Captain Ashton circled the German airfield one last time and headed toward his lines by himself.
The Inquiry
A week later Captain Ashton found himself inside not a simple farmhouse outside of Amiens, but at RAF headquarters in Paris. He waited in the corridor for when Major Bartlett came out the door of the auditorium. RAF headquarters was located inside the former medical school in downtown Paris.
The auditorium once used for medical lectures would now be the venue to decide if Captain Ashton had disobeyed orders and caused the destruction of the flight he commanded.
Major Bartlett put his uniform cap on as he stopped by Captain Ashton. He said, “I’m afraid you’re next to testify to the military board.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“All of us have people that we report to. I must tell you; the fact that you were the only one who came back looks appalling indeed. It smacks of ineffective leadership or even cowardice.”
Captain Ashton took exception at such a vile comment. In a different place and time, he would have struck Major Bartlett. But this wasn't the place or time. “I’m shocked that those words were uttered in my presence.”
Major Bartlett sighed. You were always full of yourself. I’m afraid that is now your undoing. “The matter of dogfighting far away from the target, over the front lines, instead of protecting the bombers and directing your fellow pilots, speaks to the fact that you were out for your personal glory. I must tell you the RAF high command isn’t keen on matters such as these. They’d rather see this ace designation go in the bin. Better that, than have the Kaiser taking up residence at Buckingham Palace.”
“Major, surely you don’t believe I would abandon the mission or the men. I can’t fathom that is what you’re saying. I must kindly ask that you at once rescind such statements.”
“Captain Ashton, forgive me, but you have it upside down. Seven planes and their crews lost under your command, and you demand an apology. Perhaps I should pin a medal and parade you around Big Ben for becoming an ace. Is that what you want!”
“No sir.”
“I thought not.” Major Bartlett walked a few steps stopped and said, “Captain Ashton you’re an excellent pilot, but only you can answer the question if you left the others without proper command, in your headlong pursuit to become an ace.”
“I will fly again?”
Major Bartlett narrowed his eyes, “I’m sure you will... just not for the RAF, Captain Ashton.” Captain Ashton saluted and Major Bartlett left the building.
Chartwell, Kent 1937
Winston Churchill sunk deeper into his mid morning bath. Winston chomped down on a Cuban cigar, as he read the London Times. He grunted in obvious disapproval more often than not at what he saw. As Winston quickly digested each page, he discarded it on the bathroom floor, where they stacked upon each other.
The pages piled up, and Winston's smoldering cigar became shorter. It was a race to see which would prevail. Winston had another cigar on the edge of the tub, so that question was settled. Articles about the recent German reoccupation of the Rhineland were spread across the front page of the Times.
The Rhineland was a region between Germany and France. France demanded that it be demilitarized after the end of the First World War. In essence, the Rhineland was to be a buffer between France and what they thought and knew to be a hostile Germany.
The bold move by Adolf Hitler and Nazi Germany was the first outward rejection of the Treaty of Versailles and the subsequent Locarno Treaties. It was nothing less than a slap in the face to the victors of World War I. It was also a daring and provocative gamble by Herr Hitler, who thought the Allies and their people were worn out from the Great War.
He was more than right. 73% of the over eight million men mobilized by France during the war had been killed or wounded. And that number was made all the more shocking by the fact that a million and half of the injured were permanently maimed. It was no wonder that France didn’t have the stomach or political will to fight another war.
France was tired, and Germany knew it. Germany, on the other hand, wasn’t weary; they sought retribution for the harsh terms of the Treaty of Versailles, which they saw as humiliation personified. Ever so slowly, they were rebuilding their military. The pundits and politicians on both sides of the Channel were making excuses for Hitler.
The excuses were many. “The German people had been trampled by the Treaty of Versailles, and compromises must be done to bring Europe back into balance. Who could live with such draconian mandates from the Allies? No one.”
And thus, the very war that Europe prayed to avoid had already been set in motion. No one knew it at the time. Oh, there would be more years of peace and men enjoying the holidays at home with their families. Christmas carols would be sung, and babies bounced on non-amputated legs...but that would change. Men would be sent to war, never to be seen again and children would grow up without their fathers.
Scholars in later years would beat their chests and boast that World War II was just a continuation of World War I. That kind of hindsight was useless. Perhaps the academics and scholars should have taken their rightful place in the front lines, like the uneducated class.
Winston shook his head as he reached for a bar of soap. It slipped thru his fingers and disappeared into the bottom of the tub. His hands probed under the water. Finally, the hands and the bar of soap surfaced, and he smiled. “Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.”
In the next few minutes, Winston devoured the rest of the Times. When he was done, the papers were scattered at the foot of the tub. Now he started to talk to himself. That was more than appropriate for a person who had been summarily relegated to the back-benches in the House of Commons. “My warnings don’t count for much if left to deaf ears and pacifist imbeciles. Of course, I detest war and all of its unbridled horrors. But to foolhardy play the ostrich and ignore the realities of one’s situation is akin to jumping into the fountain at Trafalgar Square in the nude.
“I for one will refrain from such practices as I do not have the physical body or lack of intellectual capacity required to perform such an endeavor.”
