The Danger of Life

by Ken Lussey

  ‘If you want my total honesty, sir, I’ve barely met the man, and certainly don’t know him well enough to have formed a considered opinion about him.’

  Sir Peter said, ‘I sense there’s a “but” coming?’

  ‘Instinctively, sir, I simply don’t trust him. I’ve got some good people at Craigiehall, but he just doesn’t seem to fit in. He comes over as one of those people who do things a certain way because that’s the way they’ve always done them. And I suspect that others aren’t wholly confident of him. On my first day in Edinburgh I walked into an office to hear one of the senior non-commissioned officers referring to “Major Mother Hen”. It was a small thing, but it really chimed with my own feelings.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Sir Peter. ‘We will find another post, preferably somewhere far away from Edinburgh, for Major Miller. Have you any thoughts on who should replace him?’

  ‘Both of my team leaders are good, sir, but of the two I’d recommend Lieutenant Dixon for the post.’

  Commodore Cunningham said, ‘We can action that immediately. That gives you two vacancies at team leader level.’

  ‘Subject to your approval, sir, I’d like to replace Captain Bell with an officer I met in Mallaig, a Lieutenant Darlington. I was impressed by him. And his commanding officer at the Commando Basic Training Centre, though he would be sorry to lose him, recommends him highly. I sounded out Lieutenant Darlington yesterday, and I know he would be happy to accept the post and the promotion.’

  ‘I’m happy with that,’ said Commodore Cunningham. ‘And I’ll get a list of suggestions for a suitable naval officer to replace Lieutenant Dixon as team leader drawn up for you to look at.’

  Sir Peter took the lead again. ‘Some of the comments you made just now bring us to a related issue, Group Captain. You were of course right in suggesting that the way ahead is to avoid competition or conflict with other agencies and to work with them. As I said, it was our belief that you would have an open mind that was one of the factors in our offering you the appointment.

  ‘Against that background I was rather disturbed to hear that you had opposed having an MI5 officer attached to your investigation at Achnacarry. Do you have anything to say about that?’

  ‘I can only say that it wasn’t my finest moment, sir, and I’ve learned from it and will do better in future. I could say that I was shaken by the loss of Captain Bell, and that the MI5 move seemed to revolve around a piece of gossip about Germans in training that turned out to be irrelevant. It’s perhaps an indication of how I was feeling that I didn’t even respond well to Commodore Cunningham’s offer to become personally involved, which I also apologise for. My true views are much more those I gave expression to in talking about the operation that Major Miller complained about.’

  ‘Thank you for clearing that up,’ said Sir Peter. ‘I am pleased you have, because there’s another staffing issue we need to talk about. I very much want to encourage a more open approach to working between different parts of my still very Byzantine empire. It has been suggested to me by the head of the Security Service that this could be facilitated by seconding someone to your unit from MI5. They’d work alongside your new deputy, Lieutenant Dixon, or Lieutenant Commander Dixon as he will now become, and their role would be to help you with the unit’s investigative work, and to make sure that liaison with MI5 works smoothly.

  ‘Before you say anything, I recognise that this may appear from your perspective to be a predatory or threatening suggestion. There is a history of distrust between the different military intelligence sections, often with very good reason. If you agree, the commodore and I will give you our full support in ensuring that it doesn’t turn into a backdoor takeover of MI11 by a much larger and far better resourced MI5.’

  Bob looked back and forth between the two men. ‘For it to work, I’d have to be able to have complete trust in whoever came over. Do you have anyone in mind, sir?’

  ‘MI5 have suggested Madame Vera Duval,’ said Sir Peter.

  It took Bob a split second to recognise the name. ‘Sorry for being slow on the uptake there, sir. I know her as Monique Dubois.’ Bob paused for a moment, trying to work out how to phrase his next sentence. ‘Sir, there’s something you need to know about Vera Duval and I.’

  Sir Peter Maitland smiled. ‘You want me to know that you formed a relationship with her during that business in Caithness, and that despite your response to her involvement at Achnacarry, it’s continued more recently? Please, Bob, I know that jokes are made about “military intelligence”, but I would not have been doing my job properly if that were news to me. It’s the fact that neither of you have made any effort to conceal what’s been going on between you that suggests to me that it won’t be a problem.’

  ‘Has the idea been put to Monique, or rather, Vera?’

  ‘Yes, it has,’ said Sir Peter. ‘I believe she’s amenable to the idea of working with your team in Edinburgh if you are amenable to the idea of working with her.’

  ‘That’s settled, then,’ said Bob, deliberately committing himself before he had time for second thoughts.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Commodore Cunningham. ‘There’s one more thing I’d like to cover, Bob. How did your discussion with Colonel Irakli Kuznetsov go? One of the things touched on by Major Miller in his complaint was what he referred to as your tendency to jump into an aeroplane at the slightest provocation and forget that you are an intelligence officer rather than a pilot.’

