September 15, Battle of Britain!

Posted on Saturday, 4 July 1998

Author's Note: This date marks one of the greatest air battles in the history of aviation. Air Vice-Marshal Park knew that he had to get his boys up in the air again and again to meet the oncoming Luftwaffe but they were seriously underequipped and undermanned. However no one disappointed him this day.

September 15, 1940
Calais, France

Galland and his boys said good-bye to the safety of the French coast as they headed for London. Once again the fighters had the detestable role of playing nursemaid to the bombers. There were approximately 100 bombers and nearly 400 fighters escorting these stupid "furniture vans" to London. Hitler wanted today to be the greatest show of the Luftwaffe's strengths and Goering being the toady that he was obliged.

But there was a desperate need for this request. The English weather will only worsen during the month of September and be positively impossible to deal with for the German navy in the upcoming season. If the invasion doesn't happen now then Operation Sea Lion - the planned invasion of England will be canceled until the following Spring. By this time the Royal Navy will be rearmed and refreshed by the Americans. U-Boats or not the Royal Navy is not something that the Germans wanted to tackle with in their worst state much less when they're in their best form!

Suddenly the voice of his comrade and his fiercest competitor in the Luftwaffe crackled through Galland's radio. Werner Molders was leading his 51 to the battle and about as put out as Galland was. He knew that being tied down to escorting bombers was a dangerous affair for his fliers. The RAF will shoot anything that's not British including the German bombers. However the Luftwaffe couldn't do the same thing so they were already at a disadvantage. And whether Goering or what other idiots at the High Command thought, the RAF was far from over. They were tough, unbending and heroic to the point of suicidal bravery. Most of the German pilots have witnessed more than one burning RAF fighter plane ram an enemy bomber as its last act on earth. And every day they were getting tougher to deal with for whoever lived to fight another day, learned something from the day before.

Werner Molders already doubted the sanity of Goering. More than once did the man act in an outrageous manner and even though Molders worshiped his commanding officer he could not turn a blind eye towards Goering's more bizarre behavior. Werner Molders was the most admired and respected fighter pilot in the whole Luftwaffe. Thin, dark and handsome to a sin the man was deeply religious and practiced his Catholicism in spite of the ban. His words were carried around by the younger men like some manna so he rarely expressed any doubts about the Luftwaffe's chances in knocking the RAF. But today he was venting his frustrations at his more temperamental counterpart - Galland.

One thing that was comforting to both veterans was the fact that indeed all the best that Luftwaffe can throw at the English was rising this morning. Galland's Mickey Mouse emblem was mixed with Molder's Eagle, and with them was Major Taubel's black Ace of Spades. The Green Heart of Major Trautloft's 54th fighter group also rose from Pas de Calais joined by the Shark's Teeth of Zerostorer 76h. The bombers were no less impressive in number for Dorniers and Heinkels, one group marked with black sledgehammers of Oberst Fink's wing, rose like nightmares from all over France. One bomber pilot commented that he had no idea that the sky could hold so many planes. And they were all heading for London.

HQ of Sector 11, Uxbridge, England

It was 10:30 in the morning and Keith Park at Uxbridge (headquarters to all of Sector 11 fighter bases) was holding his staff meeting when suddenly Churchill greeted them. Totally taken back the PM had to calm the man down saying that both he and his wife were in the area by accident, so, well, is something happening? And if there wasn't, the PM would "sit in the car and do my homework." That was indeed a ridiculous thing to do to the PM so the man and his wife were promptly ushered to "The Hole." This poorly named site was the nerve center of the whole sector and was situated under a golf course. From here information was gathered from Dowding's Filter Room and the battle plans were made. Park gave a sharp sidelong glance at Churchill; the man had an unusual nose for sniffing out momentous occasions, so will today be one of those days?

Biggin Hill, England

Darcy had the luxury of finally shaving himself. It was almost two days ago when he had time to take a luxurious bath but today it seemed like too quiet a day for anything to happen. After a long shower he dressed his best and sat on the lawn chair underneath the lovely and clear English sky. He knew that such weather would guarantee couple of dogfights but he was in too good a mood to ponder on the undesirables today. Bingley joined him with his hair still damp from his own shower and Pyro ran to take his before the hot water ran out.

Since his accident Miss Bennet was definitely kinder towards himself. Their verbal duels were intensifying if anything but he felt freer and was able to respond with his own brand of wit. He saw the honest appreciation in those lovely eyes every time he gained a point which delighted him to no end. He never thought that women could be so clever without being cruel but he couldn't find a bone of fault within Miss Bennet save her family. And even they could be tolerated when she was sitting next to him as she did this morning for early breakfast. Bingley had been eating with her for a while now but Darcy did not ask to join until today. Between the two of them and Bingley playing the part of referee they argued about what was the better film, Wuthering Heights, starring that god of English stage and film Laurence Olivier or the swashbuckler film - The Four Feathers.

The Brontes won out at the end when Elizabeth was able to quote from the book some important phrases thus reestablishing the power of English literature over film. Darcy tossed in his towel with a smile, "Bronte for breakfast Miss Bennet you indeed have a solid stomach."

"Of course I do Lord Ace, I'm from the country and we wild women have the constitution to digest everything!"

Bingley burst out into laughter at that, "Wild women from the country I must say I like the sound of that." Elizabeth gave him a sound slap on the arm and Bingley cowered in mock pain. Pyro opened his bleary eyes, gave a definite and cynical snort then returned to his tea. He didn't like to be disturbed until after 9 and breakfast with these morning people gave him nausea.

"So Darcy can you outquote Miss Bennet here?" Bingley teased with wiggling eyebrows.

"I'm sure Lord Ace can quote some long-forgotten works of erudites or at least Shakespeare!" Stated Miss Bennet throwing him a challenging glance.

"Actually Wuthering Heights is one of my favorite works. I had the unfortunate luck being cast as Linton during my university days. The actor that played Heathcliff moaned and groaned everywhere and tormented everyone around him so much that I think our whole floor knew Heathcliff's lines by heart. I think...yes, 'I pray one prayer, I repeat it till my tongue stiffens - Catherine Earnshaw may you not rest as long as I am living! You say I killed you, haunt me then!...Be with me always take any form, drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss where I cannot find you!"

Lizzie stared at him, the man did indeed possess a fine voice. "It's a good thing you played Linton!" Everyone broke out into laughter then and Lord Ace had to blush at that criticism. Darcy smiled at the memory as Pyro came back wet hair flapping in the wind. Suddenly the phone rang and they knew the calm day was no more. It was HQ, they were on stand-by. Pyro was muttering a string of rotten terms. His wet hair would guarantee him frozen helmet and a cold once they reach the high altitudes. Drying the mop off furiously he finally chucked the towel over and put his gear in place. Strapped to their planes with the engines roaring the Lost Boys with other squadrons waited with impatience. Something was in the air, they knew it!

Uxbridge, England

Churchill had an unlit cigar in his mouth and was gnawing on it with passion. He was told that the air ventilation system here would not handle the cigar so the man had to keep it in his mouth unlit. He was watching the WAAF plotters place symbols of incoming German airplanes on the huge map. Every second the number was increasing until it was obvious to everyone that this was the Mother of All. 50, 60, 80, 100, 150, 200...

"There appears to be many aircrafts coming in." Stated the PM. The Kiwi turned to him

"There'll be someone to meet them." Park's voice was calm and reassuring not betraying the nervousness the man felt himself. Churchill nodded and watched as the numbers kept rising.

Biggin Hill, England

Darcy felt the ground slip from underneath him as his squadron was scrambled to meet the attack. Pyro was already doing a great rendition of Amazing Grace and Bingley inanely chatted about Jane's lovely eyes. Heaven help any German intelligence officer listening to them now. For the fool would be so confused...

"Oh my G-d Darcy look!" Shouted James, Pyro's new wingman. And they turned to the small dots.

"Where the hell do we start?" Asked Bingley in shock and wonder. They have never seen so many German bombers and fighters, even in France they never came in these numbers.

"From the top gentlemen, angel 2."

The Spitfires responded beautifully by gaining the advantage of height over their enemies. The whole squadron knew that this day was The Day. And every fighter pilot felt huge emotions roar through them. Darcy being the Squadron Leader had to say something appropriate as they were getting ready, "For G-d, For King, For Country, gentlemen, let every man do his duty!"

"For Vivian too!" Chirped flying officer Jason. Vivian was the beautiful daughter of Lieutenant Henley and who was now the belle of Biggin. The laughter that followed broke the tension but Darcy's old words were embedded in their minds. Darcy was able to gaze down below and see London and its surrounding neighborhoods. That is England he thought, and that is what we must guard and protect!

