The Dragons Talons

By J Tripp

the dragons go foreign this time first to the caribbean then the gulf of arabia and then to the south pacific. a set of adventures nets the dragons honorary citizenship in france and jack is knighted by the queen.
one of jack's best coups is the purchase on an island in scapa flow where he buils a new base and airfield then joins a group of international businessmen to form the thistle group. they are becoming a leading petrol company ensuring supplies to admiralty. jack learns to fly and the group begins to become a leader in weapons innovation with the use of the spike an electronic weapon capable of bringing everything to a halt. a sail of tall ships and jack gets engaged to baroness charteris reunites with his grandparents and as usual the dragons entertain in leywood house jack's castle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J Tripp
• Release date: Dec 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301451203

J Tripp

Born in England 1944 and educated in Canada it took me 60 years to begin writing but I finally did it. I'm a veteran of the Royal Canadian Navy as well as the Royal Australian Navy and a keen sailing enthusiast. I took up the pen when an accident at work disbled me but nothing can crush the human spirit.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE: A Medieval Christmas

The Northern Dragon was tied up alongside the Gambler in her home port, a tide pool on the south coast of England, not far from Selsey Bill. Over millennia the Hook River had carved its path to the sea right past our little place. The outfall had created a tide pool with a marsh full of sea birds, and enough room for three medium sized ships to maneuver.

To the passerby or casual observer from seaward, a couple of yachts had their moorage in this secluded bay. We did nothing to change anybody’s mind from any direction and even kept the guard shack a hundred yards from the lane with its huge hedge of interwoven tree trunks and foliage too thick for eyes to penetrate. Only when you entered the compound proper and looked about you did it register that this was a military establishment, and a strange one into the bargain.

It was not uncommon to find several navies and air forces mixing with their contemporaries in the army and walking purposefully back and forth with files or marching together in mixed forces with precision so far unseen anywhere else.

A little history will serve to enlighten the newcomer. At our establishment hidden on the coast, troops from many different sources met to learn special skills not taught in basic training but absolutely necessary for any ‘Dragon’. And all ‘Dragons’ were well rounded in social as well as militaristic arts, students of ancient techniques and proponents of ultra-modern, mixed like a family of genius.

Our humble beginnings started in Halifax when we trained ten men to take down a heroin smuggler and his crew in the islands of Passamaquoddy Bay on the border with Maine. Now as then we tended to operate from yachts usually ignored at sea along the coasts we patrolled. The ranks were a little swollen with fifty men on active readiness in Halifax, forty more in Fox Harbor Newfoundland, two classes of twenty cadets from the army in training, all managed by Rod Squires and ‘Farkie’ Farquhar with the ever efficient Chief Wren Catharine Atkinson and ‘Dusty’ Rhodes manning the files.

After a few successful missions, one of which involved us saving the Peer who was our benefactor, I ended up owning a medieval castle with three hundred acres of land. Our French contingent, the ‘Crusader Dragons’ tending the Mediterranean, a German group, the ‘Sea Wolves’ minded the north-west sector of the European map watching the ‘wall’ and keeping notes and our bunch took care of England, Scotland and Ireland, all of us under the aegis of Interpol.

It was the end of November; Guy Fawkes Day had come and gone along with any trace of leaves on the trees. I put Dog down and went to the coffee pot at the end of my apartment, snow had begun to fall, triggering that ancient thing it always did in me, something tying me to the very stones of England more solidly than any patriotism and hidden till the snowfall. Mac was in the courtyard with Brownie stringing lights and the Wrens had a ladder up in the oak branches hanging decorations and laughing in the little flurries that always got down your neck.

Iris and Sykes walked through the gatehouse hand in hand and it seemed that Dave Mason’s prediction might have been correct. Our doctor had gone up to Yorkshire where he was marrying his childhood sweetheart; there were things in the air.

