The gardens of the Achilleon

Metis: est dolor in capite meo et non videtur prohibere

Montgomery felt a sense of relief as he flew the mission. Finally, he could focus on the task at hand and not have this train of thoughts constantly plaguing him. It was just him, his plane and the enemy. No more worrying about Paris' well-being, about the safety of London, or Manfred.  

But, the second the thrill was gone, the die had been cast and Montgomery's plane touched ground he was instantly faced with a whirlwind of thoughts and 'ifs'. He tried to not let it get to him, but he knew the others of his squadron saw something was not right with Montgomery Armstrong. Even the ever-so-stoic Captain Ogilvie saw it.

Montgomery walked from the airfield, straightened his coat and reached into his pocket to find his pack of cigarettes and a match. He lit his cigarette on the match and put it in his mouth and nervously took a drag as he leaned against the hangar wall. He saw his Sopwith Camel stand in the field, the grey and white paint cracking and peeling in some places...

He sighed. Time seemed to turn irrelevant, days and months blended together and his heart seemed to stop those rare moments he received letters from home every time he held an envelope from home he could feel his hands shake as he cut open the letter and yearned for any news on Paris' well being every time he did he was met with disappointment because Paris' hearing wasn't getting better... neither was the damage the initial blast did to his legs.

Montgomery could only survive and count down the days until he was allowed a few days of leave...

25th September 1917:
Yet another letter came in the mail and Montgomery looked at the envelope as he pulled the letter from the envelope. It read:

My dearest son Montgomery,
Your brother's recovery has been going slow yet steady. At least now he is capable of walking again. While your brother is most of a mother's concern I am writing you to tell you that on the 5th of September 1917, Rittmeister Manfred Albrecht Freiherr von Richthofen was shot down over France. While he has survived he suffered a grave injury to the head and will be out of the battle for some time. My dear son, I know how you care about your old friends, do not worry about Freiherr von Richthofen. He is being well cared for at home. I as your mother beg you to be extra careful, if even the Red Baron can be shot down and hurt so can you. Your father, I, your brother and your sister all pray for you to return home safely.
Sincerely and with love, your mother: Baroness Lydia Theotokis.

Montgomery put down the letter. He didn't want to wait for leave anymore. He picked up the letter, stood up and walked to the Captain's office. Captain Ogilvie could be having a meeting with God Himself but Montgomery didn't care. He walked with a purpose, his footsteps echoing as he walked through the building of the Belgian airfield.

He knocked on Captain Ogilvie's door with a sense of urgency and he stood at the door. Was it highly inappropriate to bother a superior officer? Yes. Could he possibly get in trouble for doing this? Yes.

Does he care? Not at all, he is Baronet Montgomery Achillieus Armstrong, he knows what he wants and gets his done, all he wants now is to get a few days of leave... no he didn't want... he needed.

"Come in". Said Captain Ogilvie after a few minutes. Montgomery entered the room and stood at attention, "I am terribly sorry for so suddenly bothering you, si-". He started but the Captain simply looked at him as he sat at his desk. "What is it?" He asked, cutting Montgomery off and he swallowed a sour comment.

"I am here to request leave sir, just a few days... it is truly an emergency, sir". He said formally but there was this undertone of franticness to his words. He stood in front of the Captain but kept shifting his weight as all he could think about was the well-being of both his brother and Manfred.

Captain Ogilvie looked at Montgomery "Master Sergeant... yesterday a private came in here asking for leave because he became a father. I did not give it to him. Why should I give it to you? Do you not want to fight, soldier?" He said and Montgomery knew the Captain was testing his intentions Montgomery looked at the Captain as he sucked in a breath and lifted his chin.

"Do not worry sir, it distresses me knowing I will have to leave you all behind and not be here to support our men... but please- I request a maximum of a week-". Montgomery said and Captain Ogilvie seemed to think about it.

"72 hours, Armstrong. I cannot possibly give you a week. I give you 72 hours starting the second you leave my office. If you fail to return within this time, and no matter how fancy your family's lawyer is, you'll be hunted down and put in front of a firing squad. Understood?" Montgomery nodded and looked at Captain Ogilvie.

"Yes, sir". He responded in a firm tone, his message was clear to Montgomery.

"Dismissed". The Captain said and Montgomery looked at his watch as he left. It was 8 AM, and he had 72 hours to get to London, visit Paris in the hospital and then immediately leave for Prussia to visit Manfred at his home...

For efficiency, he went by plane. He did not want to waste any time. Could he get in trouble for this? Perhaps, but it was not set he couldn't take his plane. The flight didn't go as quickly as he wanted. Flying at an average of 175 kilometres an hour he got there in a paining 3 and a half hours... only 72 hours and thirty minutes left. The garden of his parent's estate was large enough for him to safely land his plane. He, together with two gardeners pushed his plane into the unused barn at the back of the garden... Montgomery had no time to waste, he immediately set out to the hospital.