The Spitfires roared downwards their guns blazing at the bombers. The Dorniers could not respond properly and three exploded in mid-air. The Spitfires ripped through the formation still diving and the MEs followed them knowing that in a dive they had the advantage but these Spitfires began to do those damn acrobatics that the MEs could not possibly follow. So the particular advantage was lost as soon as it was gained.

Joining Darcy to meet the Luftwaffe was every single squadron from Sector 11. As Churchill watched in awe and apprehension every single plane that was available joined in the fray by noon. The Poles and the Czechs driven from their homeland and bloodthirsty for revenge took particular enjoyment in the dogfights. They knew that this day was the day that would decide all and by heaven and hell either England would win or they would be buried! They would not touch earth until the Germans were driven from this island, their last sanctuary and their imprisoned nations' last hope.

London, England

There were clouds over London so only few ever witnessed this most historical air war, but the few that did will never forget.

Rachel had taken her chair from the store and set it outside the looking at the sky. She knew that every single white streak represented a plane. And by the looks of it there must be hundreds...oh dear L-rd, this is it. Tears glistened behind her strong eyes and finally they broke through her reserve. Those boys are fighting for our very existence. She then saw other onlookers and their faces reflected her thoughts. And more than one were crying.

Caroline stared at the same scene from the balcony. And for one moment she forgot all about herself as she realized that her only brother was up there somewhere. That tiny explosion of black, was that his plane? Oh please Charles, be careful, be careful. She crumpled onto her knees and began to weep in earnest. The war finally reached her too.

Anne and her people were in the yard watching the big blue becoming whiter and whiter by the contrails. She was amazed that the planes could even be that acrobatic! And the trails were increasing in number at an incredible rate. Dr. Hanson slowly put his arm around her shoulders, "Our Father, Who art in Heaven Hallowed be Thy Name..." His voice was joined by the rest as they stared unflinchingly at the sky. Suddenly an explosion shook them from far away. Buckingham Palace has become the latest casualty of war. Another bomb landed unexploded in its lawn and Spring was on his merry way. Throughout the drive he stared at the sky, "Go you glory boys go!" He shouted through the window and to the heavens.

And indeed they were going and coming and going. Darcy spent all his fuel and landed in Biggin to refuel, drink tea in his cockpit then return to the dogfights but there was a lull and by 12:30 PM there were no more incoming raids. That was because the Germans were getting ready for their second sweep.

14,000 feet in the air over London

By 1:00 Darcy was in the air again and hoped that Lizzie got his note. He sent to her the airwave that she could drop in and listen to his squadron. It was only his pride that did this but he also felt the historical significance and wanted Lizzie to share with him this moment. Lizzie did get his note and was frantically adjusting the dials to her receiver until she heard Bingley's voice, "Jesus this is dangerous!" But the man's voice was filled with his usual gleefulness and less-than-sane sense of fun. She recognized Pyro's whistling too then Darcy gave his cry, "Tally Ho!" Actually they were already engaged with the enemy, it was just that another Luftwaffe squadron joined in and now Darcy and his boys had to deal with two enemy groups.

Suddenly a ME ripped Pyro's plane apart and he saw the fire on his wing, then on the body of his plane. He tried to open the cockpit door but it was jammed! James his wingman dove to cover the officer but the man wouldn't eject from the burning plane. Then he realized that Pyro was trapped and couldn't escape. Pyro turned his plane, oh well; at least I'll take a Heinkel with me! Feeling the heat lick his back the fighter pilot that survived France saw the unfortunate bomber and smiled. Give a wave, say hello and let's go meet our Maker! By the way you Jerrys you folks are in whole lot of trouble with St. Peter... suddenly the cockpit ripped open finally giving way and Pyro was sucked out violently just two seconds before his flaming Spitfire smashed into the bomber. No one saw him escape and his squadron mourned by getting angry and attacking the Germans like hornets.

Pyro felt the chute open as he drifted down. Out of sheer curiosity he tried to count the number of chutes that were open. He grinned; man we could make a division right here! He saw a German pilot floating down too and feeling sorry for the fellow he gave a wave and a thumbs-up. The man responded by giving him the bird. Pyro had to laugh, oh I'm not the one that's going to get (#*%$ed when we hit the ground buddy!

Uxbridge, England

The map was now covered with enemy and friendly aircraft. Churchill finally asked the questions, "What other reserves have we?"

"There are none." Answered the New Zealander and Churchill felt the anguish that the Kiwi was silently labouring under Oh G-d that was what that French General said 4 months ago...please let this Park know what he's doing...

19,000 Feet Over London, England

Darcy's wingmen were now single fighters as they busily attacked the bombers, dodging the MEs and frustrating every German pilot. These were suppose to be the last 50 Spitfires thought one bomber pilot with ire. Goering was going to pay for this stupid attack! Like some Greek monster it seemed to the Germans for every single RAF plane that was shot down, two rose in its place. The RAFs were in fact almost 200 men under strength but they fought like they were over 2000. More than one pilot made the decision to ram an enemy bomber and this caused some fear among the Germans. To deal with enemy fighters was one thing but to deal with men willing to die by ramming them was another.

In fact the air was indeed filled with more RAF pilots than in the morning. Those who missed the earlier clashes wanted some for themselves and were looking to make up for this most undeserved deprivation! Insanity ruled the skies more than anything and Lady Luck was very fickle on who she threw her favors to but this much was plain, the RAFs were more than 50 and nowhere near their last dying breath. In fact the Luftwaffe engaged in 1300 sorties with the RAF but they were still coming with claws and teeth bared. And to the despairing Papa Molders and Galland, the Brits were coming in countless numbers.

Biggin Hill, England

It was almost 8:30 when Darcy finally invited his men into his quarters. They oohed and ahhed at the display of gourmet food and fine wine. There was ham, some kind of scrumptious meat pie and even real butter for white bread no less! Darcy pulled every string his rich pockets had to make this sumptuour repast available for his men. He wanted to congratulate them on their fine display this day and to celebrate a great victory over the enemy. But they felt the absence of their beloved bard Pyro even as the wine was passed. Lizzie stared at Darcy with look of kindness. She knew that the trio was a tightly knit group of veterans and even if Darcy didn't show it the loss was keenly felt on his person. Bingley frowned and said "Hush, do you hear that?" Darcy raised his ear but could catch nothing. Just the frantic noises of the ground crew attending to the worn fighter planes.

Jason said, "Yes, that...I think it's Laura? What..." Everyone in the room simultaneously recognized the whistler if not his tune.

The door opened as Pyro walked in, "Sorry I'm late but I couldn't for the life of me hitch a ride back..." Bingley's embrace cut the man's story short and soon Pyro was surrounded and buried by his fellow mates. Lizzie began to laugh in earnest; this was a good day.

No One So Proper, So Capable As Anne...

Posted on Monday, 6 July 1998

November, 1940
New York City, U.S.A.

Carolyn was putting on the last touches on her makeup as she was getting prepped to take the stage in the hot spot of 42nd – The City Lights Club. A small and elegant place it played on the ambiance of days long gone by. She was making decent money in CBS but needed to supplement her income in order to survive in this city. And the City Lights Club is where young and aspiring singers get discovered. More than one famous chanteuse was discovered in this place and Carolyn was determined to get a record deal.

The lights dimmed as she stepped on the stage. Her green dress shimmered delicately under the stage lights as the orchestra began its usual tune. She sang Sammy Kain's well-known and beloved works. The first was "I Can Dream Can't I?" But the next was the one she was quickly becoming well known for. The trombone began its mournful tune and she began to croon her voice dropping into a husky timbre:

I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day and through
In that small cafe
The park across the way
The children carrousel
The chestnut trees
The wishing well

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way

I'll find in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way

I'll find in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you

Ernie smiled and looked at his boss. "See I told you the girl had a voice. That tune is two years old but it's making a revival around here because of her. Look at them, they're really listening to her sing. What d'ya think?"

Mr. Jefferson, one of the talent scouts for CBS was impressed. Ernie told him about this lady two weeks back and he did some research on her. She was working for them already and had a great reputation as a very dependable and solid back-up singer in the variety shows. It wasn't until today that he came to hear her as a solo artist and she was great! Taking a deep breath on his expensive cigar the man gave a slow nod and said, "Yeah, she's got something alright. Make sure she gets an appointment with me tomorrow and we'll see if we can up her a notch on the show. And if she holds out and that voice ain't fake, we'll see about a record deal. Good catch Ernie!" The younger man smiled and the two relaxed to hear her finish her repertoire.