  Bob grinned. ‘There was perhaps an element of truth in that when I flew from Leuchars in a Mosquito with the officer commanding 540 Squadron, sir. Though I would say in my defence that it did help me get inside the mind of the man who had tried to steal one of the aircraft. On the other hand, my flight from RAF Errol with Colonel Kuznetsov in one of his Albemarles had motives I think you’ll find much more acceptable.’

  Bob took a sip of his tea before continuing. ‘Just before we saw what I correctly suspected at the time was a Luftwaffe aircraft en route to photograph the Rolls-Royce factory at Hillington, Kuznetsov had, apparently jokingly, told me that I’d be awarded the Order of the Red Banner if I defected to the Soviets with a Mosquito. It seemed to me that it might be some sort of gambit on his part. I took that flight with him to cement a friendship and by the time we landed we were on “Bob” and “Irakli” terms.

  ‘It was during the flight, and beyond the hearing of any of his men, that Kuznetsov confirmed what I’ve put in my report. The plan was for Sergeant Winograd to fly the Mosquito from Leuchars to RAF Errol, only a dozen or so miles away. There the Soviets would check that it was fully fuelled up, something they couldn’t otherwise guarantee. It would have been first thing in the morning and the idea was to get that done very quickly, before anyone on the base had a chance to interfere. Winograd would be replaced by two highly experienced and fully kitted-out Soviet aircrew who were posing as trainees with the unit, and they would fly the aircraft to Murmansk. Winograd would then be smuggled off the base and taken back to his unit, with no-one any the wiser.’

  ‘That does help tie up the loose ends nicely,’ said Commodore Cunningham.

  ‘The flight had another outcome, sir. It turned out that Kuznetsov had indeed mentioned defection as a gambit. When I floated the idea of his passing any useful information that came his way to me on a personal basis, in exchange for a promise of a new identity and UK residence when he needed it at some point in the future, he jumped at it. He was very much on the periphery of the operation being run by Sergei Avdonin, but if it is restarted in another guise, then having Colonel Kuznetsov on board could help keep us ahead of the game.’

  ‘Your report just arrived this morning, Bob, and I’ve only had a chance for a quick first read,’ said Commodore Cunningham. ‘I didn’t notice you mentioning that part of your discussion with him.’

  ‘No, sir, it seemed best not to put that in writing.’

  Si
r Peter laughed. ‘I can see you’ll go far in this game, Bob.’

  Author’s Note

  This publication is a work of fiction and should be read as such. Except as noted below, all characters are fictional and any resemblances to real people, either living or dead, are purely coincidental.

  Likewise, the events that are described in this publication are the products of the author’s imagination.

  Let’s start with the characters. Some of those who appear between the pages of this publication occupy posts that existed at the time, but nonetheless they are all fictional. This is significant because the military units mentioned were usually doing what I describe them as doing at the time the action takes place. Minor characters are also entirely invented. Some characters could be associated with real people because of their roles, such as the harbourmaster at Mallaig and the officers commanding the Commando Basic Training Centre, the SOE at Arisaig House, the Army’s Scottish Command, RAF Leuchars, 540 Squadron, and No. 305 Ferry Training Unit. Again, the characters who play those roles in this publication are not based on their real-life counterparts and are fictional.

  Group Captain Robert Sutherland is also an invented character, though he has a career in the Royal Air Force that will be recognised by anyone familiar with the life and achievements of Squadron Leader Archibald McKellar, DSO, DFC and Bar. Bob Sutherland’s family background and pre-war employment were very different to Archibald McKellar’s, but the two share an eminent list of achievements during the Battle of Britain. Squadron Leader McKellar was tragically killed when he was shot down on the 1st of November 1940, whereas the fictional Group Captain Sutherland was only wounded when he was shot down on the same day, allowing him to play a leading role in this publication and its predecessor.

  And Madame Monique Dubois or Madame Vera Duval? She is a fictional alias for a real woman. The real Vera Ericksen, or Vera Schalburg, or take your pick from any number of other aliases, had a story that was both complex and very dark. She disappeared during the war after the two German spies she landed with at Port Gordon on the Moray Firth were tried and executed by the British. To hear her full story, you will need to read my first novel, Eyes Turned Skywards.

  Geoffrey Smith, or Stan Harrison, is a fictional character whose story is largely based on the pre-war and wartime exploits of a man called Eddie Chapman. While the fictional Stan Harrison parachuted into Scotland to sabotage the Rolls-Royce engine factor at Hillington, the real Eddie Chapman parachuted into England to sabotage the de Havilland factory at Hatfield, where Mosquito aircraft were made. The details of the deception and illusion described in this publication closely parallel real events: they are simply moved several hundred miles north.