Winston’s wife Clementine put her head thru the door. Clementine was Winston’s partner in life. She saw Winston for what he was...a complicated man, who could be brilliant and full of seemingly clever ideas at the same time. The seemingly clever ideas had been his undoing on more than one occasion.
It was Winston Churchill as Lord of the Admiralty, who had championed the ill-fated invasion of Turkey, which culminated with a stalemate and then abandonment at Gallipoli in 1915. The debacle fairly or unfairly was placed at the feet of Winston Churchill.
The disaster threw the government into crisis. It was a foregone conclusion that Winston would be relieved of his duties as Lord of the Admiralty. Most in Winston’s situation would have retreated to their country estates to drink scotch and lick their wounds. Winston Churchill wasn’t like most people.
The government wasn’t sure what to do with Winston. So Winston abruptly resigned and rejoined his old regiment at the ancient age of 41. He went to France and the front lines. He commanded the 6th Royal Scots Fusiliers battalion of the Ninth Division. His service may not have been heroic in nature, but he was in the trenches, with the mud and filth like the common soldier.
What more could you ask of a man? It was from that predicament that Winston Churchill watched the German Air Force dominate the battlefield in the sky. After witnessing the shortcoming of the British state of affairs in France, Winston was determined if and when he returned to England, to be an advocate for the airplane.
Clementine interrupted Winston, or as she may have put it...brought him to his senses. “Winston, are you talking to yourself again?” She smiled and said dryly. “You may not want to do that in public. It might seem unbalanced to those unaccustomed to your ways.”
Winston took the cigar from his mouth. “My dear,
a conversation lacking barbs and insults boomeranging back at you, is a welcome respite. The members on the opposite side, at the House of Commons, have a keen pleasure in performing such a task. But I must inform you that their banter lacks in wit and flair, which in the end makes it ineffective and as dull as His Majesty’s Sanitation Budget.”
“Did you already have a brandy?”
The cigar went straight back into his mouth. “My dear, you know me as well as anyone.”
“Yes, I do, much to my dismay.”
Winston laughed, “It seems I’ve met my match on the battlefield of repartee.”
“Better me than those lying in wait at the House of Commons. A more wretched place, I do not know of.”
“Sad but true.” Winston moved in the tub and a bit of water splashed over the side. The discarded pages of the London Times were soaked. Clementine gave him a disapproving look. Winston looked at the black ink, seeping off the pages of the newspaper. “That makes sense.”
“Winston.”
Winston belatedly said, “You are most welcome to join me in this splendid tub. I promise to edge sideways and keep my hands to myself.”
“Please…”
“Just because a man is a gentleman, doesn’t mean he isn’t just a man pretending to be a gentleman. One must take heed to primal instincts.”
Clementine’s face turned sour. “Enough. Winston would you hurry up, your guests are here.”
“Professor Kruger and his wife have already arrived?”
“Yes, dear.”
“I should have known that would be the case with German proficiency.”
“And their son, Wolf is with them. He has grown up.”
“Wolf, a fine Teutonic name. I understand he is a most impressive lad and from what I’m told, he’s fluent in English and Polish as well as French. French will serve him well if he strolls the streets of Paris on a warm summer night and meets an alluring girl reading poetry at a cafe. One thing will lead to another; after all, it is Paris.”
Clementine rolled her eyes, “Winston.”
“Madam.”
“I know that tone. I hope you don’t have some grand adventure planned for him.”
Winston sunk deeper into the tub. “I have no idea what you may be inferring.”
“Don’t you? I seem to recall my cousin being introduced to cognac and cigars at Christmas last… in your den.”
“A rite of passage. No different than baptism under fire during the Battle of the Somme or cooing with the French girl reading poetry in the cafe. I dare say any young man would prefer the cooing.”
“He was fourteen.”
“That makes it all the most impressive. How old is Wolf?”
“Seventeen.”
“Ah, much older and already accustomed to the wicked ways of the world.”
“I’m sure. Make haste; they are waiting, and do something with the London Times.”
She closed the door. Winston stood in the tub and water splashed everywhere. “Seventeen. I fear this is not the time to be coming of age, in a world of uncertainty and gathering storm clouds. In fact, I’m certain of that.”
* * *
Winston greeted Mr. and Mrs. Kruger in the living room. Winston was neatly attired in a suit, with a gold pocket watch which was tucked away inside his jacket. Mr. and Mrs. Kruger stood up from the sofa. The Kruger’s were professionally dressed which corresponded with their place in the academic circles of Germany.
Winston took Mrs. Kruger’s hand and kissed it. “You are most welcome indeed to Chartwell. I apologize for my tardiness. If truth be told, I was in the bathtub reading the London Times and contemplating the state of affairs of the world. I must say I found the result to be not only uninspiring but rather dreadful.”
Professor Kruger nodded in agreement. “The truth has a way of being most unpleasant. I fear of what is to become of my country.”
An uneasy silence came over the room. Winston grimaced. Perhaps it is worse than I thought. Winston broke the impasse. “Now Mrs. Kruger and Herr Professor Kruger, I’m so pleased that you have survived the rigors of your trip.”
