I WAS MONTY’S DOUBLE

by M. E. CLIFTON JAMES

  After congratulating me on my work he told me about the plans which had been made to get me away unobserved. On the following afternoon an American car would be outside the villa to take me to the Maison Blanche airport. Here I was to board an American transport plane for Cairo. My papers signed by himself would be made out for Lieutenant M. E. James, of the Pay Corps, on Special Pay Duties. Someone would meet me in Cairo and tell me what to do next. Until I was called for I was to lie as low as a badger. On no account was I to show my face outside.

  “You look pretty fagged,” was his last remark. “Try to relax, and if there’s anything you want, tell Sergeant Smith, who’s looking after you.”

  Heywood was even more sympathetic. “Cheer up, Jimmy, we’re all proud of you. I’ll be seeing you later.”

  Dear old Heywood, he was the only one of them all who seemed able to put himself in my place.

  Formerly the villa had belonged to two French ladies who had left so suddenly that they had not been able to take many of their possessions with them. They had even left a grey and green parrot in the sitting-room and the Sergeant had evidently spent a good deal of his spare time teaching them the beauties of the English tongue. By way of cheering me up he took me along and introduced me to them.

  “Now then you two bastards,” he began, “let’s hear something from you.”

  The two parrots at once replied with language of the Old Kent Road on a Saturday night, interspersing the swear words with odd bits of lady-like French.

  “Talk English, you silly bitches,” the Sergeant shouted, “I don’t want any parleyvoos from you!”

  The grey parrot seemed friendly enough and allowed me to scratch her head, but the green one, who was called Lizzie, had a look in her eye which I didn’t fancy, and when I tried to scratch her she made a vicious peck at my finger.

  This bird, the Sergeant told me, was amazingly quick at picking up words, but parrot-like she would usually forget them just as quickly unless they were repeated. Looking back on it later, I realized that this was a clear warning to a man in my ticklish position. Had I known what might happen I would never have come near those wretched birds.

  But that evening, wandering aimlessly about the villa unable to read or to rest, some wicked sprite tempted me to visit the parrots again and try to get them to talk. I tried my hardest in English, but not a word could I get out of them. At last in exasperation I swore at them, whereupon Lizzie replied with a string of the foulest oaths I have ever heard. If words mean anything to a parrot she had evidently taken a strong dislike to me.

  It is absurd to take offence at a parrot. I can only plead that my nerves were more than a little on edge.

  “Don’t you talk to me like that,” I snapped. ““I’m Monty.”

  Lizzie gave a hideous squawk.

  “Monty,” I hissed, bending down close to the cage. “Do you hear? Monty!”

  The bird stood motionless with her eyes glittering. Without warning she let out a piercing whistle which increased the throbbing in my head. I made for the door.

  Just as I was going out Lizzie screamed again, and then that miserable bird began to shriek “Monty!”

  I stood there in tenor. Perhaps I was in a mood to exaggerate the dangers. All the same, if Sergeant Smith were to hear what the parrot was shrieking he could hardly fail to wonder what was the cause of it. And the disturbing fact remained that even without my General’s uniform I still looked very much like Monty.

  My fears became almost panic when the Sergeant came along the passage. I managed to head him off, and then I went back to the aviary and considered what I should do.

  For months I had succeeded in keeping my mouth shut to friends and acquaintances—even to my own wife. And now I had opened it—to a parrot! It only remained for Brigadier Clarke to come along and hear my indiscretion broadcast from a bird-cage to land me in the guard-room.

  Lizzie looked at me evilly as if she perfectly understood all this.

  I’ll try kindness first, I thought. Contorting my face into a winning smile I cooed, “Hullo, Polly, pretty Poll, good old Lizzie.”

  This and many other endearing expressions were greeted in silence, and with some relief I remembered having heard the Sergeant say that Lizzie was as quick to forget words as to plck them up. But just when I was beginning to feel somewhat reassured there came the piercing whistle and “Monty! Monty! Monty!” in a shattering crescendo.

