'Oh—the Government; no, they never have understood that if you want real brains and ability you must be prepared to pay for them. That's why there are so many duds among the Civil Servants. But this is my affair. You carried all that was left of my poor boy back out of the Hell of the Somme, Gregory, and I had only the one—that is, as far as I know—so I've always meant to see to it that you were decently provided for. You've been down in my Will for years for quite a tidy sum, but by the time we've finished with this damned house-painter feller none of us may have any money left to leave anyone. That's why I added the extra nought—thought you might just as well have a bit on account for pocket-money, while the going's good.'
'I just don't know how to thank you, sir; but I'm sure you know how I feel.'
'That's all right, my boy; that's all right.' Sir Pellinore gave Gregory's shoulder a little jerky shake and turned away to refill the Kummel glasses. 'Now, what are your plans? It's no good my asking you to take a holiday while there's a war on; I know you too well for that, and naturally you're anxious to get back to that pretty wench of yours on the other side.'
Gregory nodded. 'You must give me her address and I shall want you to get me a new passport visaed for France, Belgium, Holland, Switzerland and Italy; one that Goering had faked for me is good only for the British Empire and Finland.'
'Right. That shall be done through special channels so that you have it in time to leave on Monday morning's plane. Have you any particular line that you mean to follow up?'
'No. I was hoping that Erika would have started a hare in Holland or Belgium by the time I was able to join her. But I take it that if she'd got on to anything she would have let you know about it.'
'She's been doing good work—damn' good work. That, of course, was really why I went on to Brussels after I'd finished in Paris. Her written reports made such interesting reading that I thought it worth the extra time to get further particulars from her by word of mouth. She and your friend—what's-his-name?
—Kuporopoff—have been putting the tabs on Hitler's secret weapon right, left and centre during these past three weeks, He's got scores of attractive young women in Holland and Belgium, and these little pink rats are playing exactly the same game as they played in Norway.
'I've been able to put such a dossier in front of the more energetic members of the Cabinet that I believe they'd force an issue on it if it weren't for the fact that a Cabinet crisis on other grounds is blowing up already. Unfortunately Chamberlain can't be persuaded that these neutrals are, all against their own will, neutrals no longer and that for their sakes as well as ours we should go into the Low Countries at once instead of leaving it to Hitler to choose his own date and forestall us.'
Gregory frowned. 'Isn't there a risk that if we went into them uninvited they might appeal to the Nazis for assistance? If they did, we'd be in a fine mess, you know; because not only would the quite useful Belgian and Dutch armies be added to our enemies but by such an act of unprovoked aggression we might do ourselves almost irreparable damage with the United States, and that would be playing Hitler's game with a vengeance.'
'Nonsense, boy, nonsense! These little countries are not frightened of us; they know perfectly well that even if we had to occupy them temporarily we should give them back their full independence the moment the war ended. What's more, even during our occupation we should treat their populations with every consideration, see to it that they received adequate supplies of food and pay them handsomely for anything like rolling stock and so on that we had to commandeer for our military operations. But if Hitler once goes into these places he'll never march out again of his own free will. They'd be given Gauleiters and made permanent vassal states of Germany. He would commandeer everything he wanted, and if he paid for it at all he'd only do so in useless marks. To feed his own people he'll strip their larders as bare as Mother Hubbard's cupboard and, naturally, in the event of a German occupation of the Low Countries we should extend our blockade to them; which means that if the war is not over by next winter five million Dutch and Belgians are going to starve to death. They know that, Gregory, as well as I know that you've got that old scar above your eyebrow.'
'Then why the hell don't they make a secret pact with us to go in on a certain date?' Gregory asked in a puzzled voice. 'They could afford to risk a spot of bother if French and British troops were already landing in their ports.'
'They daren't,' Sir Pellinore boomed. 'They're scared stiff that while the negotiations were going on their intentions would leak out. With our present Government in power six weeks at least would elapse before all our little cooks and bottle-washers had been consulted and completed their preparations. Long before that Hitler would have got wind of it that the Dutch and Belgians were plotting to come in against him.
Then he'd have a perfect excuse for invading them first; and you can just imagine the manner in which he would take it out of the poor devils. That's why they positively dare not ask us to lift a finger.
'On the other hand there's nothing to prevent us making our preparations in secret, then arriving at their ports one morning and simultaneously wheeling the left end of the main Allied Army over the Franco-Belgian frontier. There would be a formal protest and within six hours they would accept the situation. We should be able to establish ourselves on a line from Amsterdam to Antwerp and along the Albert Canal before Hitler could get there. That would secure to us the ports and the coast-line, which is all that really matters, and within another six hours it's three to one that the Dutch and Belgian armies would be fighting with us.'
Sir Pellinore began to pace up and down as he went on angrily: 'As it is, if we sit tight and wait until Hitler decides to march in on a date of his own choosing, we shall find ourselves in an even worse mess than we are over the Norwegian business. Holland and Belgium will almost certainly resist the aggression and call for our assistance. If we don't go to their help the effect on world opinion will be deplorable and the whole of the coast-line from the Zuider Zee to Dunkirk will fall into Germany's hands within a fortnight. Alternatively, if we do go to their assistance you may bet your bottom dollar that there will be no troopships ready to be flung into the Dutch ports to support the Netherlanders and our Army will have to leave the protection of the fortified line that it has been digging all through the winter, to wheel into Belgium at a moment's notice; and I suppose you realise what that means?'
'That they'll have to fight in the open,' said Gregory.
'Exactly. Having lost the value of surprise they will no longer be able to pick the most advantageous position for giving battle; they'll have to take the Germans on wherever they find them, which means tank for tank, gun for gun, man for man; and as the Germans have at least four tanks, four guns and four men for every one of ours we shall stand a first-class chance of being scuppered. As long as we remain behind the extension of the Maginot Line the advantage lies with us, but once we move out of it we shall be risking a major defeat and the destruction of our first-line Army, which might set any prospect of victory back for years. In fact, I'll go further. If the Germans annihilated the British in the open fields of Belgium through sheer weight of numbers, the way would be open for them to invade northern France and outflank the Maginot Line proper. Then the organ-grinder might get his courage up sufficiently to launch an invasion of France's south-western provinces. If he did, the French would be caught between two fires and it might put them out of the war altogether.'