I went down the stone stairs with the cat beside me into the great hall and headed for the kitchen to see what was for breakfast; Dog came because he was hoping for cream. Mac was getting himself a coffee and spotted his cat. There you are you little bugger, he nearly took my foot off this morning, got under the blankets and POW!

The cat began his leg weaving routine getting Craig and his father as well as Mac and me, He’s just a big softie, aren’t you fellah?

The big ‘Aussie’ reached down to pet him, receiving a hand full of claws for his trouble. Strewth, somebody better give him some cream.

Craig put his dish down and the kitty forgot all of us as he lapped it up and went into the corner to sleep, he had been up since way before dawn.

Breakfast consisted of a choice of cereals, eggs any style, bacon, ham, steak, red lead and hash browns. I served my men and heard their comments about how ‘parky’ it was outside and the swans are in the courtyard again as they cleaned their plates and smiled in Craig’s direction.

I took my plate across to Johnno’s table where he was plotting full out, sheets of notepaper lay all over the table, I kept my plate in my lap.

Morning ‘Skipper’ haven’t seen you, been down the shore again?

Marc and McRae had discovered the joys of broken field running over the rocks and driftwood that collected below our cliffs, it represented a challenge, so far no casualties. For me the run got all my muscles working and kept me fit for the desk driving I was getting more of as our German project went into its final stages.

The ‘Wewak Salvage Boys’ were camped out with us for the holiday season. The final stage of construction was set for the early part of January so we would spend our holiday together in the castle then go back to Wilhelmshaven to finish Kurt’s new school. My birthday was around the corner and would mark the beginning of our second year in the new base. Before I knew it the paperwork had vanished and the day was dark.

Johnno was feverishly planning, ordering foods and stocking up the bar for a ‘feastive’ season as he was calling it.

Well John there’s ten days left before the day and two days before your day, are you sticking to roast beef and Yorkshire?

He knew me, I’d go just about anywhere for a good roast dinner.

Yeah, let’s not change that part; the cooks will make other dishes for the vegetarians.

Jackie and Dog tore through, the diminutive terrier yapping furiously at the cat’s tail as he kept just ahead. The spirit was on us, snow fell thickly now collecting on the strings of colored lights and the battlements. The troops filed in, their day’s duty now through and looking for comfort, some blowing on their hands before accepting a mug of kye from the cooks. Charlie’s big hands were busy serving the kye and chatting with his son, the German job had rounded them out and it looked like they were enjoying being family.

Sykes the medic stood by the door counting heads, and when he was sure nearly everyone was in he called out, Dragons, I have asked Chief Wladychuck to be my bride, she said yes! The terrible trio, true to form began a four minute shrieking session while Iris showed off her new ring to the Wrens. It wasn’t the time to ask her, but I was planning on sending her to Halifax to run things while the Atkinson family spent four months in Germany. Then I thought, Sykes might like the change in draft, he was a good instructor and Mangles Moran should get time over here.

I reached for my note pad and remembered Madge had virtually taken over in the records department

What is it sir?

I told her my plans and asked her advice on it, she replied that the couple wanted to go to Canada for their honeymoon; it would be perfect for them.

Yates brought me a signal.

Flag sir, it’s a long one.

I took the flimsy and signed the signals log, he was right; four pages of what looked like a poll, Admiralty wanted our opinion on the proposed unification of the forces into a more powerful integrated command. Right away they were going to erase all our military history and start writing it anew, they had also replaced the flag with a red maple leaf on a white background with vertical red bars at each end and no ‘Jack’.

You might call me old fashioned, a true patriot would wear a tutu into battle as the Greek army’s elite guard proved. But I balked at the idea of green trousers and berets after beginning with serge and bell bottoms.

I stuffed the thing in my tunic to peruse at leisure and paid attention to my men by suggesting the piano needed playing and that after dinner the beer was on me. Cheerfulness broke out all over and some music was played to the diners while they plotted how to help Sykes and Iris wet their engagement.

