Montgomery had to return to the battle at some point.
Two weeks after the crash that left him with a cracked skull he got on a train back to Belgium without any idea when or if he shall return.
His mother hadn't finished reading Pride and Prejudice but she promised to keep him updated on the story. Montgomery would never admit it, but he had gotten rather interested in the story himself. He eagerly awaited the letter, he counted the days and he didn't care for Captain Ogilvie who was barking orders at him or for Tommy who still seemed to hate everything and everyone that even dared to breathe in his direction.
When he got a letter on the 27th of June, he was almost ecstatic to open it. He hadn't heard anything from home in quite some time and hoped to read about his mother's opinion on the book... but when he opened the letter his face quickly changed from a smile to a look of concern, the letter went as followed:
To my dear son,
On June 13th at the 11th hour, the Germans bombed our city of London. I am glad to announce that both I and your father are fine. Besides a few broken windows, our estate is still standing. You're brother and his wife were less lucky. A bomb tore their hotel room apart, Katharina and her unborn child are fine except for some scrapes and the scare of their lives they are unharmed, but your brother, Paris was close to the blow. He is undergoing treatment in the hospital, he isn't badly hurt but it seems that the blow caused his hearing to be damaged. We are currently waiting for further notice.
Stay safe, my boy, my prayers are going out to both Paris and you.Kind regards and love, your mother: Lydia Armstrong Theotokis.
He looked at the letter in hand... England, his little island wasn't at all safe anymore. Montgomery had all these doom images in his head of trenches running through the streets of London... of the peaceful park that was on a small hill becoming a bloody battlefield just because it had a point of advantage. If, and if the central powers ever got all of Belgium and could win over France... if they could get Belgium and France well then surely England wouldn't be too much of a struggle.
The only peace that came to Montgomery's mind was that Napoleon had tried the same, and succeeded in both getting France, Belgium and the entirety of Northern Europe under his control but then came Russia... and Montgomery knew how bad it was down in Russia. He knew Manfred had been stationed there with the Uhlan cavalry before he became a pilot. Montgomery knew of the stories, dead Russians coming back to life coughing up their liquefied lungs and charging yet again to die for good moments later.
God was he glad the Russians were on his side.
If the biggest ruler over Europe after Karl the Great's eventual downfall was caused by Russia then what can the central powers do? But the central powers aren't just one country... it's the German Empire, Austro-Hungaria, Bulgaria, the Ottomans and all their colonies and satellite states...
Montgomery had already failed at keeping England safe. He was not going to watch his country be turned into a battlefield... but now, the thoughts were all swimming in his mind. Then all of the thoughts seemed to stop when he thought of Manfred's words:
"I don't know what side I belong to anymore".
If the central powers manage to make even the ever so stoic and stubborn Manfred doubt himself then there's certainly something wrong. Then that has to mean that things are not as well as they may seem to be within the central powers.
Montgomery sighed as he folded the letter and put it away. His hand drifted to his back pocket where he took out a small pack of sophisticated French cigarettes... the same kind Manfred loves so much, he didn't know what prompted him to buy cigarettes for himself, he'd always been an occasional smoker but the cigarettes calmed his mind for just a second... it cleared the dark clouds fogging up his thoughts and it gave him something to do instead of journaling and driving himself mad with his thoughts.
A figure blocked his sunlight and cast Montgomery in a shadow. He didn't even have to look up, he got to his feet and stood at attention already mentally prepared for Captain Ogilvie's bible worth of orders: "At ease Master Sergeant Armstrong, you're flying at 1300 hours with
Thomas Freeze". All Montgomery could do was nod and subconsciously say: "Yes, sir".He took a drag from his cigarette and looked at his watch... he still had time... he looked at the cigarette between his fingers and sighed as he rubbed his face. Montgomery was exhausted, both mentally and physically... ever since that dream he hasn't had a peaceful night's sleep. The thought of Manfred kept following him wherever he went and it was driving him crazy... this feeling of yearning, but also dread, knowing he was the enemy he was supposed to kill.
He knew he couldn't do it. Even if Manfred gave him a gun and asked him to pull the trigger Montgomery wouldn't be able to do it. Manfred had saved his life for Christ's sake... but Montgomery knew this wasn't only about that, his thoughts kept drifting to Greece. To those damned gardens and what happened inside of them.
He blew out the smoke of the cigarette. Life had gotten much more difficult, Montgomery wasn't a 16-year-old boy anymore... he had duties, worries, and things especially Manfred making this situation all the more difficult for him... he was looking out to the mission, flying and smoking were the only things that could clear his mind, to help him fully focus on the task at hand and not have this speeding freight train of thoughts constantly rushing through his head.
YOU ARE READING
The gardens of the Achilleon
Historical FictionSquadron 540 was a squadron of a dozen 30-year-old something battle-hardened Canadian and British veteran pilots. They were the Canadians that reasoned 'war crimes for the fatherland'... the Brits that flew into the jaws of beasts with a smile on th...