Frankie's Letter - By Dolores Gordon-Smith Page 0,16
guns on them.’
‘They did what?’
Sir Charles nodded. ‘They fired on the lifeboats. It’s nothing less than murder. The list goes on. The Falaba was forced to stop by a German submarine. It surrendered, the ship was stationary, the crew and passengers were getting into lifeboats, when the submarine torpedoed the Falaba. Over a hundred people were drowned.’
Anthony felt stunned. To attack the ships, yes. That was war, but to fire on the defenceless crew and passengers was against every rule of war, the sea and humanity.
Sir Charles saw his expression. ‘Grim, isn’t it? Germany’s fighting a blockade and she’s using fear as a weapon.’ He tapped his notes. ‘Cavanaugh’s warning indicates that the attack on the Lusitania was planned. Do you know that doesn’t surprise me? The German Embassy in Washington issued a notice to the New York press that any vessel – any vessel at all – was liable to destruction. We’re fighting a ruthless enemy who doesn’t recognize rules.’
He pushed his chair away from the desk and walked to the window. ‘I remember you were shocked at the idea of going into Germany to gather information. I had to persuade you to break the rules, as you saw it. You didn’t –’ he turned and looked at Anthony ‘– think it was a pukka thing to do. How do you feel now?’
Anthony shrugged helplessly. ‘How on earth can I recall how it felt before the war? It seems a lifetime away. I still don’t like it.’ He avoided Sir Charles’s eyes. ‘I’d far rather follow my original notion and join the Medical Corps. I don’t know how much use I was in Germany but I know I’d be worth my salt in an army hospital. Besides that, it’d be a relief to be known by my own name and not be on my guard all the time. I made mistakes, Talbot, plenty of them. I covered them up, but you can only get away with it for so long.’
Sir Charles hitched himself onto the window sill and leaned against the frame. He looked at Anthony appraisingly. ‘How old are you, Brooke?’
Anthony was puzzled. ‘How old? I’m thirty-two. Why?’
Sir Charles nodded. ‘You seem older. You’ve been through it, haven’t you? There’s more grey in your hair than I remember and you look tired. But we need you, Brooke. You don’t just speak the language. You can pass for a native without question.’
‘So what?’ countered Anthony. ‘Yes, I’m a good mimic. You know that.’ He looked at Sir Charles, willing him to understand. ‘But this is more than a game. It’s horribly real. I want . . .’ With a stab of shame he heard his voice crack and he forced himself to continue. ‘God knows what I want, Talbot, but there are men dying in France, men I can help. Surely that’s more important than picking up crumbs of information.’ Mortified, he heard his voice nearly break once more. ‘It’s not worth it.’
Sir Charles walked to the sideboard, took out a bottle and two glasses and poured a small measure of whisky into both. ‘Here, drink that,’ he said and waited until Anthony, wincing slightly, drank the neat spirit.
Sir Charles splashed some soda water into his whisky and sat down at the desk, looking at Anthony thoughtfully. ‘Now the immediate danger’s over you’re suffering from reaction, and no wonder,’ he said quietly. ‘You asked if it was worth it.’
He caught Anthony’s expression of dissent and held his hand up. ‘It’s just beginning to dawn on everyone, politicians and people alike, exactly what we’re up against. Lord Kitchener never believed the war would be over by Christmas and made no bones about saying so. We’re in for a long haul and there are no short cuts to victory.’ His voice grew urgent. ‘But as that sinks in, as the casualties grow and the restrictions begin to bite, there’ll be cries for peace at any price. A quick fight with soldiers to cheer off onto the troopships is what the public loves. For a time it’s more fun than football and cricket and people enjoy reading about distant acts of bravery in places with funny foreign names. But this?’
He walked to the desk and stood with his hands braced on the table. ‘This is different. You’ll hear a lot of talk in the coming months to the effect that the government are senseless warmongers, that all we need to do is to sit down and talk nicely to the Germans with