Opening Moves

“Apparently the listeners were divided on what had been said, and an argument occurred. They all decided to stop wasting time and democratically resolved the issue. Majority vote went to Uncle Ralph’s version and the rest is a matter of public record. The clerk wrote it down as fast as her hands could do the deed, just to get them all the hell outta Dodge!”

“Wonderful Marion, wonderful.”

Ramsey shook his head, still enjoying the metal images conjured up by Crisp’s story.

“That simply isn’t true is it… err… Ryan?”

“It certainly is Cam. You don’t think I could make that up?”

His look of innocence was not convincing but it didn’t matter. It was a damn good story.

“So we will go for Ryan I think. Agreed?”

Prentiss extended his arm and offered his glass forward. The others clinked theirs to his.

“Agreed,” spoken as one.

“Right then sir.” Ramsey recovered his poise. “You said Cam?”

“Ah nothing so fabulous and enthralling as our good friend Ryan here. Merely my initials. I am the possessor of some tiresome names and the family shortened them, for which I am extremely grateful.”

“Well I got the Cedric part earlier. Best you ante up with the rest ‘old chap’,” said Crisp, obviously feeling the warm spreading effects of some superior French brandy.

“Quite so Ryan. I am blessed with the names Cedric Arthur Moreton, hence the very simple abbreviation ‘Cam’.”

Both Majors’ brains were working overtime with the additional possibilities.

‘Prentiss?’

“And before either of you ‘gentlemen’ goes further into the possibilities of my initials I should warn you that I make a very implacable enemy!”

Nothing was said but the grins were loud and clear.

All glasses were now empty and Prentiss again beckoned to the passing senior orderly.

“Three more Brandies if you please.”

The old orderly looked extremely uncomfortable.

“I very much regret Colonel Sir Lord; I am under orders to govern the intake of all officers this evening. You are now at the limit set by my General and say I must decline to serve you further. Apologies Colonel Sir Lord. I may serve Commandant Ramsey of course, and Commandant Crisp may continue as he will be leaving us.”

There was not a lot that could be said about that without causing a scene, so Prentiss asked for a Perrier instead.

“Tight ship they run here it seems chaps.”

“Colonel Sir Lord?” ventured Ramsey.

“Yes well, very tiresome. Let’s not be bothered by it. Sure that damn fellow used to wait tables at the Savoy you know.”

The continuing looks from his two companions stirred him further.

“Oh alright. I am Viscount Kinloss, Sir Cedric Arthur Moreton Prentiss, not really a lord chaps, or at least, not a proper one.”

The additional drinks arrived, but neither Major felt comfortable with drinking the fine brandy in front of an envious Prentiss.

“Well Gentlemen,” Prentiss rose, “I will take a short stroll before retiring to my chamber. I do hope to see you both in the morning,” he paused for humorous effect, “My Ryan, but if you are gone my best regards to you for the future. Pop up and see me in my Scottish seat when you get a chance. I will be easy enough to find.”

A hand extended and a firm handshake shared.

“Thank you Cam. It has been real fine to meet you Sir.”

Crisp stepped back to let Prentiss past.

“I will see you again Sir.”

“Indeed you will Ryan. As I will see you in the morning John.”

“Indeed Sir. Cam.” Ramsey swiftly corrected himself.

More handshakes and Prentiss took his leave. “Good night Gentlemen.”

“A good man that, John.”

“He certainly seems to be, Ryan.”

Before the last of the brandy disappeared, Ramsey had a question that was burning away inside.

“So tell me Ryan. You have done the week here. What’s the story?”

Crisp considered his reply, factoring in the closing words of the French Brigadier General last Friday afternoon.

“John, I cannot spoil the surprise but I will tell you this. You and I are soldiers and both of us have seen combat and all it has to offer. You will meet some more soldiers this week and they will teach you a very great deal about war. This has been a week I will never forget. And that is all I can tell you my friend.”

Both men stood on cue and firmly shook hands.

“I wish you well Major John Ramsey.”

“All the best to you Major Ryan Crisp.”

Crisp returned to his room as the clock was striking midnight and was asleep within minutes. Ramsey followed close behind.

Neither man expected to see the other again. They were both wrong.

Across Europe a line had been drawn. It could not be seen. It could not be touched.

None the less, it was real, and it marked a divide.

A divide not just between Armies but also between ideals and philosophies.

The western side of that divide lay at rest, save for a few men patrolling the line, guarding their sleeping comrades and the civilians of liberated Europe.

On the other side of that divide, there was little rest, as men gathered themselves and prepared to unleash hell.

Chapter 36 – THE GENERAL