Chapter 28: Lieutenant Commander 30th May 1940
The front of a German Panzer column may have been left to ruins in one of the most daring attacks that the Western Front of the war had ever seen, but the die was cast for the fate of the two men that conducted it. Lieutenant James Maguire's expert flying, and Airman David Donnelly's excellent spotting would have been the talk of the country on another day. Heroes living amongst the people in years to come, having undertaken an action that most would deem to be unthinkable. However, they were men who'd disobeyed the orders of those with more power than they did. They might have gone above and beyond the call of duty to assist in stalling the German advance, but it was all done incorrectly. The rule of Military law held jurisdiction over them and as they'd broken it, they would have to answer for the break in conduct.
There was nothing evidently wrong during the evening following the successful strike though James didn't speak to any of his fellow officers. Lieutenant Commander Borrett and Junior Lieutenant Allen specifically avoided him whereas Barnes was on watch and therefore otherwise engaged. It was the next morning that fate caught up to the two men. James woke up with a start at around half past four, his instinct telling him that he needed to be up and ready. Finding out a short while later that David had done exactly the same thing, the two met outside the officer's block with similar thoughts on their mind. Those thoughts were confirmed a few minutes later when a car arrived, a staff officer stepping out of it to address them, asking them to put on their finest uniforms ahead of a trip to Admiralty House. The Fleet Air Arm's overall commander, the fifth Sea Lord of the Admiralty, was based out of an office at the building in London. The gravity of their decision hit both men, especially James who knew that having to face the highest ranked man in the whole of their branch of the military, the likelihood of a positive outcome was low. They never saw Borrett at all, leaving before seeing any of the men either.
The three hours in the car on the way to London were agonising to say the least. Progress was frightfully slow at times due to poor weather conditions that morning, weather conditions that the two of them could only pray didn't strike the French coast. The evacuations were still ongoing at Dunkirk, the men on the beaches still vulnerable to the waves of Luftwaffe raids overhead during the day. The delaying action of the Panzer Division at Bourbourg bought the rear guards valuable time to be able to dig into a better defensive position to continue to stubbornly block the Germans from the city of Dunkirk itself. It would still be touch and go as to whether they could get many more men out before the overwhelming strength of the Germans took over, with even the Prime Minister privately conceding that many would not make it home. The thoughts of the lives that they'd saved were on the minds of James and David during the journey, unwilling to let go of the pride they'd gained from completing the successful attack. The best friends were ready for the Court Martial that lay in wait for them because their consciences were clearer than any man in the whole military.
Admiralty House was only around the corner from the Prime Minister's office in Downing Street. In the heart of London, around the streets of Westminster, James felt somewhat more at home than David did. London almost scared the Irishman. He knew of the vast scale it was supposed to be, but he was truly taken aback by the build-up of houses in and around the city. The journey may not have taken them through those built-up areas, yet it was enough for him to see the vast metropolis of buildings that dotted the landscape. He desperately wanted to ask James about the city, knowledge held within his best friend that could be bestowed upon him. With a Court Martial to go to and men that they did not know sharing the car with them, it unfortunately would have to wait.
The Grand building was not too dissimilar to the others around it. With a traditionally London-esque set of windows at the front and a soldier on guard outside, it could have been a number of buildings throughout the city. Walking in, they were soon ushered up the stairs to the right, following the signs that led to the office of the Fifth Sea Lord himself. The officer that travelled in the car with them on the way continued to take them further into the building, his brisk step indicating that they were pushing to be on time for their Court Martial, though it struck James that it was odd that they were not heading to a larger room to conduct the trial. No questions were asked of their presence, other than by a secretary in the corridor, who needed to know where to direct them to. She pointed to a room a couple of doors down, the officer pointing it out to the two men.
"Wait there until you are called in please Gentlemen. Good Day".
Obeying the instruction, ironically being the very offense that they were to be court martialled for not doing, James led the way to the small space opposite the door. There was not another man in sight once the officer and secretary departed, leaving the two of them to finally have a moment to talk to each other.
"Are you alright, David?" James asked, concerned.
"I was about to ask ye the same question". He smiled as he replied. "I… I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't a bit nervous".
Expecting his friend to be daunted by the prospect of the Court Martial only a day after returning to service as well as the overwhelming size of London too, he was prepared to do what he must. There were people at home who needed the two of them to come home safely once all the battles that needed to be fought were won. Battles that were coming in all forms, from dogfights with eager German fighters, to insane attack runs on a Panzer division and now, the hierarchy of the Fleet Air Arm.
"When we get in there David, I will do whatever it takes to ensure that you will face no action against you or any stain on your record…".
"James…". He tried to stop him, but unsuccessfully so.
"No David. You need to be able to be free to go home, to look after Orla and Marie… live the life that you have worked so hard to create. I disobeyed the orders directly, it is my honour that must be sacrificed if need be, not yours".
Sometimes James could be too good. Unreal, in fact. What he was offering his friend was everything that a man could ask for in their best one, a steely determination to put themselves behind the needs of their mate. Reciprocation was inevitable.
"When we get in there, I will be taking the blame. The Kingdom can survive without me spotting targets on the ground…".
"David…". James was equally unsuccessful.
"It can James. But what it can't do is survive without you. Yer something else when ye fly a plane James, ye really are. And what about Erin? Orls can look after Marie without me, but Erin would be broken if ye were put in prison. She needs ye James, so if anyone's goin' to prison, it's me".
A brotherhood of complete trust and faith, neither man could let the other suffer. There was far too much at stake for either of them to be destroyed by the ruminations of an ugly Court Martial into their conduct. They knew they were fools in many ways for committing an offence that James as an officer would punish any man for within a second should they abscond. Dunkirk changed the boundaries of disobedience though and concerned only with the lives of men that were sorely needed for the fighting to come, they'd gone against the rules that they were forced to follow in service to the country. Lesser men would crumble in front of the almost certainly snooty, upper-class officers that would interrogate, and most likely berate, them for their decision to do what they thought was best, not what was expected. Conscience was not something that would be taken into consideration of men of that ilk as they simply would not have one.
Before the two could argue about who would take the blame upon their shoulders, the door to the office they were waiting to be called into was opened. A tall man appeared, his hair hidden by the cap of the Fleet Air Arm that he wore. Decked out in his full uniform, which looked almost unworn, he wore an expression on his face that told neither of them anything about was what to come.
"Lieutenant Maguire?" He identified James first.
"Yes, Sir".
"Airman Donnelly?"
"Yes, Sir". David responded to his name being spoken.
"Come inside, Gentlemen".
