To See The King

Chapter 1

It was the fall of 1946, when the greatest mystery of the war began to unfold at Buckingham Palace. His Royal Highness, King George VI sat alone in his suite studying the satisfactory results of a recently concluded meeting with British Prime Minister, Clement Richard Attlee and Canadian Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King. Britain had favorably secured long-term credits from Canada in hopes of retaining prewar grandeur and world status. Suddenly the King remembered that he was supposed to ask Mackenzie King to keep his promise to supply the Palace guards with necessary bearskin for their busbies. His mind, however, was preoccupied with the forthcoming holidays due to start in three hours. Crowds had already begun to assemble outside the palace and along the streets to the station.

His family was holidaying in Bangor on the North Coast of Ireland. The Royal Yacht Britannia awaited his arrival in Liverpool.

A discreet rap on the door and the King's Royal Valet, Duncan Rams-Bottomley entered. He bowed and said in a voice slightly more than a whisper, "Your majesty - telephone call. It's the Lord Great Chamberlain, the Marquis of Chumley." The valet remained bowed.

King George sat back and stroked his chin. He wondered how many more interruptions there would be before he could board his carriage awaiting in the courtyard. Yet, the Marquis would certainly not be calling unless it was of an urgent personal nature. He put the receiver to his ear as the valet retreated backwards, "Just a second, Harry."

He addressed his valet, "Dunc, do you mind waiting. And stand up straight or you'll become the hunchback of Buckingham Palace".

Then to the phone, "Yes, Harry"

The marquis was aware of the King's holiday plans and eliminated the Royal protocol. He wanted to remain the King of his decree that any individual acts of wartime heroism be must be reported to Buckingham Palace. He started, "Your majesty. It has been brought to my attention that somewhere between Chelmsford and Colchester is an area where the Germans sent roughly 2000 V-1 rockets. This area, perhaps 50 square miles, is all chewed up and pock-marked like the surface of the moon."

There was silence on both ends of the line. The marquis respectfully awaited his King while the latter remembered that particular district of land and reminisced a meeting with the then Prime Minister, Winston Churchill in 1944 or was it 1943 - where that particular area would be ideal as a war museum, perhaps attracting vast tourism and other interests to an otherwise barren district.

The kind cleared his throat and asked, "Um, Harry, did you say 2000 rockets?"

"Very true, Your Majesty. It was discovered only this morning. No one in the Military has any foreknowledge nor do they have any theories. It's an absolute mystery. Undoubtedly these rockets were meant for London. It's estimated that if these rockets had made their target, over 100,000 lives would have been lost."

The King remained calm although is eyes began to moisten. He asked, "Who made the discovery?"

Group Captain Glen Peterson, special attaché to General Sir William Cross and an American Sergeant."

"An American Sergeant?"

"Yes, Your majesty. He's a marine, a helicopter pilot transporting the group Captain."

After a few seconds hesitation the King asked, "Harry, can you have these two men at the palace at 3 PM? No chaperones are needed."

After the conversation the King asked his valet to cancel the train to Liverpool but keep the Royal Yacht in readiness in the harbor. The private phone rang and the King waved off the valet and answered it himself.

It was the Marquis again. "Your majesty. There's something I forgot to mention. In the midst of this devastation, centered in the blackened hills is a train."