Oxford, England

"Frederick!" Sophy cried out loud as she saw her brother get off the train. He smiled as she ran to him and embraced her fiercely. He had a beard now and about twenty years worth of grays on that once dark head. She saw the exhaustion lined around his eyes and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. "Oh my dear Frederick. I am so glad that you finally came ashore. Where…oh hello Lij!" The Dutch officer looked young and sparkly as ever. Not a hair was out of place and his uniform was immaculate.

"That chap is shaming me you know Sophy. We meet U-Boats on an alarming basis and he doesn't crack a sweat while I, the captain of the ship usually has to change shirts every 5 minutes. Tell him to stop being so calm and join rest of us mortals."

"Captain, I'm Dutch. We cannot panic about the water. If we did our country would be definitely below the ocean as we speak. And as to the German U-Boats well we have two to our name so no I must refuse your request. Hello Mrs. Croft, the admiral sends his compliments." Sophy laughed at the youthful officer's most proper behavior and Frederick cracked a smile too.

She drove them to her flat and refused to let them find another place to stay.

"So how are the Musgroves, as noisy and gossipy as ever?" Asked Frederick in an off-handed voice.

Sophy paused for a bit and decided to tackle his probing head on. "Yes they are doing well. Both Louisa and Henrietta belong to the local relief group. They are doing an admirable job I must say. Mary is as sick as ever and Charles is more patient since Anne is gone. She never returned from that trip she took back in September. Her family is furious because they want her to leave London but she refuses to budge. We are at our wit's end you know. Every day Mary is expecting a call from the War Department telling her that her sister is dead, but so far no such evil news. However the girl was bombed out of no less than two flats. She's now staying with some friends and hopes to come home at least for a visit. She was suppose to come down two weeks ago but canceled at the last minute."

Frederick was very pale; "She's in London? But that's suicidal! I thought she was transferred here to avoid that exact situation! Why in the name of good G-d is the War Department making their people work under such circumstances, and when can they work? Between dodging bombs and putting out fires? Charles should've gone there and brought her home! What is that man waiting for? A telegram notifying him to pick up her coffin?"

Lij was pale too; this was not the news he was hoping to hear. "Charles tried Frederick but the man never got through the front gate. The security refused to let him in and would not tell Anne that he was about. And since he didn't know where she was staying he had to leave. They got a call from her that night apologizing profusely but she was very firm about staying in London. Even Lady Russell couldn't budge her and heaven knows if she couldn't convince Anne then no one can."

Frederick's lips thinned. How true, if that woman couldn't move Anne than no one could. Sighing a little he closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep. When they reached her flat hot food and bath was waiting for the two men. Lij had no need for the latter so Frederick hogged the tub for at least an hour feeling his toes uncurl from days of straining to hold onto the slippery deck of his ship. Lij slipped telling Sophy about the two U-Boats. But Sophy knew better than to repeat the information to anyone. After dressing himself in his finest he joined the rest of the group as they took tea. She had soothing Haydn in the background knowing that both officers needed to relax and let the strains of the last two months go by. They only had another 10-day rest and then she probably won't see them until after the New Year. Sophy knew that Donitz's Wolf Packs were causing havoc in the Atlantic and the Channel and that the Royal Navy was paying a very heavy price.

The group had a private supper together before they dropped by the Musgroves for a visit. Louisa shined when she saw Frederick but then turned pale as he took of his hat. His hair was peppered gray and no longer the luxurious black wave that she came to admire and love. He saw her pause and had to smile in irony. How I've changed! But the group became intimate again in the hour and Louisa once more felt her heart flutter at Frederick's voice. It was almost 9 when the doorbell rang and Henrietta ran to answer it. A young gentleman entered looking surprised at the new guests.

"This is Charles Hayter, a good friend and a cousin of ours. He'll be starting the term this winter. Charles, this is Captain Wentworth and Lieutenant Lij that we told you so much about." Henrietta's introduction seemed to make the young gentleman even more uncomfortable than before, and the young man remained silent for the rest of the night.

However Mary was far from quiet and she regaled the Navy about all the going-ons they missed. She told about the bravery of the RAF and the great endurance that all of Britain was showing regarding the Luftwaffe and their constant bombings. "OH How I wish that Anne came home! I swear I cannot get any rest thinking about her staying in London! Why every day the wireless tells us such horrible news about the capital. I swear that I would be indeed surprised if there was a building left standing! Even the Palace was bombed you know. My nerves can't take much more of this! Captain could you not convince her to come back and give us all a peace of mind? I'm sure she holds you in high regard and you might be able to succeed where we could not!"

Frederick shook his head, "I'm afraid I do not hold sway in her opinions nor her actions. If I could convince her to act otherwise, then trust me, I would do so in a minute…"

"Well at least you can try Frederick, the phone's right there so call her at work. I'm sure she's still there." Lij offered his opinion and was blessed with a lethal glance from his commanding officer.

Two minutes later Frederick found himself dialing London, "2247 May I ask who is calling?"

"This is Captain Frederick Wentworth and I am looking for Miss Anne Elliot, I was…"

"Oh I am sorry sir but she just left the office to go to Oxford and visit her relatives for a few days. May I ask her to call you?"

"No that will not be necessary, thank you." He hung up the phone and gave a huge sigh of relief. He turned to the watching crowd. "Anne is coming already. It seems that she missed us more than we thought she did."

The crowd brightened quite a bit at that bit of news. Frederick and his group retired around 10. It was almost midnight when Anne keyed into the place. Louisa was waiting up for her and greeted the tired and worn woman with a fierce hug. "Anne, please sit down, here I'll warm up some tea. Henrietta is preparing your room. Oh Anne we missed you so!"

Anne gave a smile and kissed the girl on the forehead, "And I missed you sweet things so much! London doesn't do well for my nerves. How are you? And did the Captain and Lieutenant Lij arrive safely?" Anne wasn't going to admit it but one of the reasons she came back was to see Frederick. Being a Boffin for the Royal Navy she was very close to inside information and every bit of news was horrific. She just had to see for herself that Frederick was fine.

"Oh Frederick has changed Anne! He's gone gray on the temples but Officer Lij is sarcastic and mysterious as ever!"

Anne laughed at the description and Henrietta came downstairs when she heard the laughter. The three women talked and discussed until Anne literally fell asleep on her chair. Louisa and Henrietta carried her to her bed and tucked the woman in. The morning arrived and Anne was greeted with the usual chaos of the Musgrove household. And she welcomed every bit of cry and shout with open arms. It was such a change from the mind-numbing bombings and screams of fire engines! The clock struck noon when she heard the familiar footsteps of the Wentworth clan. Sophy came rushing in and gave Anne a fierce hug. "I am so glad that you finally decided to come back to us for good I hope?"

"No Sophy, I wish it was so, but I must return in a week. However I am totally free of any work and burden until then and that is good. Captain how are you?"

Frederick was ill prepared for this outright greeting, "I am doing well but I hear that you are homeless yet again."

She smiled, "It's no trouble really I basically live in my office anyway. But hopefully I will find a place soon. Lieutenant are you well?"

Lij just gave a crooked smile and said, "It takes more than a few Stukas and torpedoes to put me out of commission Miss Elliot."

Anne gave the youthful officer a firm grasp on his hand and the group settled into the parlor to enjoy the unusually warm sun and the laughter of children. Charles Hayter joined them a little later but once again he felt the lack of his own character against the Navy men and soon fell into dismal silence. Even Anne could not coax him out of his melancholy and the young man left soon. Henrietta was annoyed at Charles' petulant behavior and treated him with some asperity. Anne winced a little at Henrietta's words; sometimes youth can be so blind to other people's pains!

The group decided to take a brisk walk in the sunshine before the sun faded away once again. Anne was talking to Sophy entertaining her with stories of the courage and bravery she witnessed everyday in London. Frederick was not far behind and listened with extreme care. He heard reports on how half of London was either burned or blasted to dust yet here was Anne! She was a lot stronger than he suspected and was rather taken back about how casual her words were. Somehow she has gotten used to the daily night raids and the terrors that the German bombers rained down every single night.

Louisa was dashing ahead of them pointing out some lovely sights and architectural landmarks. She saw old and steep steps leading towards a locked door to the University. She climbed them rapidly and almost slipped falling off the steps.

"Louisa! Please be careful! The steps are slippery from the rain." Shouted Charles but Louisa paid no heed. She ran down the steps at even faster pace to the exasperation of everyone.