Shuffling back into the room a short distance, the man held the door open to its full extent to allow the two men to file into the room. An older man, most certainly the senior of the two, was sat behind the desk as they walked in, standing to attention to receive the men. There were no seats for either of them, the officer who kindly opened the door for them taking the solitary seat left in the corner.
Immediately, James knew that he was not the Fifth Sea Lord of the Admiralty. Though he'd never met the man himself, Guy Royle, he'd seen a photograph of him alongside Lieutenant Commander Borrett inside Borrett's office at Worthy Down. There was some relief as a meeting with the Sea Lord himself was a terrifying prospect regardless of how well held their convictions would be. However, the apprehension had not fully dissolved for either him or David, standing to receive what they assumed would be a scathing attack on their credibility as men in service of the Kingdom.
Sitting back down, introductions were made.
"My name is Air Commodore Gamble".
The senior officer did not speak with an overly posh accent, but his demeanour suggested an upper-class background. Sporting a short but thick moustache, the man's hair was visibly receding, not hidden by a cap like the other officer. A man of clear experience, James feared he would be harsh upon them, stereotyping him as one of the upper-class officers who he didn't hold a liking to.
"This is Captain Penrose".
By contrast, Captain Penrose was a much younger man. Facially, he was clean, with just a light stubble visible. The sort of man who wouldn't stand out in a crowd, he was certainly not posh. James guessed that he must have been from around the home counties, most likely Kent in his opinion. Like the more senior Air Commodore, the Captain did not carry looks of joviality towards the two men of the 815 Naval Air Squadron that stood before them.
"I suspect that you know why you are". The Air Commodore continued.
"Yes, Sir". They replied in unison, now stood at ease.
David's stomach bubbled. His mouth was drier than the wit of Sister Michael, a moistureless vacuum that made speaking very difficult. To his side, James held his head high. Although they might have been facing up to the lashing in different ways, the fundamental element was the same. There were no regrets.
"Lieutenant Commander Borrett, your commanding officer, has reported both of you for disobeying a direct order to lay mines outside the harbours of Rotterdam and Brouwershaven. Lieutenant Maguire, is this correct, did you disobey the order?"
"It is, Sir".
"Airman Donnelly, do you also agree that this is correct and that you also disobeyed this order?"
"I did, Sir".
Air Commodore Gamble huffed as both of them confirmed that they'd indeed broken the Military Laws that governed them. Neither man was one that was likely to cause trouble, having excellent records during their service, which made the disobeying of the orders odd to those who did not know them.
"Lieutenant Maguire, as the senior man in rank, I would like you to run through the events of yesterday morning with me from your perspective. Airman Donnelly, if you have anything else to add then you may do so afterwards. Are we clear, Gentlemen?"
Confirming their agreement, the Air Commodore waved James on with a flick of the wrist, eager to discover the reasoning behind his refusal to obey Borrett's order, the Lieutenant Commander now proven to have been telling the truth in reporting the men.
"I was assisting some of the men in my squadron with the maintenance of one of our aircraft when Lieutenant Commander Borrett arrived in our main hangar with orders for the squadron to prepare for deployment".
"Did he advise the rest of the squadron on where you were to fly to or only yourself?" Captain Penrose, taking note, interrupted.
"Only to me, Sir. He spoke to me in the hangar whilst the men prepared".
Gamble and Penrose nodded to each other, pausing the questioning as the latter caught up on the notes of the meeting. David glanced up at James, who still held his head high, giving the appearance of a man undaunted on the exterior. Inside, the same resolved was not quite in evidence, but hidden away deep, he let the thoughts simply stay as just that, not allowing his mind to cloud his approach.
"The specific orders in question were passed to Lieutenant Commander Borrett directly from the Sea Lord himself, Lieutenant…". Gamble continued once Penrose had caught up. "… in refusing to obey those orders, you do realise that you are questioning the decision making of the very highest authority in this line of service?"
"I am aware that I am, Sir".
David stood in disbelief next to his friend. He couldn't quite work out how James was managing to remain so calm, let alone how commanding the tone of his voice was. Unembarrassed by his actions, James would not be harassed into an apology by the Air Commodore, despite his searching questions. If the Fifth Sea Lord of the Admiralty's orders went against the young Englishman's moral duty, then he would question any order happily.
"Then why, Lieutenant Maguire, knowing that you would be disobeying the Fifth Sea Lord and being aware of the punishment for doing so, did you still insist on refusing to perform mining duties over the Dutch coast?"
"I did the correct action that my duty demanded, Sir".
"I think you will find that I will be the judge of that Lieutenant Maguire!"
Air Commodore Gamble raised his voice at the partially arrogant reply. A mistaken arrogance, which was in fact James' confidence in completing the duty he saw fit, the young Lieutenant flinched. He still would not be riled into becoming aggravated, but beneath the surface, the same simmering rage he'd felt towards Borrett the day before began to build.
"What was your specific complaint about the orders, Lieutenant Maguire? I've reviewed your record and I have come across a report made by the commanding officer at Bircham Newton. You actively engaged three Messerschmitt's over the North Sea and very commendably, confirmed three kills. So I have to wonder to myself, were the orders not daring enough for you?"
It took every fibre of his being for James to not explode. His reputation as a highly capable pilot was something that worked in his favour usually, with the men of the squadron looking to him as the man who set the example for them all, currying their favour in the process. Yet in the confines of an office at Admiralty House, the same reputation that saw him saw favourably treated by those who served under him, was working against him with those higher in rank. The Air Commodore and Captain didn't understand that his motives for going against his commanding officer were not personal, instead being for the good of the many rather than himself.
"With respect, Sir, my record shows that I have completed everything that has ever been asked of me, does it not?"
Taking a stand, James searched first the Air Commodore and then the Captain, to see if they were going to tell him any differently. The two senior officers were baulked by his resistance, however, the Air Commodore was not put off by it.
"It does, Lieutenant. Which makes your refusal to discharge your orders, all the more confusing".
"Sir, my point is that I have proven across many months of training and active service, that I am not merely a man who shows his ability in engagements. I have ably performed my duties of the more mundane roles that come with my commission and have done so happily".
"What changed?"
"I have been aware for many days of the situation that the Expeditionary Force have been faced with in France. When Lieutenant Commander Borrett informed me of our orders to mine the entrances to harbours hundreds of miles away, I could not believe that any man could consciously agree to such a pointless exercise when he knew his comrades were in need of assistance on the other side of the Channel".
"Are you accusing the Fifth Sea Lord of lacking a conscience, Lieutenant?"