  I contemplated violence, but my tormentor seemed to see the futility of this even more quickly than I did, for she jumped up and down on her perch as if to express derision.

  I considered opening the cage and pushing Lizzie out of the window, but on second thoughts I didn’t relish the prospect of her squawking “Monty!” in the streets of Algiers and then being captured in a blaze of publicity. So at last I returned to my own room and dozed off.

  After what seemed only a few minutes I was awakened by the Sergeant with a cup of tea.

  From the next room there came a piercing whistle and then: “Monty! Monty!” I looked at the Sergeant and he looked at me.

  “That little bitch is pretty quick in the uptake,” he remarked casually.

  I felt my throat going dry as I tried to think of something to say.

  “This Monty how-d’y-do is supposed to be hush-hush The mess orderly and I were talking about it yesterday and I suppose Liz must’ve heard us.”

  I gaped at him.

  “Trust her to contravene the Official Secrets Act.”

  He picked up my empty cup, gave me a curious look and went out. To this day I don’t know if he guessed my secret and was saying all this to reassure me.

  After an almost sleepless night I had some breakfast, and then wondered how on earth I could pass the next six hours. Upstairs there was a room with a small balcony outside it. I went and sat in the sun, admiring the lovely view of the town and harbour. But at eleven o’clock the Sergeant showed in Brigadier Clarke. I thought he was looking rather stern.

  As soon as the Sergeant had left the room he said sharply, “Did I see you up on that balcony just now?”

  “Yes, sir. I sat out there to get some air.”

  “I told you on no account to show yourself outside this villa. Don’t do it again. All the work you have done might be ruined if someone spotted you.”

  The reason for these strict precautions was that it was an open secret that mysterious visitors stayed at the villa. No doubt enemy agents kept an eye on it, and if one of them happened to see someone who resembled Monty and yet was not Monty, the cat would probably be out of the bag.

  He gave me my papers and an Army pass to travel by air to Cairo. I suppose Cairo was chosen as being the one town which was big enough to swallow me up without a trace. Once again I was given no hint as to what would happen to me when I got there or who would meet me. But by this time I had grown quite accustomed to being shot into the unknown like a refugee.

  While we were talking, Heywood came in to bid me a warm and friendly good-bye. I felt horribly alone when he had gone and I began to see how much I had come to rely on him now that he was no longer to be at my side.

  At three o’clock a big, closed American car stood outside, and coming down to the hall I saw a strange Army Major as heavily armed as a character in a thriller.

  “Lieutenant James?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  In a low voice he said: “I’ll open the car door. Dash straight into it. Keep your head down and blow your nose. Is that clear?”

  A few moments later I grabbed my hold-all and literally dived into the car. The door slammed, the Major got in beside the driver, and we were off.

  Chapter

  XVI D-DAY SETS ME FREE

  The Major bade me good-bye as I got out of the car and walked to the huge reception office on the aerodrome. I was quite accustomed to the Maison Blanche by this time. Everything was 100 per cent American. American personnel, American aircraft, loud-speakers booming in broad American accents.
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  All through my adventures complete strangers were constantly looming up and delivering strange letters or verbal messages. I was not at all surprised when a young Captain came up to me and presented me with a sealed envelope which he said he had been told to deliver to me. Opening it, I discovered £E20 provided by the thoughtful Brigadier.

  After a quarter of an hour the loud-speakers began booming, “Passengers for Zero-one-Zero, take your places in Bay Six.”

  This referred to me. In Bay 6 I found a big American transport plane in which I managed to get a seat at the back. Ten minutes later the engines roared and we were off on our journey to Cairo. Since we had eight hours before us I had plenty of time to study my fellow passengers.

