Beneath the Dover Sky (49 page)

“Not at all. As I’ve mentioned, his personal army—his brownshirts—number close to half a million now. The Treaty of Versailles restricts Germany to 100,000 soldiers, and Hitler’s forces could overwhelm them in a matter of hours. But that’s a moot point because the army is on his side for the most part. If he gains control of the government, the soldiers will simply fall into step with the Nazi Party. To
them Hitler is like another Blucher, the victor of Waterloo along with your Wellington.
Ran wie Blucher
—charge like Blucher, they say. They already see Herr Hitler’s aggressiveness in that light. Germans admire courage from the top.”

“Is it courage?”

“Certainly he has that along with his fanaticism. And the state of the world’s economy is slowly bringing him to power.”

“What does the Brotherhood of the Oak intend to do?”

The baron shrugged. “You’re one of us, Vilhelm. What do you intend?”

“Our navy is strong. Should Hitler take over, we could keep him blockaded on the water.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” The baron gazed at his friend through the cigar smoke. “What about the air? How is England fixed there?”

“We’re not on a war footing. The RAF is not much to speak of these days. Neither is the army. Everything is reduced and restricted. No one expects trouble. Everyone is watching the pound and the shilling. Few care about Berlin. Germany is considered a broken reed.”

“That could change overnight with one election. Hitler would tear up the Treaty of Versailles. That much is clear from his rants. He would rearm Germany. You know that.”

“I do, and a few others see it too. But we aren’t listened to.” Lord Preston tapped his teaspoon on the rim of his cup. “What do the Germans and Austrians of the Brotherhood plan to do?”

The baron kept his eyes on Lord Preston. “If the economic depression continues to play into Hitler’s hands and he gains more and more ground, our only option would be to stop him before he forms a government.”

“How would you do that?”

“Assassination.”

Lord Preston set the spoon down sharply. “Assassination? Are you mad, Gerard? It was the assassination of the Archduke that set off the Great War.”

“There would be unrest in the aftermath, certainly. The Nazis would
run amok for a few days. Blood would be spilled. But it would be limited and over quickly. Ultimately the Nazis would be headless and wither on the vine.” The baron turned to look at the darkness through the window. “Better a week or two of civil war than two or three years of war in Europe.”

Lord Preston stared at his friend’s back then reached for the small bottle of brandy and poured a capful into his tea. “I shall pray, Gerard. Ask for guidance and wisdom. I know we’re dealing with serious matters. I know sometimes great risks must be borne. But I’m not comfortable being an assassin. I’m not comfortable with overcoming darkness by using more darkness.”

The baron continued to gaze out the window. “The Lord has placed us in such a world where the choices available to us fall far short of heaven. The dark choices are often the only way to regain light.”

“I pray not,” replied Lord Preston.

19

August–October, 1931

London

“Right, then.” Edward paced the flat he shared with his father in London. “Now that Ramsay MacDonald has resigned, we can have a proper election and get the Conservatives back in power.”

His father sat in a chair sipping tea. “Labor is split over the budget and Ramsay has stepped down, that much is true. But the prevailing mood amongst Conservative and Liberal MPs is to get MacDonald back in the prime minister’s chair right away at the helm of a National Government.”

“What?”

“The economic crisis worldwide is simply too serious to put party before country, my boy. An election we must have, yes, but with a national coalition vying for votes against Labor, not all the parties split up into their usual bits and pieces. So when we go back to the House in a few minutes, it is Stanley Baldwin’s wish that we support MacDonald as head of a National Government.”

“What about Lloyd George and the Liberals? They hold the balance of power.”

“They do now. If the British people back a National Government in this time of crisis, which I believe they will, I doubt the Liberals shall keep that hold.”

“It’s a mess,” Edward fumed. “I look at where Germany is headed, and now we have a golden opportunity to do the same. But you’re saying we want to put that deadweight Ramsay back in the prime minister’s chair.”

“And where is Germany heading that we should be following after it?”

“A moratorium on democracy. You’re right, it is an unprecedented financial crisis and must be met with unprecedented measures. But not dead men like Ramsay leading the dead men of a National Government. No, Father, we must thrust democracy aside for the time being.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Have the election, yes. But place Baldwin back at the helm of a Tory majority. Give him sweeping powers. No more elections for ten years. Strong trade ties with Italy and Germany. High tariffs for trade with those not part of the Commonwealth or the Empire. Cut relations with the League of Nations. Build up our navy and army and air force. Make our ships the size we want them to be. Put the British laborer to work on tanks and fighter planes and battle cruisers. Our economy will be revived in half a year, and Great Britain will be back to work and happy.”

Lord Preston set down his cup. “A moratorium on democratic government Englishmen have fought and died for since the Magna Carta? How do you propose to get the support for that even if we’re facing a financial crisis?”

