by Steve Howrie
And then I realised how simple this was. Show, not tell. I leant back in my chair and considered it. How many war movies, documentaries, articles, audio recordings, books and magazines had been produced about the Second World War? It must have been one of the most documented wars of all time – there really was tons of the stuff! And seeing this evidence, surely no sane person could just ignore it… could they?
“We don’t need to say a single word,” Niki continued.
“I have to say, Nik, it’s a brilliant idea… and it keeps us in the clear. But where will they think all this stuff came from?”
“It doesn’t matter… as long as they believe it.”
*
Introducing artefacts into the past from the future could have big effects on not just the past, but the present as well – and they might not be beneficial effects. But as Niki had pointed out, we could always go back in time and reverse whatever we’d done. I wasn’t totally convinced it would be that easy, but I went along with the idea anyway.
Having decided that our plan was to simply deposit documentary evidence of the Nazi expansion and World War Two at a British government office, two questions had to be addressed: one, exactly what materials to take; and two, exactly where and when we should do this. The first question was more difficult than we had imagined.
“We can’t take those!” I exclaimed when Niki brought her boxed set of Second World War DVDs into the lounge the next morning.
“Why not?” she asked.
“How will they play them?”
“On this,” she answered, lifting up a DVD player. I couldn’t believe she was serious.
“What – take that back to 1935?”
“You’re so quick Joe.”
“But… but… we can’t!”
“Why not?”
I explained that we could advance the development of digital technology by sixty years by taking the player, but she wasn’t put off.
“Great!” she said, piling more DVDs on the coffee table and going back to the bedroom for more. “That’s another bonus!”
“I was really thinking of old newspapers,” I called into the bedroom.
“Oh Joe, you’re so boring!” she exclaimed bringing in her “Band of Brothers” boxed set.
“And that’s fiction!” I blurted.
In the end, she did agree to restrict the evidence to actual war footage – and to include a range of media, not just DVDs. I did point out that our DVD player wouldn’t be compatible with the televisions of 1930’s, so Niki found a portable player with a built in screen.
The whole lot, including stuff we’d downloaded from the internet (thankfully, she agreed not to take a computer), came to quite a pile and I thought we’d better take a small suitcase to carry it all.
The question of ‘when’ was decided by considerable research on the internet. In the end, we decided on 1935, sometime before October (because fascist Italy invaded Ethiopia that month – a prelude to their treaty of cooperation with Nazi Germany the following year). Niki said she’d like to go in July – simply because the weather would be nicer then. Actually, it was also because Stanley Baldwin had just taken over as Prime Minister; and having seen his photograph on the internet, she said he had a kind face. How could I argue with that?
As regards ‘where,’ we decided to go directly to 10 Downing Street and try to get as close to Baldwin as we could.
Whilst Niki was not in the least bit bothered about introducing twenty–first century technology into the 1930’s, she was very particular about our appearance. Fortunately, she had a friend who was a member of a 1940’s retro club, who put us in touch with a period costume shop where we could buy or hire clothes from the mid–1930’s – or as close as we needed. Niki chose fairly smart, business dress for both of us, providing less chance of being stopped by the Police if they looked our way.
In addition to the clothes, Niki got hold of some old British money. God knows where she got it from (or why we’d need it if we were only going to be in 1935 for a few minutes), but that’s Niki for you. She could find a Martian’s eyeball if you needed it. And then we were ready to go.
***
Sixteen
Our plan had been very simple: go to Central London, set the date to 15th July 1935, and make the jump. We would take the suitcase to 10 Downing Street – the residence of Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin at the time. We knew there would be at least one policeman outside the door – there always is – so we had to act quickly. After leaving the suitcase at the door, we would change the phone’s date back to the present and return home. Assuming that the suitcase would be opened and the contents shown to someone in the government – rather than being blown up by the army – our plan would have worked.
We found a secluded spot next to a large tree in a garden area alongside Victoria Embankment. To get there, we had to walk past a Battle of Britain Memorial, and we wondered if the memorial would still be there when we returned to our present time. We hoped not. Downing Street was just a five minute walk from the garden.
It was a very warm July day in Central London. The clothes Niki got for us were rather more than we needed for the current weather, and did not exactly fit in with what other people were wearing in town. Still, locals would probably think we were from the North of England or Scotland, and just happened to be out of step with both London fashions and the weather in the Capital.
There were two policemen outside number ten that morning. As soon as we approached with the case, the policemen stiffened. We smiled, put down the case and I pressed confirm on the phone to send us back to the present, whilst Niki held my hand. But the policemen were much quicker than I could have imagined: one grabbed Niki away from me, whilst the other held my arm. Consequently, I found myself back in the present with a London Bobby instead of Niki!
*
The policeman who was holding Niki’s arm tried to take the case from her with his free hand.
“You’ve got to give this to the Prime Minister!” Niki shrieked.
At that moment, Stanley Baldwin emerged from the door of number ten with a colleague, whom we later learned was Malcolm MacDonald, the then Colonial Secretary.
“What’s going on here Malcolm?” Baldwin asked.
