Just Ordinary Men

Chapter 24

'Nothing bad Bill.. well.. unless you count having to break in a new squadron leader as a bad thing that is..'

This time the chorus of disapproval grew heated and Ashton slapped on the bar.  He grinned at Winslow.  'Cheer up Tommy it could be worse.. I could be leaving you in command!'  He turned his head slightly and winked at Bretherton warning him not to comment.

Probert broke in.  'Don't even make jokes about that Skipper!'

Ashton laughed and looked over at Bretherton.  'Shall I tell them or do you want to?'

Bretherton extended his hand.  'Be my guest!'

A frustrated Winslow growled.  'Tell us what?  Who have we been lumbered with as our new skipper?  Do we at least know him?'

With a laugh Ashton replied.  'Oh yes.. you know him very well.. very well indeed Tommy.'

'Who?  Who is it?'

Ashton chuckled at the exasperated tone.  'You see him every day Tommy.. in the shaving mirror.'

'I thought you weren't going to make.. jokes.. like..  You're not joking are you?'

A shake of the head.  'No Tommy.  The A.O.C. made me up to Wing Commander to sweeten the grounding, and elicited my opinion as to who would be best to replace me as squadron commander.' He paused.  'Unfortunately Alf's too old so I had to say you instead!'

The whole mess erupted in laughter.  All that is except Bretherton who put on a mock affronted tone.  'Here, I say!  That's a bit rich.. coming from a man who's just been grounded due to age!'

Ashton chuckled and patted his shoulder.  'Cheer up Alf.. I'm sure they're just as short of Group Captains as they seem to be Wing Commanders.'

'True enough John.. they certainly seem to be scraping the bottom of the  barrel for those!'

Opening his mouth to retort, Ashton laughed instead.  'Touché, Wing Commander Bretherton!'  He turned to the open room.  'Alright lads.. one night only.. drinks are on me!'

His reverie was interrupted by a sharp 'Come in!' and he opened the door, stepping smartly across to the desk, where he whipped off his uniform cap tucking it under his left arm and saluted.

'Wing Commander Ashton reporting as ordered sir!'

Air Vice Marshal Park eyed him a moment, then waved to the chair in front of his desk. 'Sit.'  Ashton did as he was bidden and waited.

'You know why you're here Ashton?'

Ashton coughed.  'I.. assume to receive orders for my new posting sir.'

The gimlet eyes bore into him.  'Correct.  At least in part.  There is a second reason I wanted you here Ashton.'  He paused.  'I don't like tearing a man off a strip in his own office!  What the hell did you think you were playing at?'

A cold shiver ran down Ashton's spine.  'Sir, I intended voluntarily grounding myself aft..'  The look in his eyes clearly obvious to Park, who resumed speaking.

'That's not what I meant.. although respecting your loyalty to your men, I cannot overlook your deliberate flouting of standing orders.

I'm sure you thought you'd got away with that little jaunt yesterday didn't you?  Don't bother to deny it.. I saw the German prisoner you had and I..'

The telephone jangled on his desk and he picked it up irritably, annoyed at being interrupted in mid flow.  'Park!'  He listened intently.  'He what?  Yes.. yes he's here.. oh very well..'  He passed the receiver to a surprised Ashton.  'It's for you Wing Commander..'  The irritation in his tone clear.

Ashton took the receiver confused.  'Uh.. thank you sir.. Hello?  Ashton here..'

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Alfelt sat back in the Hillman Minx, his hands free as he had once again given his parole to the officer in charge of the party conveying him to London.  He could see the enlisted men were not entirely happy with the situation, an observation underlined by the fact he was sandwiched in the back between a corporal and a private, the former of whom had the holster of his Webley .38 pistol unbuttoned, with the latter holding his Lee Enfield .303 rifle upright.  He kept his opinions to himself, but it was obvious that in the confines of the small car, the Lee Enfield was more of a liability than a benefit, while the gun in holster on the corporal's hip would not have taken much effort for him to acquire.  However, his sense of honour prevented him from doing so.  Instead he decided to take the opportunity to nap, he had the feeling such a luxury might be in short supply in the near future.

He was awoken by a curse and the car skidded to a halt, the driver, a private looking at the officer, a lieutenant.  'Sorry sir.. looks like a puncture!'

The lieutenant swore looking up at the sky.  'How long to fix it?'

'Dunno sir.. half hour or so?'

'Get on with it then!'

'Sir!'

Alfelt raised his hand carefully.  'Excuse me lieutenant, may I.. as you English say.. make a call of Nature?'

The lieutenant got out of the car and looked around.  They were in a lightly wooded area with no houses within sight, although a thin wisp of smoke arose from a wood about half a mile away.  He nodded.  'Go on then.. Harris.. go with him!'

The corporal to Alfelt's right grumbled but got out of the car, allowing Alfelt to clamber out after him.  He stood stretching his legs, pointing to a nearby copse.  'Over here?'  A surly nod was the only response, so he turned away and walked over to the copse with Harris in attendance.  Pausing at a tree shielded from the road he raised an eyebrow.  'A little privacy Corporal?'  Harris grunted and turned away.  After he had finished he called out.  'Finished.. thank you Corporal.'

Harris grunted, jerking the muzzle of the Lee Enfield he had taken from the private - whose name Alfelt didn't yet know - back toward the car.  With a suppressed sigh Alfelt followed him and sat on the grass verge while the two privates repaired the puncture, and in just hour three-quarters of an hour they were on their way.  Alfelt soon found himself lulled back to sleep.

He had been dozing in the seat for some time when a rumbling woke him and he looked around.  They were in a built up area, he guessed the outer suburbs of London approaching the centre of the city.

'You're awake then?  This is your lot's doing!'  The corporal waved a hand and Alfelt could now make out buildings in the gathering gloom, but not whole; jagged shapes littered the streets; the skyline owing more to the Himalayas than to a busy metropolis.  Overhead the thin bright fingers of searchlights swung across the sky piercing the hastening gloom, whilst the intermittent bang of A.A.A. added its own percussion to the thrumming which Alfelt now recognised as a strong force of bombers overhead.

Scowling, Alfelt retorted.  'This is not "my lot" as you put it Corporal.. this is the verdammt Nazis!  The cancer pervading my beloved Germany!  Do not make the mistake of believing all Germans are Nazis, no matter what the Austrian Corporal believes, we do not all swallow his poisonous rhetoric!'  He glared fiercely at the younger man who stared back belligerently.

'German.. Nazi.. same thing..'

Alfelt's fists bunched in fury.  Parole be damned!  Nobody was going to insult his country and get away with it!

'Corporal!'  The lieutenant in the front seat had turned round as if sensing Alfelt's change in mood, and snapped.  'No matter what your opinions are on the matter, the prisoner is an officer, and it does not do well to antagonise the enemy.'  He left unspoken the thought that the threat of invasion was still very real, and anyone who abused prisoners would not fare well if captured themselves.

'Sir..'  The corporal clammed up, clearly resentful of being thwarted in his aim of goading Alfelt.

Any further conversation was cut short by a loud explosion, and a blast wave which hit the car hard, hurling it on its side, rolling upright and the doors bursting open.