Captain Penrose jumped in over the Air Commodore, who approved of the question. Still fighting to contain his fury, James breathed out his frustration quietly, taking a moment to consider the answer that he would reply with. To his side, David's brow was beginning to drip sweat. If as an officer, James was being grilled in the way that he was, then a lowly airman such as he would be torn to shreds when they came to him.
"I would not dare to, Captain Penrose. My query with the order was my own conscience pointing me in a direction which my orders were not. With the greatest respect to those in High Command, a whole squadron was being put to waste to mine harbours that the German Navy would be foolish to enter. Our own Navy's presence around the evacuation area was already enough of a deterrent for them. I felt that it was a waste of our time in completing the mining when men were being cut down retreating across France, where we could assist them".
"Your concern for the men of the Expeditionary Force is highly appreciated, Lieutenant Maguire...". The Air Commodore took over once more. "… however, it is not your decision to make on how much of a deterrent is required against the Kriegsmarine, it is the de-".
"Do we not have a duty to prevent immediate threats to the men's lives, Sir?" James bravely cut in. "Families of these brave men will be bereaved, all the while a squadron gets a tick next to its name because it did what was ordered without stopping to consider whether it could have done anything to save the men that required their help so desperately!"
Overstepping the mark, James's blood boiled. He'd gone red in the face and at the end of his passionate interruption, he was practically hoarse with rage. The simple act of caring for the lives of those who they served alongside was lost in the bureaucracy of the laws that defined them. Men like Borrett who'd ticked a box on behalf of headquarters were able to continue on serving without making any difference to the war efforts whereas bolder, selfless men like he and David were put in front of men who'd not seen a second's action during the conflict to explain why they felt it necessary to try to stop the German Army's advance, making a genuine contribution to the efforts in recovering the Expeditionary Force.
Allowing tensions to simmer for a moment, the Air Commodore showed an unusual amount of leniency towards the young man at the end of his outburst. Like David next to him, he'd expected a castigation of momentous proportions in return from the senior officer, who instead brought his hand up to stroke his chin. Even though he'd made such an emotionally driven speech in the room, it was the Air Commodore who was truly in charge of it rather than James, bending the atmosphere to his will effortlessly.
"Lieutenant Maguire, you are showing to be a man of great moral honour, which I cannot discredit you for. As officers, we do have a duty to prevent immediate threats to the life of the men that serve this Kingdom, however we also have a duty to those in higher office than we are to uphold the orders that they give to us. It is this balancing act that you have failed to master, would you not agree?"
Humbled, James returned to his normal colour. The Air Commodore was painfully correct in what he was saying, and he knew it too. It might not have been correct morally, but there was more to his duty as a Lieutenant than the aspect of preventing immediate threats to lives of the men. It was, as Gamble put it, a balancing act. James was many things. A gentleman, a friend, a lover and a hero. He was not a tightrope walker.
"I agree, Sir".
"Good".
There was another break to allow for Penrose to catch up with taking the notes, Gamble taking a sip of water from the full glass on his desk. As he did so, he studied the two men in front of him from behind it. He first looked to David, noticing that the Irishman looked distressed despite having barely said a word just yet. Reading the file of the lower ranked of the two, he'd seen that his re-enlistment papers were fresh as of the day before, wondering how a man who'd only just signed back up was able to get into so much trouble in a short space of time. With his inspection of David complete, he looked to James, who watched his fellow officer as he was studied. The Air Commodore was not a fool; he was facing a headstrong young officer who spoke the truth, not just what he wanted to hear. His file noted the impression he'd made at both Hendon and Worthy Down as an officer that the airmen respected beyond any other. To Gamble, it was easy to see why.
"So, Lieutenant Maguire, Lieutenant Commander Borrett reported that the two of you exchanged words loudly in front of the men. Did you not think to take your disagreement to a more private setting?"
"I believed my argument, though sensitive, was time critical, Sir".
"It may have been, but the rest of your squadron were then allowed a front row seat to witness their two most senior officers argue!"
Resisting the temptation to remind the Air Commodore that the argument not being conducted away from the men was as much Lieutenant Commander Borrett's fault as it was his, he opted to clear his throat instead. It pulled a raised eyebrow from both Gamble and Penrose, though neither of them were inclined to remind the Lieutenant of his place in the room.
"I understand from Lieutenant Commander Borrett, that the men were then asked whether any of them would accompany you to be your spotter?"
"That is correct, Sir". He confirmed with a nod.
"Sadly for you, none of them volunteered…".
The lack of faith from the men was eventually a feeling settled in his mind the previous evening. Initial thoughts of a lack of loyalty faded away, the young pilot coming to the understanding that the men were in a position where they couldn't follow him into his, the needs of their families outweighing the needs of other men's. Any man would have quite rightly been foolish to join James as his spotter come gunner for the mission to France.
"Except from Airman Donnelly here".
Attentions were turned to the nervous David, who believed he was going to need a miracle to not find himself behind the bars of a cell by the end of the day. James wished he could put an arm around his shoulders to calm him, an act of kindness that would not go down well with either Gamble or Penrose.
"Airman Donnelly, your file says that you left the service at the end of last month after the death of your brothers Peter and Lorcan Donnelly".
"That is correct, Sir".
Putting on his posher voice, it at least lifted James spirits as it had not gotten any better since the days at Hendon when he would speak to Flight Lieutenant Bentley, who found it hilarious. He could have sworn he'd seen Penrose's lips curve up for a half second out of the corner of his eye, but did not risk mentioning it during such a serious discussion.
"I am sorry for your loss Mister Donnelly". Gamble told him sincerely.
"T-Thank you, Sir". David replied, bemused by the kind words.
"Why exactly did you wish to re-enlist so soon? And why to the same squadron? I have it on good authority that you pushed specifically for a return to the 815, is that true?"
A matter of privacy between family and friends, he would never mention to the Air Commodore that he'd come back to try to cheer James up. They did not need to know of the grief that James' melancholic state caused Erin, or the painful stabbing it sent into his own heart. For the senior officers in the room, David would tell them a different story, one which was not the whole truth but was the one that was best for the greater good.
"Once I returned to my life back home, I realised that there was no difference that I could make from back in Ireland, Sir. I needed to be back where I belonged".
"But why the 815? You could have easily joined another squadron or even entered the air force itself. Your record was impeccable up until yesterday, any squadron would have taken you without second thought".
"I wanted to perform my duty in the correct setting, Sir. To do so, I wanted to fly with the best and that would mean flying with Lieutenant Maguire, Sir".