To speak of a thing is to cause it, the happy couple drifted over and I shoved up.

Park it here kids, there’s a huge ‘do’ to plan, but first a question, how do you fancy a paid vacation in Halifax for two months, one of those months free of duty? What it will mean is fast promotion for James to keep you in the navy together. Curiously they agreed to this for expediency purposes and because I told them how badly I want to keep you Chief.

I handed Sykes his orders and added, Of course James, my tailor is at your disposal, call it an engagement present.

The two of them stared at me and broke out laughing,

You must be a mind reader sir, and I wanted James to see Nova Scotia.

The night was as it should have been; wine was drunk in shipmate salutation, food of varying tastes came and went and the couple retired properly wetted. The morning brought a nightmare of snow to clean up calling for all hands with broom and shovel to remove a foot of the white stuff from footpaths and then the two ships. Mac went a long way toward solving it with a steam line, quickly sweeping the decks free of snow in half an hour.

The marines broke out a Land Rover with a plough and scraped the parade square and roadways so the cadets could reach the mess hall and gym, then our day began with colors and a pep talk from Bill Mann before heading off to the obstacle course. Eighty men went off at a run toward the course and several of our crew followed to play their wicked game keeping them back and getting in the way, Johnno trotted along beside them urging and cajoling. It was rugby season, time to get a team together. At the staff meeting I brought the subject up.

I know the season’s half over but our lads could easily take the Service Cup with the right kind of management. The side at Yeovilton will give us a game anytime we want, we’re way fitter than they are, it’ll be a way to test our skills again, what do you say Roger d’you think we can put a side together?

We decided to call our side the ‘Dragons’ in a fit of inventive genius, Roger and Mac laughed and agreed the ‘Dragons’ rugby side was formed. A notice went up next day announcing tryouts for a team, there were eighty two signatures on the sheet provided. I pointed to the huge list of names,

Roger, will you look at that, two names short of a league!

I wondered about Rollo and his bunch, would they be interested.

Peter showed up saying,

Rather good response I’d say, probably down to Johnno’s assault course rules.

I made an executive decision, Let’s put three really good teams together and one team building in reserve, that way we’ll always be competitive and that’s good for morale.

I was dreaming, they were holding me down by the legs and I couldn’t sit up, they were going to torture me, someone was using sandpaper on my eyelids. Some dreams aren’t worth staying asleep for I awoke with Jackie draped across my feet and Dog cleaning my eye sockets with his tongue. I planned to cut a cat-sized hole in Macs door before nightfall; someone had to share the cat.

All thoughts of revenge on the cat’s owner went out of my head when I walked into the cafeteria, I’d completely forgot my birthday what with thoughts of revenge and kitty torture. The entire staff joined in a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’, I blushed and the day got off to a great start with my favorite breakfast and a champagne cocktail.

To be absolutely fair I had Madge run up copies of the signal from FLAGLANT and a pile of them lay on the end of the table for the crew to pick up. Mac was reading one as Craig brought a fresh pot of coffee.

I’ve been readin’ the new signal ‘Skipper’. Are they serious? I’m thinkin’ of a transfer to the RN. So Lord Dunstable had been talking to him, oh well, it’s his life after all. Standing, I spoke to the Canadians.

All members of the RCN are asked to contribute to the questionnaire, whatever your decisions are I’m behind you 100 percent, ‘Dragons’ come first. Of course as Mac says, there’s the Royal Navy who don’t have plans to change their uniforms and structures in the foreseeable future. We need to read this and have a meeting on it, let’s say next Friday night with the bridge tournament.

As breakfast wound down and people went off to work, Lord Dunstable arrived and swept into the hall. He was in uniform on his way to Admiralty.

Good morning John, curious news from Halifax eh; Have you seen it yet?

I indicated the pile of copies.