"Louisa stop." Asked Frederick but she laughed at him in her innocent pleasure.

"Then you must catch me Frederick!"

He shook his head and she made a mad dash up the steps, "Louisa! The steps are…" He never finished the sentence. She slipped once again but this time purchased no grasp save empty air. She fell over and hit the sidewalk with a sickening thud.

The group reacted at once but it was Anne that was in the lead running to reach the silenced and broken sparrow. "Louisa!" She screamed and fell to her knees. "Don't touch her don't touch her! Her neck could be broken. Call for an ambulance Charles! The corner store there, they must have a phone! Lij your coat she mustn't lose heat! Quickly!" Lij took off his navy coat and Anne gingerly placed it over the unconscious girl. She took her mirror and placed it under the girl's nose. "She's breathing still, that's good. Where is that ambulance?!" Frederick also placed his coat over the girl. "Frederick! Henrietta! Go to each end of the street and see if that ambulance is coming! They might miss this street. G-d knows this is Oxford!" The two responded by taking off to the ends of the street. Mary was crying hysterically on Sophy's shoulders. Anne quietly talked to the unconscious girl constantly until Henrietta saw the ambulance and flagged it down.

Two hours later the news wasn't any better. Louisa was unconscious. Her neck wasn't broken but she suffered from concussions and was unable to gain consciousness. Mary was sitting in the chair becoming more hysterical until the medical staff gave something to calm her down. Charles was totally lost and Henrietta became totally mute. Anne was on the phone for a while then returned to the solemn group, "I called a friend of mine from the University. He is a good surgeon, one of the best we ever had. If Louisa needs surgery he will be performing it and I for one will feel lot better that he will be doing it."

Charles looked at her, "Thank you Anne, thank you for everything." Anne smiled bravely and hugged her brother-in-law tightly.

Lij ordered a cab for the group to finally return home. Before they left Anne spotted her friend, Dr. Doher, an émigré from Austria coming down the hall like a bull. Short and stocky he gave the air of a man who didn't like his time wasted. The two discussed in quiet and Doher ended the talk with a firm nod. "I do not profess to know what is wrong with the girl, ladies and gentlemen, but if there is something I can do I will do it." With that simple and terse sentence the man left the group.

"Good G-d Anne the man's German!" Screeched Mary.

"He's Austrian, Mary, and the only reason he's here was because he somehow managed to hike over the Alps with his family when Hitler entered in '38. He is one of the many that were on the Arrest List so I suggest you stop insulting my friend." Anne ended the sentence with her eyes ablaze and Mary hushed immediately.

The group finally did return home and managed to eat something. Sophy offered to stay but Anne refused the kind gesture. The phone rang and Henrietta bolted like an animal to get it. She held the receiver; "The doctor found a hemorrhage from the fall. He's in the theater now and says to pray, everyone."

Anne smiled, "Doher's sense of humor is a bit strange but that means he's doing well with Louisa!" Anne's happiness was indeed real and everyone fed off from it.

Frederick sat quietly in the corner and stared at Anne. How she stood strong and unerring while everyone around her faltered. There is Anne that he knew and admired! While everyone was acting scattered and confused she had enough sense to call this eminent surgeon friend to come and take care of Louisa. While everyone was weeping and rushing about Anne knew to cover Louisa and keep the girl warm from the cold November air. There is Anne. Simple, kind, unfaltering Anne. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of air. He had to talk to her tonight. Heaven knows when he'll get another chance.

"Anne," he called out her name and that voice held such power and warmth that everyone turned to him. Anne froze in her position. Frederick, please do not call my name using that voice, I am so close to breaking into tears… She turned to face him. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears as the two faced each other. He gave a gentle smile, "You will stay won't you now? I cannot imagine anyone more capable or so proper a caregiver than you."

She stared back at him, her head in an angle like a nightingale. Then she gently nodded her head. Mary was very upset, "But I am her relation surely I can…"

"Enough Mary. Thank you Anne. Please everyone take some rest especially you gentlemen. I am sure this is more excitement than you bargained for." Apologized Charles with total sincerity but the guests would have none of it.

The next day Louisa woke up from her coma and managed a sentence or two. Anne sat next to her and talked to her in the softest voice possible and continued to do so even when the patient was asleep. The group had a late supper when the phone rang. Mary picked it up and then looked at Anne. Her face was covered with annoyance. "Anne, it's for you."

Anne stood there almost unwilling to pick up the receiver but she did it. It was Richard. "Anne! Come back I think we might have broken the Enigma! Please hurry!"

"Yes Richard I'll be there. I will take the next train in."

Frederick almost ripped the phone out of her hands, this cannot be happening! Anne cannot go back to that hellhole and abandon her family when they need her so. But of course she did.

"I'm sorry everyone but I'm being called back. If I could stay, I would in a moment, but this…"

"Is this really necessary Anne?" Questioned Charles.

She nodded slowly and painfully. How she would like to explain what she was doing and the importance of her work but she knew she could say nothing. She turned to look at Frederick and saw his face. It was the same look he wore when she refused him so long ago, and again the same veil of hardness and anger came down covering those beautiful eyes.

She ran upstairs and packed quickly as she could, she couldn't stay here! It was so stupid of her to come back in the first place. She must never ever see Frederick again. That moment of heaven costed too dear for someone as impoverished as Anne. She came downstairs in minutes and said good-bye to everyone, but Frederick was nowhere to be found. She stepped outside and saw him sitting in Sophy's car. "Since your presence is so necessary in London I will drive you there Miss Elliot."

The woman was so shattered by everything that happened that she could not refuse. She sat in the car as far away from Frederick as possible. And the two sped into the darkness towards the fiery glow of the burning city. His mouth was pressed in a firm and hateful line, "Richard must need you badly to call you in the middle of the night." He got no answer so he turned around. She cried herself to sleep. Frederick turned his head towards the road again but not before he wiped the tears off her face.

This cannot be easy for her, he thought. She must hate doing this to everyone, yet she does it time and time again. Why? What power does this man have over her? He was silently musing this until he saw the hellish glow of London. He nearly turned his car back when he saw the city on fire. Oh my G-d…Anne you cannot stay here!

But the sound of the bombs, the sirens and the antiaircraft guns woke her up. She gave him directions to a silent corner on the outskirts of the city. But even in this relatively safe neighborhood one could not miss the death and destruction of the capital. They pulled up in front of a lovely old Victorian house. Anne unloaded her bags by herself and said her farewell, "Thank you Frederick."

"Is this where you're staying?" he asked with some curiosity.

She nodded still sleepy from the ride. "Tell my family that I will call them tomorrow."

He was about to get out of the car to escort her when the front door opened. He could not see the person because the light was behind the figure but he recognized the shape of a cane. With sheer fury Wentworth drove his sister's car out of the street. Of course she wouldn't give her family her friend's phone number. How could she? Since her friend was no other than Doctor Hanson!

Hanson heard the screeching tires but gave no thought to it as Anne came in. "Thank you Anne for coming so quickly. I want to introduce you to someone from the War Department. Anne, this is Colonel Elliot. I believe you know each other." She entered the library and saw the man she bumped into months ago.

The man flashed a beautiful smile, "Hello Miss Elliot."

An Early Christmas Gift...

Posted on Wednesday, 8 July 1998

December 5, 1940
Biggin Hill, England

Lizzie was furiously stomping her feet as she ran from her quarters to the Administration Building. Regretting that she didn't put on her warm boots, the woman made even a faster dash to the front entrance. She swung open the glass door and unceremoniously knocked the person on the other side of the glass flat on his elegant nose. Wincing as she heard the physical contact between man and material Lizzie asked in a regretful voice, "Are you alright sir?" The man was teary eyed but looked more amused than anguished. Giving a nod he smiled brilliantly and for a moment Lizzie was indeed dazzled by the smile.

"I'm WAAF officer and linguist Elizabeth Bennet. Can I get some ice for you or at least some packed snow…"

"It's fine Miss Bennet. Let me introduce my sorry self, I am George Wickham, Assistant to the Undersecretary for Supplies. How are you doing on this wet and miserable day?"

She immediately noted the elegantly cut suit and the beautiful school ring resting on his small finger. Oh my, so this is what the Rolls Royce was delivering earlier. Tall and thin he reminded the romantic woman very much of Leslie Howard. But even that actor didn't have this man's sky-blue eyes!