David's glowing reference in his ears, there was little James could do to stop the smile appearing across his face. It soon disappeared though as whilst Air Commodore Gamble might not have noticed it as he focused on David, Captain Penrose looked up from his notes to stare at James having seen him grinning. He couldn't get away with anything in that room.
"Lieutenant Maguire's record does speak for itself, I will grant you that, but I believe there is more to it than that". Gamble scoffed, a knowing look on his face. "You are both residents of Londonderry, are you not?"
"We are both from Derry, that is correct, Sir". David responded quickly.
"And you are also friends, are you not?"
The two turned their heads rapidly towards each other and back again, one trying to figure out what the other was going to say, if anything at all. If David knew James well enough though, he knew he'd be honest about their friendship. James, if he was as a good a friend to David as he thought, knew that David would think he would wish to be honest, which he would.
"We are friends, Sir". David confirmed calmly.
"But I would add, Sir…". James spoke up. "… that within the squadron, I do not treat Airman Donnelly favourably over any other man. I do not allow for favouritism to be perceived when dealing with him".
Another pause for Penrose to catch up on the notes allowed the two to breathe. Assuming that Lieutenant Commander Borrett must have disclosed their friendship to the Air Commodore, James cursed the man in his internal thoughts. Their files may have confirmed that they were both residents of Derry, but to a man like Gamble who they'd never met before, it was not obvious that they were friends. David did not hold any such thoughts against Borrett, as he believed that given the details of reports available to the man questioning them, he would have found out that they signed up together on the same day, at the same airfield. Whichever way it was though, they didn't appreciate their personal lives being brought into the events of the prior day. Their friendship was irrelevant in the context of what was required the day before.
"I am not here to question your treatment of Airman Donnelly, Lieutenant. I am trying to ascertain if the Airman here felt forced to join you in your refusal to perform orders because the two of you are friends".
"Sir!" David got the Air Commodore' attention, raising his voice more than he'd intended. "Whilst I would admit that Lieutenant Maguire being my friend made the decision far easier, I chose to join him because even though I did not know where we were going or what we were going to do, I knew that what we would be doing would be right".
"You place a lot of faith in the Lieutenant, Airman Donnelly, when his actions could lead to grave consequences for your own career in service of the Kingdom". Penrose added.
"Like I said to Lieutenant Commander Borrett, Captain, and I will say to you now… I would follow the Lieutenant to the gates of hell if he asked me to".
For the first time during the entirety of their tense cross examination, Air Commodore Gamble showed signs of being taken aback. After having appeared on the outside to be vulnerable to a scathing inquisition, David's resilience caught him off guard. In fact, the resistance of both men to fundamentally condemn themselves for committing the offence was a surprise, it seemed. Captain Penrose quickly scribbled down the notes of what David said as the Air Commodore took another sip of his drink. Neither of the two men in front of him attempted to make eye contact with him, nor did he try to examine them again.
With Penrose indicating that he was ready to continue, Gamble placed the glass back down onto the desk. He still needed to finish their full report on the day's events, changing his focus back to James in order to do so.
"From Lieutenant Commander Borrett's full report, he left to conduct the mission that the two of you failed to, shortly after Airman Donnelly's arrival. The two of you left shortly after for your own trip to France. You knew where you were going, Lieutenant Maguire?"
"I was able to find my way, Sir".
"Ever the resourceful man". He replied dryly. "Talk me through what happened once you reached the French coast".
Deep breath. That was what James let out on hearing that he would have to retell the story of their shear suicidal attack on the Panzer column. Modesty would need to be observed, but even he could see that it would be difficult for their actions not to be seen in a heroic light.
"Once we'd cleared the beach at Dunkirk, I consulted my own map of the area to try to logically pinpoint where we might find a German tank column. I knew from reports we'd received that the Panzers were rolling towards Bourbourg, so I set us on course for the outskirts to attempt to find the column".
"From intercepted German communications, they reported a lone biplane disabling eight of their panzers on just one bombing run outside of Bourbourg. I would imagine that you found your column?"
"Dav-… Airman Donnelly located the column once we were a few miles away. I did not think that we would get a better chance at taking them on, therefore I chose to immediately engage the Panzer column that were a couple of miles in front of us. Despite receiving fire, Airman Donnelly's accurate spotting enabled me to be able perfectly place our aircraft, release our explosives and evade being caught by the blast, Sir".
"Airman Donnelly's skills have been noted, thank you Lieutenant. As have your own". Gamble's voice softened, for the first time breaking into a smile. "But tell me, Gentlemen, do you really believe that you have made a difference?"
When they'd landed the day before, had they been asked, the answer would have been a resounding yes. It still was as they walked into Admiralty House that morning too. Stopping a tank column in its tracks to allow for the rear-guard protecting Dunkirk to dig into their defensive positions, they'd saved lives by disobeying orders. They were not aware, though they both would have assumed so anyway, that the mines that the rest of the squadron laid at the same time did not have the same effect. The Dutch harbours and their entrances lay untouched, with the squadron even having to withdraw as quickly as they'd entered into the vicinity when a hunting pack of ME 109's were seen to be waiting in the clouds. Dropping down to almost sea level, where the fighters would not follow in case they ran into any warships in the Channel, there were no reported casualties, though some of the Swordfish carried damage from the intense flak they'd also faced.
Still, it changed nothing. They stuck to their belief.
"We do, Sir".
Replying in unison, David joined James in holding his head up high. Discovering the resolve he'd been in short supply of earlier on, he was ready to face whatever punishment that the Air Commodore saw fit to bestow upon them. Gamble himself called Penrose over, the two whispering to each other whilst James and David stood still waiting. They couldn't hear what was being said, not trying to eavesdrop either as it would not have helped their cause, if they were to have one. It wasn't a Court Martial like Borrett suggested it would be, but they were still diligently cross examined as if it was one. James supposed it could have been that due to their records, the Fleet Air Arm did not want to cause a scandal by sending two of their finest men to prison, especially if word got out as to what they'd done.
After a few minutes of deliberation, Captain Penrose moved back to his seat, leaving Air Commodore Gamble to address the men.
"Airman Donnelly, would you please wait outside?"
Dipping his head to accept the request, David turned on his heel after glancing to his left to take a final look at his best friend. James looked to be just as calm as he'd been when they'd walked into the room, now being left to tackle both of the senior officers on his own. The Air Commodore waited for the door to shut behind David before he spoke to James again, his eyes fixed on the back of the Irishman until he'd gone. The tension in the room did not change, the mist of anger from all parties filling the air from the heated but frank conversation that was held between them. Gamble and Penrose hadn't been unfair to the two of them at all, but the young Lieutenant still couldn't help but think that they didn't understand their motives.