Everyone will read and make their own decisions, some have already made up their minds, me I’m not sure yet what to do, it would be hard to leave all this behind. He sat down and Craig brought him a cup,

Will you eat sir? The Lord nodded,

Of course Craig, I’m famished, I’ll eat whatever you’ve got thank you.

Lord Dunstable leaned across the table speaking low,

We’ve bought you a gift for the day but I thought I’d get in first before Forrest calls. Were you to transfer to the Royal Navy, I can promise you more than he can, Captain’s stripes to start with. Of course it goes without saying; we’d like you to carry on just as you are right here in your own establishment.

Some birthday present, my future was confirmed no matter what I did, I wasn’t worried for myself or any of the original ‘Dragons’, we all had independent means, our lives were our own. I went up to my floor and went in to change; my bed had disappeared under a mound of gifts! Someone had discovered my shoe size and there were three pairs of handmade shoes, I nearly forgot the rest of the gifts until I sat down to try on a pair of low oxfords and discovered a box.

The box was flat and heavy, machine turned gunmetal with my name engraved on the hinged lid. Inside lay a beautifully-made pistol, in a felt-lined depression. A hand-crafted weapon with every good feature of several types included. Between two gold anchors the words ‘Commander Leywood 1967’ were deeply engraved and gold filled. The blueing was thick on a satiny finish; the clip lay in a tray with a full load of 9mm ammunition. A card with graphics only Madge could draw instructed me not to load more than twelve rounds in the clip or it would not fit, the subscription read, `See you on the range’.

It was a day for firearms. A Brown Bess musket, once the weapon of choice for the British Army, stood against the door frame with a card from Dave Brown tied to a powder horn. Another box, not as nice as Madge’s pistol case, but wood, contained an MP5 submachine gun, a gift from Kurt, something I’d wanted for a year since they first were introduced in Germany.

As it was Saturday and not much on, I donned some coveralls and went round to see Dave he was hard at work rebuilding a recoilless rifle and so involved he never heard me.

Hey winger, can you show me how to work this thing?

He started up, Oh yeah, happy birthday John, I’ll just grab my gear, have you spoken to Madge yet? Only she wants to come along to try a musket out.

I reached in my pocket, pulled out the pistol case and handed it to him. He opened the box and stared down in reverence.

She’s the best gunsmith I ever knew.

We walked down to the range adding to our number as we went until about thirty people stood around the firing line while some targets were placed in the butts. Dave took me through the procedure, Madge and several others stood in close to hear as he told us,

To pour a measure of powder down the barrel, insert the powder horn at the muzzle and turn the base, one measure. Wrap your shot in a wad and ram it down.

He poured in the powder and rammed the shot down.

Ok, cock the lock all the way back, two clicks then place the cap on the nipple, you are ready to fire.

He handed me the piece,

Am I supposed to spit on the sight like Davey Crockett? He laughed, No the sights are new and still shiny.

I fired; a .50 caliber ball of lead tore a path through the air and left a hole you could see from the firing line. There wasn’t much of a kick and not a loud bang, the gun sort of coughed a puff of powder smoke and holes appeared, for an unrifled bore it was very accurate.

I handed the musket to Madge.

I’ve not had a chance to thank you Madge, the pistol is marvelous, and you’re an artist. This thing will surprise you.

She went through the loading procedure, raised the gun and fired a bulls-eye. Grinning she reached for the powder horn.

I’m gonna make one of these next!

Inserting the clip in the pistol handle, I drew back the slide and sighted on the target twenty yards away, POW. The pointer indicated just left of the inner ring and withdrew. POW, POW; pointer indicated two bulls on the edge, no pull very little kick. I knew who was going with me next time. At a little more than half the weight of my favorite .45 and with just as much hitting power, this little beaut was a perfect sidearm.

Like happy parents Madge and TiJean watched as I ran through a clip and stood down, he was holding my MP5,

I load him for you Jean he’s got 30 round eh.

