After the lunch meeting had concluded, Henry accompanied David to the Attaché office to show him the locations of files and documents, and to discuss procedures and protocols. "This is a list of Military Attachés in the other embassies. It's expected you wear your uniform on official visits, such as next week when you do your rounds to introduce yourself to them." He chuckled. "Your beard disguises your youth very well."
David nodded as he stroked it. "I'll have to stitch on my new rank. Good thing I hadn't already replaced the stars with the crown. Now all that's required is to exchange a star with a crown and triple the braid."
Henry offered him a puzzled expression. "I wasn't aware you had been promoted to major. Did I miss it in the excitement of destroying trains?"
"William informed me while I was in London two weeks ago, Sir."
"All the more reason for you to stop calling me sir."
They carried on with the familiarisation, and while Henry was outlining some projects which would be safe to have Wyndcom work on, Miss Hutchins knocked on the door and opened it. "The Ambassador asked me to give you this, Colonel Berry." She handed him a large manilla envelope, then smiled and left.
David glanced at the file label in the upper right corner. "This should be interesting. Captain Wyndcom's record dossier."
Henry pursed his lips and nodded. "That hadn't arrived before I left for London. I'm sure if I had had the opportunity to read through it, I wouldn't have given him such free reign while I was away."
David opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. "Best we find out what we're dealing with."
"I'll leave you with it, David. I have no need to know its contents in my new position."
"True, He's my problem now." He looked around the office, then back to Henry. "What else do I need to know here?"
"I think we're pretty much finished. I'll leave you to explore and become familiar, and we can discuss any arisings with Cognac after dinner."
After Picot had left, David began reading through the large assortment of folders and envelopes in Wyndcom's dossier. He arrived at a folder labelled Court Martial, and opened it.
Disobeying lawful commands: Lt Colonel Wyndcom disobeyed the lawful order to lead his Battalion forward to counter the enemy.
Obstructing operations: Lt Colonel Wyndcom delayed without lawful excuse, the execution of his mission.
Misconduct on operations: In the vicinity of the enemy, Lt Colonel Wyndcom failed to use utmost exertions to carry out lawful orders.
David leafed through the pages shaking his head, then he paused and stared at a sheet of maps. Oh, God! The idiot was there. Likely why it took so long for our reinforcements to arrive.
He flipped back to the beginning of the folder and read the proceedings of the Court Martial in detail. When he had finished, he slammed his fist on the desk, then stood and walked to the window to stare blankly out into the courtyard. Fuck! The abuse of position is pervasive.
He stood for a long while watching the snow fall, trying to clear his mind and control his rage.
<><><>
"You're here early," Maria said as she set her papers down and rose from the chaise longue.
"Couldn't concentrate." David tossed his hat onto the table and removed his overcoat, then they kissed and stood in a tight embrace.
"I've never felt you this disturbed. This tense." She stroked his beard and nuzzled her face into his neck. "Do you need to sit and talk?"
He held her tighter and nodded, remaining silent.
Half a minute later, Maria asked, "Or do you want a hot soak?"
He nodded again, but held the hug.
"What's it about?"
"The idiot."
"Windbag?"
He nodded.
"What's he done now?"
"It's what he hadn't done — Before."
"Before?"
"Before he arrived here. I started through his record dossier a while ago to gain a better understanding of him."
"And you found some of it disturbing?"
"More than disturbing. Sickening. I had difficulty keeping my lunch down."
"Come, let's cuddle on the bed. Talk it out of your system."
He nodded again, then sighed. "Yeah. I need to."
After another quarter minute of silence, David kissed her forehead and released the hug. "Yeah, I really do need to."
Maria slipped his suit coat off his shoulders and down his arms, then laid it over the back of a chair. "Your trousers off too. No sense getting them wrinkled. And the necktie" She laughed. "We may as well strip and lay under the duvet."
When they had settled in the bed, David began. "His cowardice directly contributed to the deaths of hundreds. But worse; thousands of lives would likely not have been wasted if he had obeyed his orders. His timely action would have prevented Fritz from overrunning us, and it may well have ended the battle then and there."
"Where was that?"
"At Ypres."
"When you were there?"
David nodded and remained silent as he shuddered. Maria snuggled closer and stroked the back of his head.
"We moved forward to help fill the gap left when the French had abandoned their positions. Wyndcom was to follow us with his battalion to assist in re-establishing the line and stop the advancing Krauts."
"He had a battalion?"
"He was a captain with an acting and brevet rank of lieutenant-colonel, for the Battalion Commander position."
"I thought you said promotions, even temporary ones, were for merit."
"Unless one has an influential family manipulating."
"So that's how the pompous buffoons end up in command."
"Yes, and their damage and disruption are relatively benign. Unless there is a need for action."
"As you told us at Christmas; the trenches are usually a boring routine."
"Yeah. Unless there was action."
"So what happened?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? Then why the problem?"
"That was the problem. He dithered and delayed while he prepared the battalion to move forward. Wasted an entire day, concocting all manner of excuse to justify. He was again ordered forward, ready or not."
"Why didn't his superior replace him?"
"Likely another privileged blithering buffoon. They over-populate the senior ranks. Anyway, when he finally did move, he led his battalion on a meandering trek parallel to the lines, and then back. He reported this was as he searched for a suitable place to approach the fighting."
"There was fighting going on all this time? Not the dull trench routine?"
"The routine had ceased nearly two days before this when Fritz launched the chlorine gas toward our trenches. The battle raged practically non-stop for two weeks. Had he had balls, he could have helped end it by the third or fourth day."
"So did he ever get his battalion into the fight?"
"His wandering was spotted, and he was ordered forward to join the fight. When the first of his men were wounded, he turned tail and ran, calling for a retreat. His cowardice allowed the battle to continue another week and a half. Sixty-five thousand casualties on our side alone."
"Fuck!" Maria held him tighter. "And what was done to punish him?"
"He was Court Martialled. He had three of the most serious disciplinary charges in the Army Act brought against him, each punishable by up to life imprisonment."
"So, why is he here? Why isn't he locked up?"
"Looks like his family stacked the Court with cronies, had him declared not guilty and deemed unfit for combat. His only punishment was being relieved of his command and reverted to his substantive rank."
"And a few months later, being given it back."
"And with a promotion to full colonel."
"I wonder how he feels about it." She shook her head.
"Unlikely that he feels anything. It's an inbred trait among them."
"And you have to work with him."
"Keep him from doing further damage."
"Are you going to be able to, though? Knowing what you do."
"Safer to know. Need to learn how to swallow my bile."
Maria pressed her mound into his thigh. "How about a long, slow futter to clear your mind?"
"I'd love that." David sighed and shifted his hips, then stopped. "But it feels as though Dickie isn't up for it."
She reached beneath the duvet to explore. "Oh, God! He's always up when we cuddle. You're still deeply disturbed, aren't you?"
He nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
"Let's just continue cuddling, then. You need to pour more of it out. To get rid of it all."
"Tough to do. I feel sick when I think about him."