"I hope you understand why this was necessary, Lieutenant?" Gamble began.
"I do, Sir". The unwavering James replied.
"Good. Then you must know that after receiving a report such as the one received from Lieutenant Commander Borrett, we needed to act to able to come to a decision very quickly".
For once, he didn't completely understand the Air Commodore. A Court Martial or cross examination could be hastily arranged at a time of war, but not usually away from the front lines where the constant battlefield manoeuvres made it necessary to quicken the process. It must have been, he assumed not for the first time, that their outstanding records were the reason for why the decision was rushed through so quickly. There was already one scandal in the evacuation at Dunkirk. The public wouldn't enjoy opening their morning papers to find another one.
"May I say something, Sir?" James enquired with the Air Commodore.
"You may, Lieutenant".
There was one final action he needed to perform before the decision came from the Air Commodore. He could not allow it to go unsaid before his likely spell in prison was announced.
"Airman Donnelly has a young wife and daughter back at home, Sir. They should not suffer for any actions that you have deemed as dishonourable or against the law. I would kindly request that any punishment that is to be given to Airman Donnelly is instead given to me, without a stain on his record or his honour… Sir".
They might have both made promises to take the blame on the other's behalf, but as the officer, James ultimately knew that he would be the one to make the sacrifice. David might have thought that Orla could live on without him whilst he languished in prison, yet in his mind, it was wishful thinking. Not only did Orla need her husband back once the fighting was over, but Marie needed her father too. He couldn't deny his best friend the life he'd worked so tirelessly for because of his own reckless abandonment of orders. It would mean losing the true love of his own life in his friend's place. He did not expect Erin to ever want to see him again, and he wouldn't blame her either. She would find someone else, a better man than the poor excuse for a one that he was according to the laws of the Military, moving on to a happier life where people would forget she was ever with him.
"Your concern for your friend does you great credit, Lieutenant Maguire…". Gamble, smiling, put across his view. "… but you can spare us the theatrics. Neither of you will be going anywhere near a prison cell".
Another shockwave ran through the room. He may have stuck to his convictions throughout, but James honestly believed that his service days were over. Air Commodore Gamble's revelation that they were certainly not going to be changing to days behind bars surprised him greatly. He thought he'd understood what was going on for the most part that morning, then all of a sudden, everything became clouded in an odd haze.
Looking to the man for an answer, it instead came from Captain Penrose, who he glanced over to after getting nothing from Gamble.
"Lieutenant, your decision to not only engage, but neutralise, the Panzers at Bourbourg was perhaps the single greatest act of bravery and valour that has been undertaken since the start of this war. We may have military laws that we must abide by, but this country could not turn its back on a young man that is willing to attempt and achieve the impossible. The same goes for Airman Donnelly too".
Completely and utterly confused, he turned his head back to Gamble, who almost appeared as if he was trying to supress laughter. Following on from such a gruelling examination of not only the actions of the previous day, but of their own lives as well, praise for disobeying a direct order was the last thing he expected for him and David to receive. Remaining modest even to himself, he accepted the praise though did not revel in it. As much as it was indeed amusing the Air Commodore, he decided to inform the stricken Lieutenant of what was really going on.
"We could not allow for such a gallant officer to have his record damaged by what most men would see as acting upon his instinct when the orders given were rather poor. Of course, after Lieutenant Commander Borrett's report, we needed to ensure that the situation was handled appropriately without the need of a full Court Martial…".
He was right. They needed to avoid a scandal… finally James could allow himself to relax, as there certainly wouldn't be any repercussions for their actions.
"Obviously, due to the nature of your… rather public disagreement with Lieutenant Commander Borrett, the two of you cannot serve in the same squadron again".
That was one issue he'd quickly thought of in his head, just as the Air Commodore began to reveal it. He did not hold it against Borrett for reporting them, but to serve under him again would not be a feasible proposition, doubting that the Lieutenant Commander would want him as his second in command either.
"The Lieutenant Commander has been informed that he will be transferred to another squadron to lead it, far away from Worthy Down where yourself and Airman Donnelly will remain".
Believing that he'd started to understand the bigger picture, James was suddenly thrown again. The man, who very rightly reported them for failing to follow the order to mine the harbour entrances, was the one to suffer. They certainly couldn't be part of the same squadron or even another squadron that shared the same base, but if anyone should have been moving regiments, it should have been him and David. Lieutenant Commander Borrett was not the man who'd disobeyed orders, on the contrary, he'd executed them diligently. Logistically it would have been easier moving the one man rather than two, but it still did not sit right with him. The men would almost certainly be proud to have him back, and although as much as they didn't hold Borrett in same high regard, it would be unlikely that any of them would wish for him to leave. Without an understanding of the basis of why Borrett was the one to move, it made little sense.
"The 815 will therefore be under the command of a newly appointed Lieutenant Commander". Gamble informed him.
"Whoever it is, Sir, I promise to give them my full support".
"I think you shall have to". He chuckled, Penrose chuckling too. "For the 815 will be commanded by the newly appointed Lieutenant Commander James Maguire".
For a couple of moments, James wondered whether he'd fallen asleep on the way to Admiralty House that morning and was going to wake up with a start a second later. When that did not happen, it began to sink in that he'd actually been promoted. A nineteen year old promoted to a rank of seniority that many his age could only dream of, even those from families with the highest standing. He was going to be a Lieutenant Commander. From the moment he'd entered the room, it should have been a trip to the cells that was in the offing, but instead it was a march to glory. Gamble retrieved a piece of cloth from the drawer of the desk, the new rank for James to sew onto his sleeve. One that he could proudly wear to show those around him that he was a man of rank and responsibility, that would be observed with honour at all times.
"I… T-Thank you, Sir".
He could barely say anything he was that stunned. A man who'd disobeyed the orders of those far senior to him was suddenly earning promotion from an action that would never under any circumstance receive praise. But as always, there was something unique to him which he couldn't put a finger on himself. Everything always appeared to fall into place as if it were meant to be or as if someone was making it so. Being nothing more than an ordinary man, he had to believe he was lucky enough for the former to be the truth.
"It is well deserved, Lieutenant Commander Maguire". Gamble spoke with a gripping sincerity, handing him the new rank over. "You are something else, James… a Tesla in a crowd of Edison's. There is no man more fitting to receive a promotion than you are".
"What about Airman Donnelly, Sir".