Professor Kruger shook Winston’s hand. Mrs. Kruger said, “It was pleasant… much more so after we left Germany, if only temporarily.”
Professor Kruger said, “Germany these days is not the most enlightened of places. Adolf Hitler and his ilk have seen to that. They have no appreciation for higher education or free thought. They would like nothing better than to have everyone bend to their simplistic slogans.”
Mrs. Kruger said, “Dear, this will pass. Hitler is nothing more than a fad. Germany will come to its sense. At least, I hope that is the case.”
Winston said, “And this must be Wolf.” Wolf was dressed rather smartly, just like his parents. He was somewhat tall for his age, and his wiry frame was showing the first signs of filling out. Winston noticed that Wolf not only had a rock solid chin, but the young man had a presence about him. Perhaps that was missed by the others in the room, but not by Winston. What do we have here? Indeed. “You’re a fine specimen, my boy. I’ve heard much about you.”
“Thank you, Sir Winston.”
Clementine motioned to the sofa. Mr. and Mrs. Kruger sat down. “Tea for everyone?” Professor Kruger and his wife nodded.
Winston said, “Scotch and water for myself and young Wolf.” Wolf slyly smiled. He was game.
Clementine said, “Winston.”
“My dear, a nip of scotch would round out the lad’s higher education. Especially since Wolf is to be at the helm of my two-man sailboat at tomorrow’s Regatta. It is an important task. Much is at stake. Surely this is the year the trophy from the Regatta will come home to Chartwell. I will place it on the mantle. Wolf and I will drink milk from it...or something else.” Wolf laughed and smirked.
Clementine wanted to reprimand Winston. Instead, she said, “Perhaps you may want to ask Wolf before you drown him in the River Thames. Let him be; he just arrived on these shores.”
Wolf said, “That would be great fun Sir Winston. But I haven’t navigated a sailboat, much less raced one.”
“The learning curve is steep,” said Winston. “By noon, you will be an expert.”
Professor Kruger said, “Wolf has taken to the sky in a glider. They say he is a natural pilot.”
Wolf said with an air of assurance. “My wish is to join the Luftwaffe as a fighter pilot.”
Clementine spoke sharply, “And your parents approve?”
Mrs. Kruger answered quickly and with resolve. “We certainly do not. Wolf will make a fine mathematician. That would be something that we all can be proud of.”
Wolf looked at his mother, and her heart sank. “But I want to fly. I will fly. It is my dream.”
Professor Kruger wasn’t amused, “Wolf—”
“Yes, father.”
Professor Kruger’s voice became stern and unrelenting. “Glider instructions were to be part of molding you into a whole person and not a means to an end. No different than taking piano lessons or gardening. In fact, Sir Winston is a well-known lover of plant life. Isn’t that true Winston? But that doesn’t mean his career path was to be in agriculture.”
Winston said, “But many in the House of Commons would be more than pleased to see me toiling in the fields. They’d give me a parting shovel, plated in fool's gold, to work the manure pile. They would chuckle from the deed. I would not. It would serve them right if I had a green thumb.”
Wolf said, “Politics is rough, then Sir Winston. And not fair?”
“That is true my boy. But I’d rather plant tulips than dogfight in an airplane. Especially if my machine gun jams.”
Mrs. Kruger bristled. “I didn’t raise a well educated young man, with academic potential to fly the skies as the Red Baron. He was a pilot wasn’t he?”
Wolf said, “His real name was Manfred von Richthofen.”
“I don’t care if he was Attila the Hun. I am confident that neither would have known the equation for t
he Pythagoras Theorem.”
Winston said, “Quite right Mrs. Kruger. But I don’t think the Pythagoras Theorem would have been useful when Attila was sacking the Balkans. Although in the Roman's case, their phalanx jabbed and took a step to the right. I’m sure that was calculated in detail for the Roman centurions.”
Clementine scolded Winston, “My dear, you will stay clear of private family affairs.”
“I rather doubt Attila the Hun would care that I comment on his conquest of the Slavic tribes. He probably doesn’t have a family to speak of, but there could be a squatty character with three-inch teeth and a massive chest who may appear on the international scene... forthwith. In fact, Mussolini would fit the bill.”
Wolf laughed. Clementine raised her voice, “Winston Churchill you’re impossible. No wonder you have been relegated to the back-benches for the good part of your career.”
Now she was playing into Winston’s hand. “Mrs. Churchill, it is true that my opinions of the dangers or a rearming Germany have given me a seat far away from the spotlight. Some would say that I now find myself alone in the wilderness.
“However, I would caution in seeking comfort in the arms of the masses who so readily agree on their myopic view of the future. My dear when everyone is leaning one way in a boat, it has a tendency to turn over... and I may add with somewhat dire consequences.”
Professor Kruger said, “Wolf we will speak no further on this matter. We are guests of the Churchill’s and this lovely estate.”
Winston said, “I apologize for perhaps overstepping my bounds.”
Clementine smirked, “Well taken and noted... but rather late in coming.”
Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) Page 2