Feeling his nose to be in a tolerable shape he held the door open and let her into the cold building. Seeing her shiver he quickly noted, "Let me guess more gas for the buildings right? I've already noted that in my list I can assure you not to mention couple of other hundred things. We could at least keep our Few from freezing their limbs off. Won't do to have pilots battling colds while Goering is lurking about!"

Lizzie smiled at his comical voice and face as he belittled the dire situation. The bombings haven't let up in their intensity and London was almost in ruins. Only Heaven knows how the civilians were doing amongst the shattered buildings and cold nights. But Wickham knew how to turn words and phrases to match his wit and this woman with her lovely eyes and desirable curves definitely deserved some consideration. "Well Miss or officer Bennet would you mind giving me a tour of the base? I've just come out from one incredibly long meeting and my legs are screaming for some exercise." She nodded quickly and he thanked her. "Here's my coat, take it please."

Slightly blushing she took his cashmere coat and snuggled into it. Clean and fine scent, she thought as she caught a whiff of his cologne in the fabric. She led the man through the hangars chatting up the engineers and the mechanics. They in turn informed the Assistant what was so lacking with their supplies and fuel. Wickham assiduously noted it all down on his notepad and asked even more pointed questions. Lizzie stood and admired the man, why Whitehall must care a great deal more than they let on if they sent a man such as this one to find out the supply situations. Feeling brave she even led him to the mess and let the cooks wail all over the poor man. No sugar, such horrible flour and pepper...how could they cook without pepper? The tea was horrible, too thin to serve to the fighter pilots! The complaint went on for full ten minutes before Lizzie and Wickham got away.

He came out of the building, gave Lizzie a knowing look and shook his head as if to clear it from the cries and diatribes he was forced to endure. She laughed out loud at his actions when she spotted two familiar figures coming down the same walk. "Bingley! Darcy! How are the two fighter pilots?"

The two men waved hello and Darcy increased his pace until he saw her companion. Suddenly the snow around him felt less cold than he did. Lizzie saw his immediate reaction and frowned. Darcy quietly excused himself then and left the group; Bingley followed him throwing a puzzled glance at Lizzie before running to catch up with the long-legged man.

"I'm sorry Mr. Wickham I don't know why Darcy was so rude..."

"I do, I do so don't worry about it. This whole thing started way before today Miss Bennet."

His voice held a bitter edge that she noticed, "Perhaps Mr. Wickham you could tell me..."

He stared at her very hard then nodded. "Please let's continue our walk and I shall tell you a sorry tale." The two entered HQ and he began, "Darcy and I grew up together in Pemberley, his ancestral estate. It's a gorgeous, magnificent place filled with history and life. I was the carekeeper's only son and Mr. Darcy, Fitzwilliam's father treated me like his own flesh and blood. Unfortunately Darcy took a huge disliking to me because of it and the emotion intensified as we grew older. His younger sister, though she favored my companionship in the beginning, soon turned away from me under her brother's influence. We went to Oxford together, you know, but I never finished my studies there. It was Mr. Darcy who supported my studies and arranged a scholarship program for me. My father passed away only months before I entered and the good man did this in memory of a humble servant. But in my third year Mr. Darcy died and Fitzwilliam immediately ceased to support my studies. It was too late in the semester for me to apply for a scholarship and I knew that there would be none for me."

Lizzie was pale with shock and bitter disappointment. "Are you sure Mr. Wickham? I mean I cannot see Darcy..."

"Darcy is by nature a very proud and arrogant man. His goodness can only be gotten if you do not present a threat to him. If you are in any way a rival or competition he will stop at nothing to ensure your immediate removal. How do you think he's become an Ace? I apologize, this is more than you need to hear and more than..."

"No, please continue. I must hear this for that young man who was with Darcy is quite a good friend of mine and my sister."

Wickham nodded solemnly and continued, "I had to rest that semester but managed to finish my studies in University of Basel with some financial aid and scholarships. A feat that totally surprised Mr. or should I say Squadron Leader Darcy? Well I ended up in the government and I haven't seen him since our Oxford days until now. However he is very famous around our office and I've been keeping up on his career. Can hardly avoid it when it's written all over the columns!"

Lizzie tried to digest this ugly bit of information and felt physically ill. Darcy was proud, he was also arrogant but she never saw a malicious streak in that reserved man until now.

Wickham saw her waver and quietly added, "Do you know why they've taken him off from the Factory Tours?"

She raised her head, "Yes, I thought it was because he had too much to do."

Slightly angling his elegant head he asked her, "Too busy to visit factory workers who slave twelve hours a day, six days a week? No Miss Bennet you have more intelligence than that."

Her eyes reflected her despair as he parted even more ugly news; "Even Squadron Leader Townsend without his toe and hobbling with a cane spends every spare moment visiting the workers. They took Darcy off because he was so brutally reserved and callous to the workers. You see he is the sole owner of Sparta Inc."

Her eyes opened wide, "The munitions factories?"

He nodded, "And the steel company Valelink that's located in the United States and the oil company Hart also in the United States. If he weren't a fighter pilot I'd brand him as a profiteer. But I believe that he does indeed love this country or at least Pemberley. And he's one damn fine pilot which is what we need above all."

Ending deliberately on that positive note the negative impact of all his information grew even bigger for Lizzie as she sat there shocked. How much money was Darcy making off from this war? How much blood and tears were shed to line his fine pockets? Her anger reached new heights as she remembered the horrible stories she heard about those shameless profiteers. Wickham quietly watched her anger rise and smiled to himself. How he loved naïve women. Especially pretty ones like this one!

Lizzie snapped out of her reverie and apologized, "I am sorry to seem so rude but I was just surprised at the information you've just told me. Please don't think that you've done me disservice. I am very glad you told me so that my sister and I can keep our guard against the man. If you wish we can end the tour by going through some of the pilots' barracks." He nodded slowly and the two marched off to the building. He told her stories about Christmas holidays he spent in Pemberley and she regaled him with tales of chaos that ruled the Bennet household during the festive season. Soon the two were laughing companionably and the walk ended about half-hour later.

He closed his notepad but she saw the many written pages and wondered how many bases he's visited. "I was wondering Mr. Wickham are you by chance passing by Benton Hospital?" He gave a nod and she asked him a favor. "Could you deliver a package for me to my sister? You could leave it at the front desk and she could pick it up later but I really do…"

"Say no more, Miss Bennet. It would be my pleasure." Feeling thrilled by the warm smile and the gracious kindness Lizzie ran to her room and picked up the latest box her mother mailed to her. Unfortunately the woman addressed it to the wrong daughter and Lizzie was the beneficiary of some facial cream and cleanser. Why Jane would need such things Lizzie couldn't fathom but her mother was one of the Original Mysteries!

He took the wrapped package and gave a jaunty bow of farewell. She saw the car disappear from sight and wondered when she would see such a dashing man again. Sighing with great depression she thought, never, and returned to her boring job of eavesdropping on the Germans. So far she's heard two conversations regarding some stupid musical and one incredibly passionate exchange between a fighter pilot and a female base personnel. Well at least somebody has a social life, she thought with some irony and flipped the channel.

London, England

It took Wickham about 15 minutes before he saw the embattled hospital. He dropped the package off with care then left the place. About an hour later he was in his London office. With incredible precision he made copies of all the notes he has taken during his visits. The situation was indeed glum and probably getting gloomier as the U-boats were winning the war. Pressing his lips he mentally calculated out how much longer the British could hold before collapsing under the supply strain. That is if the Americans didn't interfere anymore than they did now.

Meesh was in her office when Wickham entered to drop off his notes. "Here they are, hope they help but they do indeed paint a nasty picture of our current situation."

Meesh gave a polite smile; she really didn't like this man though she could not explain why she felt such revulsion against Wickham. The man was charming, attentive and very intelligent but there was something underneath that façade, though she couldn't identify made her feel uneasy around him. She took his notes and thanked him for his hard work. The Assistant left her office and when the door closed his smile was gone. He didn't like her at all. She didn't trust him and he knew it. While all the men and most of the women treat him with great affection, that Meesh would not. In fact more than once he caught her sharp and suspicious gaze at his person. It could become a real problem for him if this war dragged on.

It was nearly nine at night when he left the office and went to a bar near East End. He would not be spotted by anyone from the office in an area like this. He saw his guest in the corner booth and sat down. "Hello John."

The man smiled back a little. Hauptmann Mahler really did like this man. They met while Wickham was studying in Switzerland and the German in no time convinced the Brit to join the Fuhrer's cause. The information George was able to smuggle out was invaluable and the man's career could only rise higher as he stayed in the War Department. Wickham handed him the copies of the reports and gave a faint smile, "I am sure this will be very appreciated by the recipient. In fact let's call it an early Christmas gift shall we?"