Never ever thinking about himself first, if he was going to get a promotion, then David deserved one too. Without his excellent spotting then they wouldn't have been able to carry out the attack on the German Panzer column in the first place. Such high praise was merited for them both.
"He is Leading Airman Donnelly now, Lieutenant Commander…". Penrose informed him. "… though myself and the Air Commodore believe it would be appropriate as both his commanding officer and friend, that you inform him".
"It would be a privilege, Sir".
Standing up, Air Commodore Gamble walked around to the front of the desk, leaving little gap between himself and the still in shock James. There was a spring in his step, clearly pleased to be the officer who was allowed to present the young man with his promotion to a higher rank.
"You're a squadron commander now, James. Your men, your orders… your responsibility. You will have hard decisions that you will have to make in the coming days and months, decisions where an answer will be required even if there is not a favourable one. Do you think you can handle it?"
"I will do my duty, Sir". He replied without hesitation. "I always do".
"You have an odd way of going about it… but I would not doubt you for a moment".
Unconventional, unrelenting and unapologetic, James might not have been the textbook officer that he'd been taught to be, but he was the officer that was needed. Every Army, Navy or Air Force would have their officers who fought their battles early, with the paragraphs of information that other officers wrote out for them. Every so often though, an officer like him would come along. Popular with the men, in time feared by the enemy and willing to bend the rules to do whatever it would take to defend the Kingdom. The Fleet Air Arm were lucky to have two men of that calibre in James and David.
Air Commodore Gamble turned back to the desk, picking up a folder that had been sat there for the duration of the meeting. Complete with a seal, when he handed it over to James, the young man's name was on the front of it.
"Your orders, Lieutenant Commander Maguire".
Opening the document, the new commander of the 815 Naval Air Squadron quickly reviewed what they would be doing. Active service was truly about to begin, with a final trial period before they were released to their real task. It was to the destination that he'd predicted they'd be ordered to, rather than the one his best friend believed that they would be. They were going to be joining up with the Mediterranean Fleet once they'd spent enough time on the carrier, becoming used to a life at sea in calmer waters before travelling to those that could at any point become troublesome.
"You will fly the squadron to Devenport on Monday before loading onto the Illustrious on Tuesday". Gamble expanded. "806 and 819 Squadrons will join you, however, you are in operational command. The commanders of the other squadrons report to you".
"That is a lot of responsibility, Sir". James nervously chuckled.
"I think we all know that if any man can shoulder such responsibility, then that man is you, Lieutenant Commander".
Taking his turn to speak sincerely, Penrose nodded his head to James to try to increase the young man's confidence. He was being thrown in at the deep end, almost certainly inevitable to run into hostility from the other commanders who whilst equal in rank, held greater seniority than he did. The problem for those men, as well as all of the other officers in the squadrons, was that not a single of them was mad enough to fly a lone biplane at a Panzer column or take on three ME 109's at once whilst testing a fighter they'd only spent a couple of hours at the controls of.
"I… I am not sure what to say, Sir".
"There is nothing that you need to say, Lieutenant Commander Maguire. Just do your country proud and get this war won".
Every man wanted to do what Air Commodore Gamble was ordering him to. The war needed to be won so women like Erin could have their men come home to them safely, ready for a chapter of their lives to be lived in total peace. James would do everything he could to ensure that peace was achievable as above anything else, even his promotion, he longed have her back in his arms.
"Do you have anything to add Captain Penrose?" The Air Commodore asked his Captain.
"I echo your sentiments Air Commodore…". Penrose answered whilst shaking his head. "… this country needs you at your best Lieutenant Commander. The days are only going to get darker. You are a beacon of hope for the nation to cling to".
"Then you are dismissed, Lieutenant Commander. There is a car waiting for yourself and Leading Airman Donnelly to take you back to Worthy Down. You will receive a call from headquarters this evening with further details of your upcoming training".
"Sir!"
Standing to attention, Britain's beacon of hope exited the room with a wide grin upon his face. The grin was not from feeling proud of himself, though he'd be a liar if he said those feelings did not exist inside him, it was from being able to write to Erin to tell her. She would be so proud of him, kissing him until he couldn't breathe, loving him how he wished to be loved. The rest of the family would be too, Martin and Deirdre being able to show off to the rest of Derry that whilst their nephew might be English, he was a man that was looked up to by all.
Locking eyes with David once the door closed behind him, the Irishman looked as if he'd done another lap around Hendon. David was breathing so heavily, working himself up so much the longer it took for James to reappear, that he was on the verge of collapsing.
"Lieutenant!". David addressed him formally. "Are we done for?"
Snorting, James broke into a fit of giggles that David did not understand at all. Suddenly feeling like his wife did whenever she would be confused by what was going on around her, he didn't like it all. How could James come out of a cross examination, bursting with laughter that did not even subside after a minute or so? It took a whole minute for David to regain his own focus, and when he did so, he was questioning his friend once more.
"James, what's going on?"
"David… you would not believe it". He laughed. "We must be on our way. I'll explain when we get back to Worthy Down".
Tilting his head, James gestured for David to lead the way back down to the streets of London that the Irishman was glad to not be on. The young Donnelly was not so easily convinced that they could simply walk out of the front door without a punishment in sight.
"Worthy…".
"Oh…". James's mind was suddenly populated with a thought. "… it is Lieutenant Commander now by the way, Leading Airman Donnelly".
"Feck off".
The words of disbelief left David's lips before he had a chance to stop himself but as he was with James, it did not matter. Another snort from the Englishman prompted the realisation to dawn on him that his best friend was indeed serious. He'd taken their promotions in that office rather than their punishments.
Soon heading off, the two men appeared jolly to anyone that they passed. It was the truth too; both of them were absolutely delighted. Like James, David couldn't wait to write home to tell Orla of his promotion. Little Marie would get to know in time that her daddy was a hero along with her Uncle James, who now held complete responsibility for keeping him safe, not that he didn't already. There were many friendships that were spoken about in legend, friends that would fight side by side until the bitter end but there were none that were quite like the friendship the two young men had. Traversing the hostility between Ireland and England, there was not a combination in any world military more deadly than James Maguire and David Donnelly.
The two were so preoccupied celebrating their promotions, that they did notice that they were being watched all of the way down the corridor. Air Commodore Gamble opened the door once the two men were far enough away, Captain Penrose soon filing out behind him. They'd given the men a grilling to keep in line with procedures, acting as if it were the normal thing to do when an act of heroism took place. But when it came to Lieutenant Commander James Maguire, for the two men in question, at no time was any part of his existence normal.