“We need a strong man now, Dad. We need a monarch or we won’t weather the storm. This democratic pattern of voting and revoting every few years is rubbish. We put a good man in and we keep him there until everything is sorted out.”

“What if it takes decades?”

“So be it.”

“Who put all this into your head?”

Edward smacked a fist into his hand. “It is going to work for Germany, and Germany has been in a far greater hole than we’ve been. It must work for us.”

“The elimination of democracy will work for Germany? You would replace the free vote of the people with a dictatorship?”

“The baron was adamant about this back in May, and he was right.”

Lord Preston’s face sharpened. “Baron von Isenburg promoted this line of thinking? I don’t believe it.”

“The strong man, the clearheaded man, the man with unprecedented powers wielding them wisely and ably without the nagging hindrance of opposition parties or debate or national elections is the man best able to steer his country out of economic chaos. Freedom to act decisively. That is the thing, Father. Liberty to act in order to bring this nation the very liberty it requires and deserves.”

“Whether the baron was goading you to get a reaction, I don’t know. But if you wish to have a future with the Conservative Party, you must support Mr. Baldwin’s wishes for a National Government with Ramsay MacDonald at its head and put away this rubbish about a moratorium on democracy.”

Edward went back to pacing. “We do what we need to do and win a National Government with a majority of Conservative seats. Then we oust Ramsay, replace him with Baldwin, and vote in necessary and extraordinary powers for the government that give him—and us—a free hand to do what needs to be done to put Britain back on her feet strong, free, and unrestrained.”

Lord Preston stood up and straightened his suit jacket with a strong pull from both his hands. “It’s time to return to the House and support Ramsay MacDonald’s return to the office of prime minister.”

“By all means. It’s what we do after winning the election that counts.”

Lord Preston nodded. “Indeed it is.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Ah, William. It’s a very good connection. How did you get on with your speech in Liverpool?”

“We have mutiny at Invergordon in Scotland.”

“Mutiny! Not on the
Hood
?”

“Yes, on the
Hood
and many other vessels as well. It is a black thing. I gather there were rumblings for days, but it got under way in earnest on the fifteenth of September—yesterday—and is still going today. Turn on the BBC this evening, and they will tell you what they’re permitted to broadcast about the events.”

“Why haven’t the Royal Marines on board the ships put it down?”

“The Marines have joined the mutiny.”

“Oh no!”

There was a rustling of paper at Lord Preston’s end. “There is no mention of officers joining the mutiny. Indeed, they’ve done their best to get the sailors to return to their duties.”

“Libby will be frantic down at Dover Sky.”

“I have no word on Terry.”

“I shall call her. Robbie and Shannon are with her. And Caroline.”

“Well, don’t panic her. There are no reports of violence. No shots fired. No beatings. No one hurt. No officers assaulted.”

“Of course I won’t panic her. The minute you hear anything else, please ring me.”

“I shall. I have another election rally tomorrow. How is Edward’s campaign getting on, do you know?”

“Charlotte reports he’s on top of the world and prophesying Baldwin’s return to power.”

“He’s saying that? When will the boy learn to keep his mouth shut? If Baldwin or Ramsay MacDonald get wind of it, they’ll throw him out of the party.”

“Please, William.”

“It’s true, Elizabeth. They will skin him alive.”

“All right, Dear, that’s quite enough. Go back to your speechwriting. I shall call Libby up straightaway.”

Dover Sky

Robbie tugged a white-faced Libby into the library where Kipp was adjusting the dials on the large, wooden radio set. “I’m telling you, the news is good, Lib.”

“You’re only saying that.”

“I’m not. The BBC is saying that.”

“They only tell us what the Royal Navy permits. Heaven knows what they’re holding back. They always held back casualty reports during war. Remember how they covered up the losses at Jutland?”

“It’s 1931 now, Lib, not 1916. Listen.”

The
Hood
has sailed from Invergordon as ordered. All mutinous activities appear to have ceased on board the flagship. No casualties have occurred. This is true of all the other ships as well. After two days of unrest and disobedience, we have no record of fatalities or serious injuries. All ships have followed the
Hood
out of port as ordered. All ships are away. The mutiny has ended without resort to force.

“There you have it.”

“I admit it does sound hopeful, Robbie. But I shall feel better when I get a cable from Terry. Certainly he would have gotten one away before they sailed.”

“I should think so. And I shall stay up with you until it arrives, dear girl.”

“That’s not necessary, but thank you.”

“I’m on six-month leave, remember? I have nothing better to do but to pester you until the courier arrives at the door. Kipp can’t wait up because he has an airline to run.”

Kipp smiled as he stood by the radio. “That’s the truth.”

“Shannon can’t because she has to be available for Patricia Claire when she wakes at five or six.”