Mahler chuckled at that and pocketed the papers. Then Wickham quietly told him about the problem that was in the office. Mahler nodded sagely, "Don't worry George I am sure we can handle any personnel problem. Here have some whiskey; it's the best thing that this place offers." And the two men drank in comfortable silence. Mahler would indeed have no problems taking care of this Meesh person. He just mentally added her name to the two others that he was supposed to take out. HQ canceled Dr. Hanson and the mathematician Elliot earlier this morning. All he had to do now was receive the final orders to carry out his job.

The following website is crude I know but they have links to pictures and I think you would like to see some of the people I've been constantly mentioning throughout this tale.

pictures and brief histories of important figures in the Battle of Britain

One Cold Winter's Night...

Posted on Thursday, 9 July 1998

Ye Mariners of England,
That guard our native sea;
Whose flag has braved, a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze!
Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe!
And sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow;
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.

--Thomas Campbell
--Ye Mariners of England

Northern Scotland
December 24, 1940

Frederick was calling Sophy this Christmas Eve hoping to catch her before she left for some festivities but no luck, as she was not in her flat. He was docked off the northern coast of Scotland for this holy season, but was unable to take leave to see her or his brother Edward. He guessed correctly that she would be with the Musgroves and called there. The din in the Cottage was quite loud when Louisa answered the phone. "Frederick! My dear captain why aren't you here with us? Henrietta is making a total fool of herself and Charles in fairly on his way to becoming soused. Only Anne is sober but then she always is. SOPHY!" The girl cried out so loud that Lij could hear the summons from across the captain's temporary quarters.

He heard his sister talk to Louisa and grab the receiver, "Dear Frederick! How are you this fine Christmas Eve? I lit a candle for you during Evening Mass. Now wasn't that nice of me? Seriously though I sent you and that nice lieutenant a package about 10 days ago so you should be getting it soon. Louisa! That's for Anne and not you! Put it down girl and stop sticking out your tongue at me. Impudent child! Yes Lady Russell she is isn't she?" Frederick loved hearing the whole jovial background noise and music. The laughter was loud and genuine and totally opposite to the gloom that pervaded HMS Avalanche.

"Are you doing fine Frederick? You sound too tame for me to not be anxious."

"I am doing fine Sophy, tired and slightly exhausted but doing well. Lij is waving his hello. So the whole gang has massed there tonight?"

"Oh yes and we will have the pleasure of seeing the whole Elliot clan tomorrow when they come for a visit from Bath. Mary's in quite a tizzy, you know, about the whole thing. It seems that her father is the hard-to-please type. Anne is...she says hello, actually, and wants to wish you a jolly season. She has improved greatly since she came down from London last week. Why, I swear the girl is even eating meals now instead of absorbing her nutrition from the air. She has sent you a Christmas gift along with dozens of others from all of us. It's in that package, my dear, so I do hope you get it. Did you?"

Frederick was staring at the rather large brown parcel sitting on his bed, "Yes Sophy I did. And it's taking me every ounce of strength trying to prevent Lij from ripping apart the package. He's convinced that he has some long-wished for present in there. Do not ask me why the boy is labouring under such a delusion but he is." He turned just in time to see Lij stealthily creeping up to it. *SMACK*. The chastened officer sat back on the chair nursing a welted hand.

Sophy laughed out loud, "Yes Colonel Elliot, this is my loving brother calling to wish me a merry Christmas!"

Frederick froze on the spot. Colonel Elliot...the cousin was there? "Sophy, Colonel Elliot?"

"Oh yes Anne's cousin came down but yesterday to pay his respects. It seems that Anne bumped into him in London and ended up inviting the widower over for the holidays. The poor man's family was killed in Europe you know."

The last sentence was said in a conspiratorial whisper and Frederick winced at that bit of ugly news. "Poor chap, well then I'm glad he's not spending the holidays alone." *SMACK*. Lij yet again sat down now nursing his other welted hand. Frederick shook his head in mock disgust and put down the rolled newspaper on his desk.

"Come Anne say hello to my brother. He's deadly anxious to not end his call!"

Frederick blushed; sometimes he wondered if Sophy wasn't a mind reader. He heard the fumbling and then Anne's sweet voice, "Captain Wentworth are you doing well? It's blustery and miserable here as always. We all wish that you and the lieutenant were here today of all days. Can you hear the boys in the background? They're shouting their greetings to you."

"Yes indeed I can hear them, and so can Lij actually. How are you Miss Elliot?" He longed to use her first name but it seemed inappropriate somehow.

"I am doing better since I arrived. I finally found a flat for myself in London in spite of all the bombings. Dr. Hanson was kind enough to squeeze all of us into his house, but it was about time we moved out."

Frederick paused in wonder, "We?" He couldn't help but ask such a stupid question.

"Oh there were four of us who were bombed-out you know. And the kind man adopted all of us poor homeless birds until we found our own nests. The dear man was going quietly insane, I think, from all the noise in his house. Having four Boffins in your house meant that you never had any sleep, always out of coffee and tea. And worst of all the early edition was in the trash by seven in the morning." Frederick began to laugh at that description and the laugh soon turned into an uncontrollable expression of joy and relief.

He had totally miscalculated the relationship between Anne and Dr. Hanson. He was sure of it now, as he heard the genuine fondness for the man in Anne's voice. It was a voice of a woman not in love but in friendship. It was Anne that others knew, but he knew her better than most. After all did she not love him once? He saw Lij's puzzled expression and laughed even harder, "I apologize Miss Elliot, I think the days' strain has finally reached this old sailor. Well I'm sure Dr. Hanson must be regretting the silence now."

"Oh no, he went to Plymouth to visit his sisters. He has five you know."

"Five?" repeated Frederick in wonder, "Five sisters?"

Now it was Anne's turn to laugh at the sympathetic tone in Frederick's voice. "Yes and he loves them all or at least that's what he says. And here is Sophy again!"

"Anne!" He said a bit louder and he heard her pause, "I hope that your holidays are indeed cheerful affair. And please take care of yourself."

Anne felt tears rise at the genuine care in his voice, "I will take the same amount of care for myself as you do Captain." She swiftly handed the phone to Sophy who was watching the whole exchange with the eyes of a falcon. Smiling inwardly she took the receiver and continued to chat inanely for a while. Anne sat next to her cousin who was currently admiring an older photo of the three Elliot sisters. Anne blushed when she looked at it, how dowdy and frumpy she looked wedged between the ever-elegant Elizabeth and naturally pretty Mary. William saw the embarrassed glance Anne bestowed upon the photo and smiled inwardly. The woman had no idea that the famous Elliot beauty was evenly distributed out between all three of them and not just between Mary and Elizabeth.

He returned the picture to Mary and went to his coat to retrieve a small and finely wrapped present for Anne. He held it behind his back and sat next to her. "Anne, here this is for you."

Anne saw the crimson package and her face became filled with wonder. "Why William thank you! I had no idea…"

"No you weren't meant to. Please open it." She opened the box and openly gasped at the velvet box. Nestled perfectly in the black fabric was a hair comb made of ebony and inlaid with turquoise. The artwork was quite beautiful following the ever-cool and delicate lines of Art Deco. Mary and Charles exchanged knowing looks and Louisa grinned broadly. Only Sophy was alarmed, she wasn't expecting this at all, and it unnerved her. She didn't count on this elegant and attentive cousin to become a rival for Frederick. But while her brother's away this cat came to play…

Frederick finally let his junior officer open the package and soon the room was filled with flying bits of brown wrapping paper. There were two bundles neatly separated and wrapped, one marked Frederick, the other Lij, our adopted brother. The men opened up the package and smiled in their own delight. There was nothing so tender and wanting like offerings of love and care in the worst moments of one's lives. Lij crowed out loud as he pulled out a small book. Frederick frowned as he read the title. The words were Dutch so he had no idea what it was but the author was Dickens. Lij looked at his commanding officer and explained, "I've always been curious about this Christmas Carol thing you Brits talk about during this season. So I 'ahem' requested to Miss Elliot if she was in London perhaps she could find me a Dutch version of this story." The boy's grin was from ear to ear and Frederick laughed at the unrestrained glee.

He opened his package and saw the lovely wool sweater that Sophy promised him only weeks ago. Then he saw a small novel and opened it. It was Thomas Hardy and the front page had Anne's handwriting on it:

"Wishing you fair weather and safe journey so you can return to us once again, Frederick.
--Anne."