"I think you made quite the convincing Captain of the Fleet Air Arm, Smithers". Menzies addressed him, ceasing to exist as Air Commodore Gamble.
"I was worried we might have been overdoing it, Sir". He replied, lips pressed closely together.
"Nonsense. When it comes to young James, we have to make sure that we do not allow him to think he is being treated too specially without reason".
For a half second, Smithers turned to Menzies, hoping that he might finally be able to find out why they were going to such lengths to almost control the serving life of the young man. His noble heroism could not be questioned, and neither could the Irishman's, but David's promotion was just another part of the plan. It would have been wrong, as James told them, for David not to be honoured as well considering the attack was more than a one-man job. However, a nineteen year old being given command of not only a squadron, but of a group of squadrons onboard a carrier was highly irregular. Nineteen year old officers were meant to fill the junior ranks, not the senior ones and when there were men with equally distinguishable service records leading the other squadrons, it was bizarre to Smithers that James would be chosen.
"No Smithers". Menzies smiled. "I can't".
"It was worth a try, Sir…". Smithers huffed. "But I would ask, how did you manage to have his promotion approved so quickly, especially with Borrett's report".
Sighing, the Lieutenant Colonel was not fazed by the question, though it made it no easier to answer. Between James Maguire and cracking the Enigma, his service to the country was unending, though he enjoyed the latter far more than the former. A tired Menzies looked Smithers in the eye.
"I berated young James in there for failing at a balancing act, but that is the game that we play with his life too, Captain Smithers".
"Sir?"
"There are certain people that would like to see his safety, yet we also have to ensure he has the chance to do his duty. There are areas where the two cross which make them hard to control as one, let alone as separate entities".
It sounded too complicated to Smithers, and with Menzies' continued refusal to delve any further into James' background with him, he was once again at a dead end. His own duty dictated that he would have to do whatever was required to fulfil their obligations when it came to the pilot, wherever the duty would take them. Knowing of the missions planned for the Illustrious, anticipating the imminent arrival of the Italian Fleet into the Mediterranean theatre, it would not get any easier to keep him safe.
"Should I pass on any information to Miss Kavanagh for Miss Quinn?" He asked the Lieutenant Colonel.
"Inform her of the attack on the Panzers but spin a yarn Smithers. Perhaps they were the only surviving crew or something like that. Leave it to him to tell his sweetheart about the promotion".
"Yes, Sir".
The blonde Irish woman who loved the newly appointed Lieutenant Commander so much was just another twist in the strange tale that was James' life. Charlene proved to be an excellent conveyer of information at least, as well as the always reliable Emerald Two who kept a close eye on proceedings in Derry for them.
With the Lieutenant Commander's life back on schedule, Smithers soon departed Admiralty House, changing back into his usual clothes to return home in. There he would be contacting not only his agents across the Irish Sea, but also his primary source of information in Berlin too. To gather as much as they could from the German capital was vital to the war effort.
For the Germans would soon be knocking on the door.
Being the friend of Charlene Kavanagh was a dream come true.
Being the friend of Charlene Kavanagh, who could find out what her English Fella was up to, was even more than that.
Every week they would hold a clandestine meeting out in the countryside somewhere, usually on a Saturday lunchtime, where Charlene would give her the latest updates on where the service to the Kingdom was taking James. Every Saturday was a trip to a world of excitement that had long since vanished with James the previous September, furthering her wish to be held by him again. Though it may have increased the longing she felt, for Erin, every single piece of information that Charlene could give her was golden. Charlene appeared to understand what I did to her too, speaking with such enthusiasm that told Erin that she really cared about her. Little did she know that Charlene was as adept as Lyla Walsh when it came to putting on an act to be able to feign interest around those that they could not stand.
Nobody could ever know about their meetings. Whenever she was asked, she would say that it was just another one of the long walks that she enjoyed, rather than it being for a specific purpose. It did not prevent her from walking around with a smile on her face though and she was heading in the direction of the Mallon house to share the positivity with Michelle. She felt in the mood to get up to mischief with the dark-haired girl, who would always have something in mind when it came to trouble. Escaping her own house was vital too, as Granda Joe arrived earlier that morning and had argued with Gerry ever since.
When the front door of the Mallon house was opened, she found an unusual sight behind it. A teary-eyed looking Michelle stood before her, immediately worrying the young Quinn as to what was going on. James was most likely to put Deirdre or Martin down as his next of kin, leaving her to wonder whether an incident occurred after Charlene found out the information about him. The back of her throat began to prickle, scared stiff that her world was about to be torn apart.
"Michelle… is there… is…".
The words wouldn't come for Erin, frozen solid in fear of what might be about to be said. Not her James… it couldn't be…
"James is fine…". Michelle replied, correctly guessing Erin's fears.
The blonde breathed a huge sigh of relief, though was still concerned as to what the reason for her upset was. Michelle wasn't heartless, Erin knowing that there was emotion within her that would be released from time to time, but it was rare to see the corners of her eyes with water in them.
"What is it then, Michelle?" She enquired.
"I… come in".
Accepting the request, Erin stepped inside once her friend took a step back to stop blocking the entrance to the house. She smiled to Martin and Deirdre who were waiting in the corridor behind their daughter, making it clear to her that she'd interrupted something by knocking on the door. For once it didn't look to be an argument between parents and daughter about her choice of fella.
"You alright Erin, love?" Deirdre asked politely.
"Aye I am". She beamed back. "But I am worried for Michelle, so I am. Please can ye tell me what's going on".
Deirdre glanced over to her daughter, finding Michelle shaking her head to indicate that she either didn't want to or couldn't say what was wrong. Martin shook his head too, leaving it to the matriarch of the house to inform her of whatever it was that was causing Michelle such great upset. Martin's knuckles weren't bruised so it certainly wasn't the case that she'd been caught in bed with a fella again.
"The Kells boy, ye know the one…".
Of course. Johnny Kells. She jumped to the conclusion that anyone else would, knowing that the young man signed up to fight just like her wee Prince. Johnny was not a fella she found particularly attractive herself, not even being a percent of James when it came to good looks, James being the best ride in Derry and, in her opinion, the world.
"We saw his parents this morning and… well they were grieving, so they were, because they'd had a letter to say he'd been killed in action".
The pieces fell together. Michelle's favourite ride, the same young man that once leapt from the roof of the Mallon house in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid Martin's fists, was dead. The young Kells was a private in the Royal Ulster Rifles, serving in their second battalion with the Expeditionary Force in France. He'd been posted to the Belgian front, where the Expeditionary Force as a whole performed well in repulsing everything that the Germans could throw at them. Unfortunately, they were let down by their French comrades further down the long line of defence whilst they stoically defended the area around the Belgian city of Leuven.