  The first thing that struck me was the strange dress worn by some of the American Air Force men. It was so peculiar that I thought they must be civilians until I heard them talking in Service jargon. They wore nondescript trousers and zip-fastener wind-cheaters, and in their pockets they carried flat caps. All the luggage that one of them seemed to possess was a pair of pliers stuck in his belt. Two others sat near me and for eight hours neither of them spoke a word. They just sat there like ruminative cows, stolidly chewing gum.

  For the rest there was a collection of Australian, British, French and American Servicemen with one or two civilians. An Aussie soldier began to give us a running commentary on the North African battlefields beneath us. He had been right through the campaign and his vivid narrative helped to take my mind off my own problems.

  How I had looked forward to the moment when the Impersonation was over and I could sit back and relax, and how different it was from what I had imagined! If the enemy were really clever, I might be under observation even now, and certainly when I landed at Cairo there would be enemy agents waiting for me. Only those who have carried international secrets know how heavily they can weigh a man down. How much longer should I have to bear the burden of secrecy?

  At 10.45 p.m. we were told to fasten our safety belts and in a short time we landed on the Cairo aerodrome. Crowds of people of many nationalities pressed round me.

  After handing in my papers at the Control Building I looked round for someone who might be there to meet me, but I saw no one at all. I found a seat tucked away in a corner and sat there wondering what on earth I should do if nobody came. I knew absolutely nothing of Cairo and wherever I went I should be asked for my pass and my other papers. All I had with me was a letter saying that I was on Special Pay Duties. If I were questioned about these mysterious duties what could I say? Any story I concocted would at once be checked up and proved to be false.

  As time went by I grew more and more anxious. The reception office was beginning to empty now and two military policemen eyed me with obvious suspicion. If no one turned up in the next quarter of an hour, I said to myself, I would ask the way to the nearest Y.M.C.A. and try to get a bed there.

  I was just getting up to do this when a tall, handsome Major of the Guards came quickly up to me with his hand out.

  “Hullo, are you James?” he asked. “I’m awfully sorry I’m late, but we didn’t get the message from Algiers about your coming until an hour ago. Here, give me your hold-all, I expect you’re feeling pretty well fagged out. The car’s outside and I’ve got a nice dinner waiting for you.”

  As we walked out of the building we must have appeared a strange couple: a weary-looking Lieutenant of the Pay Corps with a Major of the Guards carrying his hold-all like a batman. I thought of the cartoon about our democratized Army showing a General lying under a car which has broken down and his driver smoking unconcernedly at the wheeL

  Our car moved off and the Major said: “I’d better introduce myself. I’m Terence Kenyon.”

  “It’s very kind of you to look after me like this, sir,” I began, but he interrupted: “Forget the ‘sir’. “While you’re in Cairo you’re going to stay with me as my guest. I’m Terence to you, and I’ll call you Jimmy. How’s that?”

  He went on to tell me that he worked in an Army office in Cairo and that his job was to welcome anyone who had been on a special job.

  “I have no idea what you’ve been doing and I don’t want to know,” he told me. “Our instructions from General Wilson’s headquarters are that you’ve done a good job of work and that you’re to lie low in Cairo, have a good rest and return home in a few weeks’ time.”

  This relieved me considerably because I had been rather nervous of having to explain myself with some faked story. Terence was an excellent host. He chattered away about life in Cairo, told me funny stories, and in a very short time, as it seemed, I was sitting in an armchair in his comfortable flat.

  My stay in Cairo was as pleasant as he could make fit, but after the first day or two I longed for home. The heat, the squalid poverty of the fellaheen, the flies which crawled in swarms over the sticky faces of small boys and girls, the sickness and inertia—all combined to make an unpleasant impression.

  Thieving was widespread. Terence told me of an officer who lost literally everything he possessed. This vice even spread to domestic pets. Some weeks back Terence’s bull-terrier bitch had had a litter of puppies. A pair of apes belonging to the man next door stole the litter and climbed a tree, each ape with an armful of pups!