“I’ve no idea… Constable what’s this all about?”
“Dunno sir… just found this Chinese woman here with this case. We’ll take her down to the station.”
“Look in the case… it’s important!” Niki shouted to Baldwin as the officer dragged her away. Baldwin looked on, very puzzled and a little concerned.
“Better let the Met deal with it,” said MacDonald, “we’ll be late for our meeting.” Baldwin reluctantly followed his colleague into a black limousine, which sped off quickly. Meanwhile, Niki was detained by the officer, whilst waiting for back–up. She was soon being transported in a Police van to the nearby New Scotland Yard – with the case in tow.
*
As previously arranged with Niki, I had jumped back to the year 1700. This was to ensure we arrived outside 10 Downing Street before it was used for any sort of governmental purposes (it was just an ordinary house then). In other circumstances, I really would have liked to have spent some time in that year with Niki; but now I found myself attached to Constable William Briggs, not my wife, and the important thing was to rescue her before anything serious happened. So what should I do with this policeman – a man who was suddenly totally out of his comfort zone?
“What the…?” He surveyed the scene around us. “Where the hell are we… and who are you?”
“Ah! This is going to be difficult to explain.” A couple had stopped to stare at what must have looked like a couple of very strangely–dressed people. “Very difficult to explain. Come on… I need to show you something.”
I almost dragged the policeman across Whitehall and along Richmond Terrace towards Victoria Embankment.
“Where are we?” he asked, almost pleadingly.
&n
bsp; “It’s London, mate… but not as you know it. Here take a look – you must recognise this.” We stopped at the Thames… though it wasn’t the same river scene that I knew and loved. In the distance, we could see St. Paul’s Cathedral – easily the largest building on the skyline, though it looked like work–in–progress rather than the finished article. There was little doubt that this was London – but it was like looking at a very old photograph or movie.
“I’ll be…” Bill Briggs looked on in wonder. He was dumbstruck by the scene in front of us, and I could see him struggling to understand what exactly had just happened.
“You’re going to find this very difficult to accept… but the fact is, we’ve travelled back in time. The year is seventeen hundred.” He looked at me, scanning my expression – his police lie–detector training kicking into action.
“Well,” he said, turning his gaze back to the river, “I know this ain’t nineteen thirty–five, I can tell you that much. They said nuffin’ about time–travel when I signed up for the force. Seventeen hundred you say?” I nodded. Bill shook his head slowly. “Well blow me down with a feather.”
“I’d like to show you more, but I’ve got to get Niki back…”
“Niki?”
“The Chinese girl – she’s my wife.”
Then after a pause I said, “There’s going to be a war – a big, terrible war.”
He looked at me closely again, gauging my honesty.
“Well it better not be like last time. They said that was the war to end all wars. My dad was killed at Gallipoli – terrible it was. When we ‘eard about the evacuation, we all thought he would be home for Christmas, but he never came. We never even knew how he died exactly. Mother never got over it.”
“It’s going to be even worse than that, Bill; it’ll be the deadliest military conflict in human history. Sixty million people worldwide are going to die.”
Bill was quiet for a minute, collecting his thoughts.
“Who are you – and how do you know this? Why should I believe a single word you’ve said? I don’t really know what this is,” he waved his arms across the Thames. “You could just be playing with my mind… some sort of mesmerism.”
“My name’s Joe Cooper and I’m from the year 2015. I’d like to show you my World – but right now, I’ve got to find my wife. In the suitcase, we brought evidence of World War Two – everything that happened. All the atrocities, the blunders. How the Americans didn’t join the Allies until later. It was the most documented war of all time. To us, it’s our past, it’s history – and I know this all sounds crazy, but we’ve got a chance to stop it. Stop the war, stop the suffering, and stop the deaths…”
“And stop Hitler?” Bill asked.
“Yes.”
“I knew it! I’ve never trusted the Germans since the last war… and that man…”
“On 16th March, Germany announced rearmament in violation of the Versailles Treaty – and on April 28th Hitler ordered twelve submarines – again in defiance of the treaty. This is fact, in your time – read your newspapers.”
“Why didn’t we see it coming? Why don’t we ever learn?”
Bill looked away, then back into my eyes. “What can I do?”
“You can tell the authorities that this is going to happen – whoever you can get to. You’ve travelled back in time and seen the beginning of the 18th Century with your own eyes. It’s no trick, this is real. Touch that tree, breathe in the air. But if you still think this is some sort of ‘mesmerism trick’ I’ve played on you, you can’t ignore the fact that Hitler and the Nazi’s are a great threat to the stability of the Europe… and war is coming.”
We were suddenly aware of people looking at us again. A small crowd had gathered, staring at the strangely dressed people who were talking in unusual tones by the river.
“We need to go now – come on.” I grabbed his arm and we walked briskly along the river until we reached a quiet spot. I changed the date on my phone back to 5th July 1935. “Take a deep breath.” I pushed the button, and in a flash we were back to Bill’s time period. “Where will they have taken Niki?” I asked him.