"Oh Michelle…".
Without another thought, Erin pulled her into a hug as Michelle's resistance to emotion was finally broken after a defence that the Army would have been proud of. Michelle Mallon openly weeping would be a sight that many would say was mere myth and superstition, but there was nothing false about how she was feeling that lunchtime. They might not have been in a long-term relationship, Michelle having moved onto the Proddy lad that she kept mentioning, but it didn't stop her from carrying residual feelings towards Johnny. She'd already quietly confessed to Clare that she hoped he would be safe fighting out on the front lines, who she was sure would be supportive once she told her the following day at church.
"He was a thick fuck…". She cried into Erin's shoulder. "… but he was a massive ride".
"Well, that's his obituary sorted…". Martin stated nonchalantly.
"Martin!"
Deirdre slapped his wrist to ensure that he understood that there was a time and a place, and that was not it. Acquiescing, he mouthed an apology to his daughter, who did not register it nor his insult towards the dead man regardless. The harsh realities of the war were hitting home for many young women across Britain and France, their fellas going off to fight the German menace and never coming home. She was fortunate that she wasn't some of the other women around, left pregnant and alone to bring a child up with little support as well as the snorts of those who were less understanding of the situation.
"Christ… I'm sorry". Michelle pulled back from her friend, wiping the tears away. "I… I didn't think I'd get myself so upset but… I cared about him… ye know".
"I know ye did Michelle". Erin put a hand over her friend's. "It's alright to be upset, isn't it Deirdre?"
Looking towards Michelle's mother, Erin found a warm smile waiting for her. Deirdre took great pleasure from watching the young Quinn girl comfort Michelle so warmly. She'd not always thought so highly of Erin, especially when it came to her pathetic attempts at poetry, but she knew she always cared for her Michelle. Having seen her in a new light since her relationship with James began, Deirdre's respect for Erin only grew.
"It's not love, as I was tryin' to tell ye before Erin turned up, Michelle".
"I… I know Mammy… it's just…".
"Ye know I'm still not happy about… that… but that doesn't mean I'm angry with ye for caring about Johnny. If anything, I'm happy that ye didn't just see him as someone to… ye know".
Martin wasn't quite as understanding as his wife but he held his tongue. That was the difference between him and Sean Devlin. He knew that if it was Clare who'd been caught with Johnny Kells, then Sean would have probably sent a thank you card to the Germans who'd killed him, with the offer of money a possibility too. Sometimes the best course of action was to take none, and he followed that route, allowing the other women in the house to deal with Michelle's upset whilst he watched on, attempting to be supportive where he could.
Coming to a natural pause in the conversation, Martin suggested that they move through to the living room. A sensible suggestion, it was seconded by his wife who gave him a peck on the cheek before following the girls through. Michelle and Erin took to the sofa, whilst the married couple stood in front of them. The odd sob still crept out of Michelle, as Erin rubbed her back gently to calm her down, the former being incredibly appreciative of the latter's kindness. It was somewhat unexpected to find Erin caring about anyone other than herself or James, but Michelle would not question it when it was making her feel a lot brighter and happier.
"Do… do ye know how it happened?"
Erin addressed the question to Michelle, but quickly turned to Martin and Deirdre for the answer. The immediate increase in muffled sobs confirmed that the answer certainly wouldn't be coming from her friend.
"The dumb bastard decided to walk out in front of a German Tank, thinking it would stop for him".
Deirdre glared daggers at her husband, who felt no shame in telling it how it was.
"It didn't".
Ran over and crushed beneath the tracks of a Panzer was a way that no man should have gone. Johnny Kells lacked brain cells though, that lack prompting him to believe that the Germans would surely stop if he stood in the way. They wouldn't run him over as that wasn't allowed in his head. Sadly, for him, when it came to certain Germans, all was fair in love and war.
"But ye know, as much as I despised him for what happened here, I wouldn't want to have seen him go like that".
Michelle perked up at her father's admittance that he took no pleasure from Johnny's passing. Though he thought little of him, Martin's conscience would not allow him to honestly enjoy hearing of the young lad's untimely death. He was after all, answering the call to fight, sacrificing his own life to try and stop the Germans. His version of stopping the threat might have been different to every other man's but he'd still gone out to France to try, something which Martin had not. Though he could be penalised in regards to his mental prowess, Johnny's bravery could not be questioned.
"Why don't we go out to the dance tonight?" Erin put the idea across to her friend, her arm coming to rest around Michelle's shoulders. "Besides, I need to find myself a dance partner without James".
"I'm not sure I'm up for a dance…". Michelle glumly replied.
"Fine. But the Michelle Mallon that I know and love would never pass up the chance to have a drink with her friends even if she wasn't dancin'".
Picking her head up, Michelle allowed herself to think about it. She didn't have any meetings scheduled with the Proddy fella, who, if she was being honest, was starting to lose his allure. He was a massive ride but there were other massive rides out there that she could attract. The initial thrill of breaking conventions was wearing off and most annoyingly, he was about as interesting as Colm when he opened his mouth. It wasn't a problem whilst they were having sex, but as soon as they were finished, he'd always want to talk about something, and she hated it. Even the now deceased Johnny, with his childish conversation that Anna could probably better, at least made her laugh. A drink would calm her down, she thought to herself, with Erin beside her to provide her with decent company as well as plenty of fella's that she could at least look at. Or touch… if she was feeling up to it.
"Aye… a drink sounds cracker".
"It does. Is that alright with ye Deirdre… Martin?" Erin asked on her friend's behalf.
A futile effort to fight back should they have disagreed, both nodded their approval at Erin taking Michelle out for the night. With at least one friend around, with Deirdre suspecting that Clare would probably be invited along too, she would be stopped from drinking herself senseless, which was a bonus in their eyes, as they wouldn't have to drag her out of bed to get her to church the next morning.
"If ye promise to bring her back in one piece, aye". Martin laughed.
"No promises". Erin cheekily giggled back.
A hearty laughter rippled throughout the room, even from the now cheered up Michelle. She would get a night out to lift her from the lowly place she'd crawled to on hearing of Johnny's death. To her side, Erin masked her own fears beneath the amusement from the answer she'd given to Martin. On another day, an even darker one, she could have been the one in Michelle's position. However, if James died, a thought she quickly shook off out of terror for it becoming true, then she knew her own upset would be far worse, not least because she truly loved him.
She just hoped it would never be him.
But in war, death could come to any man…