He lightly brushed his index finger over her name and quietly sighed. Far from the Madding Crowd, was the title and he knew what he was going to be doing for the next few nights. When the two first began their relationship Anne was constantly trying to improve his poorly educated soul with novels, poems, allegories and general sciences. She found him a neglectful student but he found her to be a great and patient teacher. They never really did improve his education because within minutes of the lessons they were digressing into other more intimate and interesting things. She never broke from that habit, he thought smiling softly, and it was a good thing.

Lij saw him in silent contemplation and for a moment felt tempted to speak his mind. The British are usually a knowing lot and fearless to boot but this man seemed to avoid the one topic that was constantly on his mind. Could he not see what he was doing to himself and to Miss Elliot? Lij was about to speak what was on tip of his tongue but decided against it. Too much too soon, let that present prey on Wentworth's mind for a while. Perhaps the man will come around without being told to. The younger officer happily returned to the novel and eagerly began on the journey with Scrooge. What the heck is a humbug?

London, England

Katto was so happy he could have skipped his way back to his place. After pulling the gun on the captain of HMS Avalanche, he was summarily thrown into navy prison pending trial. However all charges were finally dismissed and his record wiped clean, when Captain Wentworth refused to press any charges. His subordinates followed suit making any type of court hearing impossible. And it was obvious to Katto that the Royal Navy was just doing everything in form and nothing of substance. The last thing they wanted to do was attract more negative press regarding Mers-el-Kebir. And more than few of the tribunal members knew what this French tank commander felt as he saw his fellow Frenchmen die in those horrible waters.

They released him earlier this Christmas Eve and the free bird sought out his fellow French "rebels" as the Vichy now named them to celebrate this happy occasion. During dinner they all wondered how their fellow French were doing across the waters and more than one sent a silent prayer to G-d hoping that their families were fairing well.

Paris, France

The Gestapo came and wiped the university clean a few weeks ago, arresting most of the 'undesirables' in the teaching staff. One Jewish teacher was summarily shot in the courtyard to be made an example of and his body was left there for a whole day by their orders. But sometime during the night a brave soul covered the corpse with the French flag. Lisa-Michelle took a picture hidden from view and was determined to smuggle it to a Red Cross worker. The world has to know about this! They cannot continue to turn a blind eye towards what was happening not only in Paris but all of Europe. And the brutality was increasing on a daily basis with no end in sight.

Leah quietly worked on the radio transmitter. Andre had somehow gathered the parts together and the thing was almost complete but Leah needed to tweak it just a bit more. She finally received a letter from her mother two days ago and the girl was close to elation. It was such a relief to her that her mother was safe and sound. Neither knew that they were both working for the Resistance and managed to never talk about it in fear of endangering each other's lives. Leah felt the room shake as a German tank rolled over her head. She was working under the streets of Paris hidden in the drains. The capital was built on a labyrinth of tunnels, rivers, pipes and even small lakes. The Germans controlled the above-ground, though this bizarre and silent kingdom still belonged to the French. And the French were slowly building themselves fortresses down here hidden from the sun and the prying eyes of their enemies.

Calais, France

Marie heard the explosion of the Horche as it drove over the landmine. That messenger will never reach his destination, she mused harshly as she saw the flames shoot up from the car's shell. The order came only yesterday that the man in the now-destroyed car must be stopped at all costs. He was carrying a list of possible French insurrectionists currently living in London and the names of their families trapped in France. The original list was being smuggled out of the German HQ right now by even a braver soul than she. Alain waved to her signaling the approaching German patrol and the woman slowly and deftly melted into the forest. That was her fourth mark this month alone and her reputation was growing in the hidden halls of MI in the War Department. They had no idea who she was or what she was like; they just gave her orders and within days they would receive confirmation of it being carried out.

Marie later entered the local village and sat in the back pew of the church as Evening Mass was being performed; she hasn't totally forgotten what it was like before the Germans came.

St. Michelle, France

Marguerite hid the third downed British airmen inside her barn underneath the cows. She built that room many years ago in order to have extra storage space but nowadays it held something even more valuable. Tim gave his rescuer a grateful kiss and pulled the wool blankets over his blond head. Marguerite was one in a chain of "underground" stops that the Resistance used to smuggle downed Allied pilots back to England. The other two were in the main house underneath fake floors and walls. Old houses have many secrets, old souls even more. Marguerite was making herself some tea and celebrating the first Christmas by herself, when she heard the German patrol pull up in front of her house. She saw the SS insignia on their collars and felt fear trickle down but the fox knew better then to tremble in fear and give herself away. She quickly took out an onion from the icebox and took a deep sniff. Within seconds tears came pouring down and she quickly put back the useful vegetable. When she answered the door she just looked like the abandoned mother she made herself out to be. Thirty minutes later the SS left her totally disgusted and frustrated by the useless chase they were made to perform. This pathetic woman could not possibly hide anyone much less lie to them in the state she was in. Sometimes Headquarters could make such blundering mistakes…

Taking A Turn On The Floor...

Posted on Saturday, 11 July 1998

February 8, 1941
Biggin Hill, England

Darcy knew he should have interfered that cold December morning. He should not have marched away like some sulking child when he saw Wickham with Elizabeth, but stayed by her side vexing his worst and greatest rival. Instead he turned away only to later discover that whatever good opinion she had of him was lost in that space of one afternoon. She could never be impolite or rude but her laughter held an edge to it now. More than once he turned to see her gaze at him and the eyes held no tenderness only disdain and veiled contempt.

What did Wickham tell her and how did he accomplish so well in poisoning such a bright and lovely woman so completely? What lies did he whisper into that sweet ear, leaving Darcy out in a cold more painful than this most bitter month of February? After a while he could no longer accompany the troupe to Hart's Tavern and managed to excuse himself from the weekly routine. What was his only source of a comfortable evening was extinguished, and in those silent and self-imposed exiled Thursday nights Darcy would sit in his quarters and brood at his own folly and her weak character. He should have never underestimated Wickham. He did that once in Oxford and paid a dear price for it.

Darcy would turn out his bedroom light so when his two friends returned from the Tavern they would think him asleep. This was much easier than to deal with the happy and exuberant fliers. Bingley was now more than ever in love with the beautiful and forever haloed Miss Jane Bennet. That was another branch of worry for Darcy. As much as he tried to discern that sphinx's opinion of his best friend he could not find any evidence that she thought more of Bingley than a passing fancy. He knew of her solid and determined dedication to her vocation, because of the stories told by patients who were lucky enough to be in her care at Benton. But did that allow a life with a man like Bingley, a RAF pilot that could in any day never return from the sky? Did she ever really show any worries about Charles' situation? Even Elizabeth showed more care and fear for Charles during the Battle of Britain than Jane did. Darcy sighed into his hands. This was getting to be too much to deal with even for the strong and fearless Squadron Leader.

He should have never questioned about Jane's motives towards Bingley. She grew up in a household where the mother took particular care to express every vain and supercilious opinion to everyone within earshot. In that constant barrage of shameful and at times humiliating moments Jane learned to be silent. To be cautious with her words meant to be quiet and never speak unless spoken to first. She was not shy, just careful. While Elizabeth had the wit and the tongue to stop her mother, Jane practiced the art of silent reproach to control Mrs. Bennet. Darcy didn't know this; he couldn't have, so no one could fault him for his erroneous judgment of Miss Jane Bennet. However one could fault him for the act of judging itself.

Darcy heard his men go to bed and he silently disrobed, joining them. He wasn't quite sure what HQ was up to but Spring was coming and that meant another round of dance with the Luftwaffe. Somehow the idea of engaging in air war with the Germans was a relief to him. He fell asleep immediately, a feat long practiced since 1939 and woke up promptly at 5 without the aid of an alarm-clock; another habit long-established since the war began. After his shower and shave he read the weekly reports of the financial situations on his various holdings. He was one incredibly rich and powerful man. His only other living family member - Georgiana, evenly shared his wealth. But she was too young to take any control of the corporate holdings and she would never wish to. She had complete trust in her brother to take care of the financial situation of the Darcy legacy.

And indeed he did. By the time the war broke the Darcy legacy had nearly doubled from its initial value and the funds were distributed safely among many banks including Swiss and American. However since the war began the corporations had been making just enough to cover the overhead costs, bringing in almost zero sum to the Darcys. This was because Fitzwilliam planned it that way. England needed what he gave, but she could barely afford to pay the market price and he knew it. He met with the corporate boards one hellish weekend in December of 1939 and told them what he wanted to do. All the revenue that is necessary to keep the corporation going will continue. But any excess sum will not be forthcoming and that included the annual gain and percentage for the Darcys and any board members that held the company stocks.