  One night I woke up with a terrible toothache. Next morning it was no better. As I was very run down and unaccustomed to semi-tropical heat I suppose there was reason for it. When I told Terence about it he sent me to an Army dentist, but on the way there I suddenly remembered my rather alarming experience with the dentist in Leicester. Evidently my tongue was unreliable under gas, and now was hardly the time to take any risks with it. So I turned back home again. But next day the toothache was worse, and at length I was driven into visiting the dentist, an overworked, elderly man who told me that I should have an official authorization which I hadn’t got. He also told me that I had an abscess and that he couldn’t give me a local anaesthetic.

  I suppose if I had been cast in the heroic mould I would have gone away again and endured the pain, but as it was I agreed to return later in the day. Arriving early I read the journals in the waiting-room, trying hard to keep my mind off the subject of the Impersonation.

  Twenty minutes later the tooth was out. I recovered consciousness to find the dentist and the doctor regarding me with very curious expressions.

  “Did I say anything when I was under?” I blurted out. .

  “You certainly did,” the doctor replied with a sardonic grin. “In fact you began to give us quite a lecture.”

  “What on?”

  “How to improve our busts in a six weeks’ course of treatment.”

  Since there was a large Pay depot in Cairo I was almost certain to know some of the personnel. I avoided public places as far as I could and I spent much of my time in gardens on the banks of the Nile. But one day lunching at the Ghezirah Club the thing happened which I had tried so hard to avoid. We had just ordered coffee when a voice exclaimed, “Hey, James, fancy seeing you here!”

  I quickly looked the other way and tried to hide my face; but it was no good. I knew that voice only too welL It belonged to an officer whom I had come to know in the Pay Office at Leicester, one of those camp followers of Thespis who are always talking about theatrical people they have never met and using stage expressions in the wrong way. Even in Leicester I had tried to avoid him, but here in Cairo be was doubly unwelcome. He came over to our table with a broad, confident grin.

  “Well, well, who would expect to see the great Clifton here,” he began in his brassy voice. “What on earth are you doing in the Gorgeous East?”

  “Oh, this and that,” I replied as distantly as I could. But he was not to be put off.

  “What’s the news from dear old London? How are all the shows doing, eh?”

  “You must excuse me,” I replied. “I had a tooth out yesterday and I find it very painful to talk.”

  My unwelcome acquaintance tried to take this as a joke, but Terence c
oming to my rescue looked exceedingly grave and told him that the dentist had broken my jaw in extracting a molar with very long roots. Even then we had great difficulty in getting rid of him.

  I made a resolution then and there never to go to the club again, but the trouble was that wherever I went I might run into people who had known me in England. Leicester was one of the biggest Pay Corps depots in the Kingdom and thousands of men passed through it before being posted abroad. Not only this, since I had disappeared suddenly with no explanation to anyone I was bound to be an object of curiosity. In fact in Leicester I must have been a wide topic of conversation.

  One day I was waiting for Terence in Shepheard’s Hotel when the manager hurried past me and stuck a news bulletin on the notice-board. Quickly a crowd gathered round to read it. I asked someone what it was all about and he replied: “The Invasion has started. We’re well inland and giving them hell.”

  He threw his hat in the air and shouted “Whoopee!”, whereupon those round him began slapping each other on the back and cheering.

  I walked away from the board in great excitement wondering how much my own effort had helped in this initial success. It was not until after the war was over that I was told how the deception had assisted in deceiving the enemy and drawing away Rommel’s armoured divisions.

  One day about a fortnight later Terence told me that he had had instructions to get me home by air almost at once. While I was in his office watching him make out my papers, an A.T.S. officer whom I had met before came in and asked me if I would take an important package and post it for her in England. Thereupon she handed me a parcel about the size of a big square biscuit tin.

  “It has no visible address on it,” she explained. “As soon as you land, tear off the outer covering and you’ll find the address on the inside.”

  I was too well trained in secrecy by this time to ask any questions.