“Follow me,” he instructed, and we headed off towards Scotland Yard, 4 Whitehall Place. As we walked, Bill told me he was an avid follower of Science Fiction and had read ‘The Time Machine’ by HG Wells a dozen times. So he already had the belief that such a thing would one day be possible – he just never thought it would happen on his particular watch.
*
Whilst Bill and I were spending time in 1700, Niki had been taken away to the nearest police station, and was now seated on a wooden chair in a bare–looking room with white and brown walls in Scotland Yard, her arms handcuffed. On a table in front of her was the suitcase. A policemen and a detective faced her, then the detective spoke.
“You must know how crazy this all sounds Miss.”
“Why don’t you just open the case, and then we’ll see who’s crazy,” Niki replied.
“You know I can’t do that… bomb disposal needs to look at it first. It’s procedure. And who knows what Chinese magic you’ve got in there?”
Niki was exasperated. “Then just let me go – I’ve not committed any crime!”
“Intent to commit a crime is also a crime, Miss.”
“Okay, then just do nothing – let World War Two take its course. There were only… let me see… sixty million people killed between 1939 and 1945 – not to mention those who suffered in the Holocaust…”
“The holo what?”
Niki sat back and sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I hope you can sleep at night in ten years’ time.”
The detective looked at her quizzically. Then there was a knock at the door. “Come.” A neatly dressed policewoman with tied back black hair entered. “Yes – what is it Sally?” he was clearly irritated. The policewoman whispered into his ear.
The Detective nodded and turned to the other policeman. “Don’t let her go anywhere!”
*
I was waiting with Bill when the detective and policewoman came out of a nearby room. By the look of the detective, it was not going to be easy to convince him that we weren’t raving nutcases – but we did have Bill on our side now. He had put me in handcuffs to show his boss he was in control (though he’d given me the key as a gesture of trust). The detective ushered Bill through a door off the main corridor by the detective (for debriefing, presumably), whilst I was taken into the same room as Niki. It was a relief to see her alive and well – even though I couldn’t touch her.
“Joe!”
“Yep, it’s me.”
“You shouldn’t have come back – I can handle this…”
“Zhongwen,” I said, thinking it was better to speak in a language they are very unlikely to understand, and my Chinese was good enough to explain what had happened that morning.
“You shou ji ma?” she asked.
I quickly confirmed that I did have my mobile, and told her about going to the year 1700 with Bill, and how I had convinced him that war with Germany was going to happen, even though he would never really understand how we had been able to travel back and forward in time. That was all I had time to say before the officer stopped us talking. From the next room, we could hear shouting. After a while, it went quiet, and a few minutes later, Bill entered with the Detective.
“Right you two. Constable Briggs has put his job on the line for you both. I don’t know what happened when he was away with Mr Cooper here, but he’d convinced me to give you the benefit of doubt and pass on your case to someone in the government. I really should get the army boys to just blow up that case; but I’ve worked with Bill for a long time now, and I trust him. So we’ve got to keep you here until they’ve had a look inside your case, all right?” We both nodded. “Right then. Constable Briggs will get you some food and drink – you must be hungry.”
*
We must have spent three hours waiting in the police station for something to happen. We had to st
ay in handcuffs, and were continually being watched, so there was no way I could use the key Bill had given me to free myself and get my phone. Which meant that all we could do was sit and wait it out.
Suddenly, the door opened and Detective Thompson was back with another man. He was dressed in a grey suit, blue striped school tie, and a serious but warm look. He reminded me of an actor from old war movies my dad used to watch.
“Are those really necessary?” the man in the suit asked, pointing towards our handcuffs. The constable looked at the detective, who nodded his agreement, and we were released from the cuffs.
We were then taken to a black car parked outside the Police station by the man in the suit, who sat in the front next to a police driver. After a couple of minutes, the man turned and smiled at us.
“My name is Johnson,” he said. “I work for the Government. The police brought your suitcase to us, and we’ve been looking at your, er, ‘documents’. I work with Mr Eden.”
“Anthony Eden?” I asked.
“Yes. You will appreciate that these, er, documents have taken us rather aback. Normally, we would verify the authenticity of such information before going any further with something like this. Well, actually, there’s never been anything like this. Anyway, Mr Eden has a lot of questions, as you can imagine.”
Traffic in 1935 paled into insignificance compared with our own time period. Cars were slower, of course, and there were horse driven vehicles on the roads intermingled with the cars and buses. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the Home Office buildings. Both Niki and I were so interested in meeting Anthony Eden and answering his questions that we totally forgot our original idea; we had intended to merely leave the information with the government – and avoid any difficult questions regarding their source. But now we were actually looking forward to talking about World War Two. This was surely a lot better than just leaving the documents and hoping they would be examined. So I didn’t even think about using the phone to get us out of there.
Anthony Eden was almost exactly how I imagined him, having read so much about the British government and the Second World War whilst we collected all the relevant documentary evidence we could find. He had been educated at Eton and Oxford, and his accent and manner was what you would expect after such an education. He was certainly gregarious and welcoming, quite different from our reception at the police station.