He refused to blackmail his own country during this most serious time of crisis. Whatever England needed she would get. No questions asked, no excuses taken. And if Darcy ever discovered one man who would go against his grain, then the fool would be dismissed from post and be branded a profiteer. His voice held his usual cold disdain and backed up by no less than 3 Undersecretaries sitting behind him the board members and the managers had no choice but to agree. It was a bitter pill to swallow for the thickly waisted courtiers but to be forever named a profiteer was even worse a medication to swallow. And when Chamberlain stepped down to have the wardog Churchill take the helm, these pampered men were indeed glad to have sided with Darcy. Chamberlain and his group were despised afterwards for their peace treaties with Hitler during the 30's. The British realized that they were all fooled and made mockery of by the Germans, and their ire turned against the former PM and his men in the most vicious way possible. Ridiculed and dogged the men were driven from their posts into eternal obscurity.

Then Chamberlain became ill with cancer. His health deteriorating the photos of him slapped in the front pages were horrific in its slow but constant portrayal of this elegant man's downfall. Churchill in his shrewdness and some tender care addressed the House in November after Chamberlain's death. Darcy knew Neville Chamberlain intimately through his father and was forever grateful to Churchill for this act of mercy. The PM remembered Chamberlain as a man for peace, who always strove to bring justice and righteousness to this world. Could we blame him if an opponent who had no values, no sense of honor and no love of humanity cheated the man? England must remember Neville Chamberlain represented England of old; honorable, elegant, decent, hard striving and noble he was indeed an "English Worthy".

Darcy had tears in his eyes as the PM finished his speech with some sorrow and loss. An "English Worthy", that was what Darcy desired to be above all. To serve his nation and hold it against this great evil made more so by its perverted science and newly created religion of worshipping man above All. Darcy was from old bloodstock and was raised with many of its faults. But ingrained within that proud and arrogant man was also great passion for all that was English and good. When the call of war rose, he was already in the RAF and soon found himself in combat situations with his new wingman Bingley. With every fiber in his body and soul he hurled himself against the Nazis and the Wehrmacht. If that meant sacrificing the millions of pounds he would gain over the years, that would be more than acceptable to him. And hearing the call of battle he did everything in his power for the war effort, including risking his neck hour after hour, day after day. All this did not go unnoticed by Churchill either.

The man was shrewd, he did indeed admire Chamberlain but his speech had another purpose. For those in the English noble class who still wavered on the side of joining forces with Hitler found it very difficult to voice their opinion out loud after the November speech by Churchill. And the man threw them a lifeline back to joining the folds of the war party. Most, realizing by now the true character of the German government (after months of being bombed by the Luftwaffe and surviving the aftermath of Dunkirk), were only too glad to switch sides. Having someone like Darcy in his camp and making sure the talented and socially well-noted Squadron Leader was publicly appreciated by the PM personally, made this defection even more attractive to the stragglers of the noble class. And they came in droves, pushing their weight behind Churchill and using their far-flung influence for Britain's cause.

One of its greatest influences was Hollywood. Where their opinions of the current crisis in Europe soon turned the tide of thought against Germany most decidedly. Suddenly directors and actors who were silent in regard to Nazi Germany started to make films that were definitely unfavorable to Germany and its treatment of Europe. British actors like Olivier, Gielgud, Barrymores and other notables voiced their opinions, and did it with the great British aplomb and fire. Shakespeare was suddenly popular again as was Bronte and Austen. And the noble class, using its powerful influence over their American social counterparts, made sure their opinions were beneficial to the British cause. So great was this affect that Joseph Kennedy who disdainfully wrote off England earlier as a lost cause found himself somewhat ostracized by the blue bloods of Boston. In fact this would haunt him and his more famous children for years to come.

Darcy was one who held such influence in the business world. When the American corporate heads realized what he was doing, they could not but admire the man. They admired him even more when they saw his pictures as a RAF Ace who was credited with more than 5 kills. Silently they saw him as a hero, and heroes have voices that can be heard farther than the tirades of a madman. Quietly but surely the public and private opinion of the United States was slowly being turned to favor England, and the opinions of isolationists being held in more contempt with every Churchill speech; Hollywood film; CBS's broadcasting from London and Hitler's fits on the radio. The Few had more glamour than Hitler did with that bizarre moustache screaming in a language that most Americans could not begin to understand or care to learn.

The morning proceeded with its dullness, but Darcy felt some frisson of excitement in the air. Something was happening, and he wondered if it would affect his squadron. The day passed quietly enough and the evening came with the men hunkered down in the officer's mess playing the radio and enjoying each other's company. They were a tightly knit group now for they shared an experience like no other. Sprinkled among the group and against regulations were women whose friendship and companionship made life bearable. Lizzie was currently playing poker with Bingley, Pyro and Jason and from the looks of it robbing them blind. With another dazzling smile she placed her cards in the open and cheerfully cackling took the whole pot. Bingley gave up good-naturedly and Pyro folded too for the night.

Darcy couldn't help it, he had to break this ice that has formed between himself and Elizabeth somehow. He slid into the still warm seat that belonged to Charles and picked up the cards. "Blackjack?" He asked in his most cheerful of voices. Elizabeth sat there surprised and nodded in quick response more than a wish. Why does he want to play cards? He abhors cards, I know he does because he said it once. But if he did, his hands surely didn't know it as they deftly mixed the deck. The man swiftly dealt the cards and Lizzie was peering with a serious contemplation at her luck. After the first round she had none, her hand was 23. Giving a painful sigh she folded to his surprise. He had 20.

After 6 games he roundly beat her and won everything she gained from Pyro and Bingley. Darcy was frustrated out of his mind; beating Elizabeth at a card game was not the way he wanted the night to end but she was determined to win at least once and would not stop playing. "Miss Bennet perhaps Lady Luck is not with you today so shall we call it a night?" He offered most kindly and she had to agree, she had no winnings left to bet with. Suddenly the radio crackled and an American voice came on, "By request of our listeners we will be broadcasting the most popular compilation from across the Atlantic, and featured in this segment is Carolyn's I'll Be Seeing You. So stay tuned ladies and gentlemen."

Lizzie gave a great sigh as Charlotte gave her a large and prominent sympathetic glance. Darcy was puzzled by this exchange and asked, "Is this song popular? I thought the tune was rather old."

"Oh it is Squadron Leader but this version just hit London and I must say it is the most romantic thing I've ever heard." Explained Charlotte, and Lizzie once again gave an exaggerated romantic sigh laced with great humor.

Darcy did smile then and took courage, "Well then if it is so Miss Bennet would you now fulfill that promise you gave to me last year and take a spin on the floor?" Lizzie couldn't think of a reason to say no so she nodded. It was a very neat trap and she walked right into it!

The introduction was made to I'll Be Seeing You and the two took the floor with others. Charlotte stared at the couple. They were very handsome both dark and pale with regal bearing. She would envy Lizzie if she weren't endowed with so much common sense. And now that particular gift was ringing alarms for Charlotte. What she suspected was coming to pass right in front of her eyes. That very eligible and single bachelor Darcy had a thing for her best friend, and Charlotte welcomed it with open arms. Lizzie deserves a man like Darcy who could offer much.

Lizzie tried to keep a polite distance but the song did not lend itself to cold and calculated politeness. And it did feel nice to dance with Darcy, whom she noticed was a good dancer as he took the lead. So for a while Lizzie rested comfortably in Darcy's arms thinking nothing but the gentleness of their steps and the loveliness of the lyrics. While she was enjoying the dance Darcy was in hell. It became all too clear to him. His emotions regarding this woman went beyond infatuation or even good old desire. It was simple, somewhere between last July and today he lost his heart to this Miss Bennet. He didn't want to admit it because of all the consequences such admission would bring. The downfall of his family's good name; the obvious and painful connections to that one Mrs. Bennet and her many daughters all pulled him to think otherwise about his dance partner. Bingley might as well have told him to turn blond by sheer will. Darcy couldn't consider living through this war without her somewhere in his life. Even her peripheral presence was more preferable than a life of somber rectitude and correct breeding. So that proud and elegant head slowly lowered itself to rest on her glorious hair and the lovely eyes closed to let the man take the moment and forget everything else. He has done much, given everything of himself without thought of repayment for all his sacrifices. I have the right to enjoy this moment he thought, just this one moment if nothing else…

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