Always brisk in his speech, that was given like a command.
‘The Danakil Desert to the east, bad country to fight in for anyone, but open and thus ten times worse for an army without an air force. Any incursion south of there from Italian Somaliland will be as much a diversion as real, to draw off part of the defence in Tigray Province. The route from Asmara to the south is the way the Italian army will employ for their main advance, and here, on the Ethiopian west,’ a finger jabbed down, ‘the mountains and the Great Rift Valley — that is where they should seek to fight.’
‘Let the Italians have Addis Ababa?’
‘The Russians let Napoleon have Moscow, and look what happened to him. Attrition is the key to defeating Mussolini, a drawn-out war and mounting casualties that cause him trouble with his home population. Seek to use the cover provided by the mountains and forested valleys, hold off his forces till the weather changes and the rains come, which are torrential in the mountains. Low cloud means planes can’t fly, which neuters the air force and time spent clambering about in wet weather will make his troops tired, miserable and sick of being away from home. Use ambuscade and stick to small-scale actions, that is what you should advise this Haile Selassie chappie.’
That was followed by a direct look and a rather toothy smile. ‘But, of course, you are not advising him, are you, young Jardine?’
‘Is there a flaw in that notion?’
‘Well spotted, boy,’ Amherst cried, like a pleased schoolmaster. ‘You recall my saying the place is very tribal and the present Lion of Judah, as Selassie styles himself, is not loved by all. There has been much palace intrigue in old Ethiopia, don’t you know. Had to manoeuvre his way to the top spot, so he might be in a jam if it comes to a long drawn-out war. Might need a quick victory just to hold his position. If he tries it, he will lose. Tricky, what?’
‘Surely the solution would be to offer battle once, with a pre-plan to break off the action quickly, retreat to prepared positions for stands of short duration, with a rearguard willing to make the necessary sacrifices as his forces disperse into the mountains. Thus he shows the folly of engagement in force and gets his tribes to agree to a new strategy. From what I have read, the one thing that unites them is the determination not to become just another subject African race.’
‘It’s damned difficult for a disciplined army to retreat in good order, laddie. For what is really a peasant force it might be impossible, and that means sacrificing his best troops to save the mass. Without those semi-professional levies he might find himself turfed out by one of his own, regardless. You’ll stay to luncheon, of course. Be a bit basic, since my wife is away.’
That proved to be an understatement: Amherst was not a hearty trencherman and he was the type to keep the wine bottle safely out of reach behind his back, so it was sparse fare and careful sipping for Cal Jardine as they talked about Hitler’s programme of rearmament, of the just-signed Anglo-German naval agreement — that had caused a rift between Britain and France — the woolliness of the League of Nations and the recent Stresa Conference, at which Mussolini had signed up to a limit on German expansion, to Amherst’s way of thinking only as a ploy to get his own way in the Horn of Africa.
‘He won’t keep his word, young Jardine, but in the hope of keeping the ice cream vendor on our side we will refuse any request from Ethiopia for either aid or arms, and so will our prickly French chums, not that they are in any state to intervene, anyway.’
‘Are we, sir?’
‘No, laddie! The army is in a shocking state and the ordnance is out of date. We have too many officers who are ill-equipped to fight the last war, never mind the next, tactical stupidity at the heart of everything they do.’
Jardine had to nod at that: he had served with some real dunderheads and had dined with and been inspected by senior officers who made his regimental idiots look intelligent.
‘What got us the breakthroughs in the last show? Tanks. Have we got enough armoured vehicles, as well as of the right kind, and methods of employing them properly? God, no! Government won’t spend enough money on aircraft, so really and as usual, we only have the navy. They are not much use unless we tell Mussolini we will sail through the Suez Canal to the Red Sea and bombard Massawa. There’s no chance of that while the Italians have a full battle-ready division on the Libyan border ready to close the canal completely if we try.’
‘Germany?’
‘Determined on war since the Treaty of Versailles, and don’t be fooled that Hitler is the only one who wants it. His generals are just as eager and they have been planning it since they were forced to surrender. When it comes to grievances, he and they have a raft of them, given what we sliced off the sods. Half of Silesia, the Sudetenland and the blue touchpaper has to be Danzig and that damned piece of territorial stupidity called the Polish Corridor.’
‘You should hear the Germans on that, sir, they become incandescent.’
‘Can’t say I blame them. If we are not at war again by 1945 I will eat my hat. As the wise Roman said, “If you wish for peace prepare for war”, but no one in this land of ours is listening.’ That was expounded with passion, leading to a bout of coughing, until he spluttered. ‘Life is so much easier for dictators.’
‘You’re not suggesting we look for one, are you, sir?’
That comment made the older man laugh with real gusto. ‘Only if it’s me, young Jardine, only if it’s me.’
The stopover in London was only to pick up a suitcase, then it was off to Victoria for the boat train, a run through the verdant county of Kent to Dover, and a bit of a rough crossing that had Jardine staying away from those passengers who lacked sea legs. On the afterdeck he let the wind blow him about as he watched the disappearing white cliffs and recalled the first time he had done this, as an eighteen-year-old newly commissioned officer. His stomach had been less stable then, due to a combination of excitement and anxiety.
Anxiety? To go to war, when so many had paid the ultimate sacrifice before you, was something that could not be avoided, and especially when the evidence of what was happening at the front abounded — the ever lengthening casualty lists, the badly wounded men in the streets, the black-clad widows or old men with funeral armbands. These concerns were reflected in his mother’s sad eyes the day he joined up, but there was another reason: the fear of letting yourself, your peers or the regiment down by being shy in battle or going mad with shell shock.
Excitement was a common emotion for a youngster in such a situation, the chance to prove yourself a proper man quelling the fears of death or being maimed, that and the high spirits of your companions, all of whom seemed determined to arrive in France in a state of inebriation. After landing he had gone to the infantry training base at Etaples to find himself once more shouted at by unsympathetic sergeants as they sought to teach him what he would need to know to avoid the average death within two weeks of new subalterns on the Western Front.
The drinking did not abate: there had been gambling in nearby Le Touquet, or nights out in the fishing port of Etaples itself, a place of seedy bars and brothels catering to the carnal needs of the British army, with outrageous overcharging and ill-disguised resentment the norm from the locals. Being an officer he had been given leave to go to Paris, a city, even in wartime, so easy to fall in love with; that is, if you could stand the rudeness of the Parisians, even to a British officer who spoke their language. There he had steeled himself for his first paid encounter with the opposite sex, approaching many a Clichy doorway before shying away, the face of his young and beautiful wife intervening.