  Military Intelligence, Section 11, or MI11, was a real organisation which had a responsibility for military security. Its organisation and other aspects of its operations described in this publication are entirely fictional.

  The Commando Basic Training Centre was located at Achnacarry Castle from early 1942, and this story draws as closely as possible on the training that took place there. Achnacarry Castle returned to its role as the ancestral home of Clan Cameron after the war (despite an accidental fire that took place in 1943) and remains a private residence. It is possible to stay in nearby steadings let out by the estate. The Clan Cameron Museum, also nearby, has information about the commandos at Achnacarry and publishes a ‘Commando Trail’ leaflet for anyone wanting to know more about what took place at Achnacarry and visit some of the locations. The commandos in Lochaber are also remembered in exhibitions at the Spean Bridge Hotel in Spean Bridge and at the West Highland Museum in Fort William. They are most poignantly commemorated at the Commando Memorial, a 5.2m high statue of three commandos standing on a plinth that was erected beside the road from Spean Bridge to Achnacarry in 1952.

  The organisation of the Special Operations Executive training schools run from Arisaig House was much as described here. At the time of writing Arisaig House operates as a country house hotel, while the other properties used by the SOE in the area returned to roles as private homes after the war.

  Craigiehall was taken over by the army during the war, and later became the main army headquarters in Scotland. It remains an army base at the time of writing. Edinburgh Castle continues to have a military role but has also become one of Scotland’s most popular visitor attractions.

  The Rolls-Royce factory at Hillington was established just before the war as a ‘shadow factory’ to produce Merlin engines. Parts of it remain standing and its scale is astounding: though much of it has been cleared or modified since the war. White Cart Lodge is fictional.

  RAF Renfrew existed. Its main runway now lies under the line of the M8 motorway immediately to the south of Renfrew itself (and immediately to the north of the remains of the Rolls-Royce factory at Hillington). Nearby RAF Abbotsinch became Glasgow Airport after the war. RAF Turnhouse has since become Edinburgh Airport. Many of its domestic buildings still stood as recently as 2007, according to online photographs. Most have since been demolished. RAF Leuchars, after nearly a century of service to the RAF, was transferred to the army in 2015. 540 Squadron operated from Leuchars in October 1942, as described in this publication. The Polish Army did have a camp in Tents Muir, as the 1945 one-inch Ordnance Survey map calls the area that has since universally become known as Tentsmuir. Slight traces of the camp can still be found in the forest, if you look in the right places.

  The Royal Naval Air Station at Machrihanish later became RAF Machrihanish, and though the military have now departed, it still operates commercial flights.

  RAF Errol was a real place and continues to have some aviation connections while also serving as an industrial estate. No. 305 Ferry Training Unit actually existed, and was established at RAF Errol for the rather inexplicable purposes described in this story.

  The North British Hotel in Edinburgh became the Balmoral Hotel some decades ago. Its clock continues to be set three minutes fast.

  The legend of Jacobite gold at Loch Arkaig is much as told in this publication. The Archibald Cameron who appears in this book is fictional. However, his ancestor, Archibald Cameron of Locheil, was a real historical figure and his efforts to retrieve the Jacobite gold were also real. The detailed account he produced for Charles Edward Stuart of what became of the gold survives in the Clan Cameron archives, and is as described in this book.

  The story I have woven around the gold is entirely fictional and the treasure, if it still exists, has never been found. I should apologise to my grandson Alistair for adding our names to the long list of those who over the centuries have failed to find the gold when we visited Loch Arkaig at the time this story was beginning to take form and substance. I at least came away with some compelling locations.

  The price of $34 per ounce quoted for gold in 1942 may seem very low, but accurately reflects the situation at the time. The treasure would be worth considerably more today, with the price of gold (in February 2019) standing at over $1300 per ounce and an exchange rate of around $1.3 to £1 instead of the $4.03 to £1 that was fixed from 1940 to the end of the war and beyond.

  To conclude, in my view it is the duty of a fiction writer to create a world that feels right to his or her readers. When the world in question is one that is as far removed in so many ways, some predictable and others not, as 1942 is from today, then it is inevitable that false assumptions will be made, and facts will be misunderstood. If you find factual errors within this publication I apologise and can only hope that they have not got in the way of your enjoyment of the story.

  I would like to express my thanks to Astie Cameron for background information about the weir on the River Arkaig at Achnacarry. The responsibility for the way the information he provided has been used is mine alone.

  Remember, as I said at the start of this note, that this publication is a work of fiction.

  The Danger of Life

  Ken Lusseyr />
  © Ken Lussey 2019

  The author asserts the moral right to be identified

  as the author of the work in accordance with the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  This is a work of fiction except as set out in the author’s note.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission

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  Published by Fledgling Press, 2019

  Cover Design: Graeme Clarke

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  Print ISBN 9781912280223

  eBook ISBN 9781912280230

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