I went through the standard routine for sub-machine guns; this one operated on a gas blow-by system similar to the FNC2, but weighed less and was very accurate, allowing for tight groupings at long range. Settings included single shot, three shot and automatic. I chose the middle and was pleasantly surprised by its performance, my armory was growing. Vikko was beside me, I handed the thing over to the machine gun expert and watched as he enjoyed.

Lord Dunstable, whose collection of long guns was the envy of gun nuts worldwide, asked Madge,

Could you make me a copy of the MP5 your commander has? She hefted the thing and took in the simplicity of it.

Of course sir, it’ll take about a month. D’you want the folding stock too? He grinned, You’re a lucky man Jack, come and see your gift.

We walked round to the parking lot where his wife was just pulling in driving a new navy blue Land Rover Defender. She got down and shook my hand,

Happy birthday Jack. She handed me the keys to the truck and I realized they had just done what I did to Catharine and Dave.

We were strolling to the castle; I figured Johnno would have had enough time to prepare and the light was going. Entering the doors of my hall never felt better, this was a Navy establishment but the castle was mine, a gift from a Lord and everything I could wish for as a residence.

I’ve asked everyone to meet on the 23rd to discuss who will transfer and who will go back to Canada, I told them. The house I was born in is only fourteen miles or so from here, and though I’ve been in Canada for most of my life strangely I feel more at home in Britain. I will accept your kind offer, sir, and join the Royal Navy.

Lord Dunstable was beaming. Commander Mackintire was right about you, a ‘Dragon’ first. I’ve called Admiral Forrest you know, but it was about you not the dratted bus drivers the Prime Minister is developing. We both thought you might go this way when you had a chance to discover your heritage, I’ve been digging and you would not believe what I’ve found out. It will take some telling though; can you come to us for Boxing Day?

The hackles on my neck were prickling when the first part of the entertainment began. Armand, in his guise as Prince Ali Bubba, dressed in Arabic costume and affecting the strongest Texan accent, produced a tub of crude oil, several piles of precious stones which got everyone’s attention and only forgotten when Joe Goss popped out of a tablecloth with a lamp and a crystal ball. They dumped the stones in the vat of oil and passed the lamp over it, Joe peered into the crystal ball and tapped the rim of the vat and ‘Snap’ it vaporized.

Sheik Ali advised that everyone check under their napkin, a shiny gold ring with a dragon jewel carved from pure gemstone lay on the tablecloth, it fit.

TiJean had got plate spinning to a fine art even practicing at sea, at one point he had a dozen plates spinning while he enjoyed a leisurely cigarette. The four knife experts gave an inspiring performance and retired then the music began. Ian played a lovely etude, Peter gave us some ‘Flanders and Swann’ and Johnno recited a ballad about Abdullah Bulbul Ameer, a humorous account of a duel between Abdul and a Russian, Count Ivan Skavinski Skivar.

The night wound down and I walked up with Lord and Lady Dunstable to ‘Mac’s Bentley’ as they referred to it. The car was twenty-five years old and ran like the proverbial Swiss watch; when he or TiJean tuned something it ran well.

On the other hand Joe Goss could revive the dead. When Joe wanted a car, he walked to the wrecking yard and had a word with the men, asking if they had any Wolsley cars. There were two that had fairly decent bodies but the engines were gone they said. Joe said,

Show me them cars boys. The three of them walked to the rear of the yard where the two cars in question sat quietly rusting in the autumn sun,

If I makes that one go, can I have the other one? The junkyard men thought he was a nut case and the owner told him,

If you get that thing to go I’ll give it to you and the other one as well. That evening Joe showed up at the base garage driving one car with the other in tow.

Marc LeClerc and Joe spent hours of their spare time but finally had two beautifully restored cars on the road. Everyone had really interesting hobbies and now I wanted to restore an old bike. Roger, understanding my keen interest in motorcycles, had been to London and found some coffee table books on bike racing and handed me a card he’d been given, the man collected bikes and was in possession of some Vincent motorcycles if I was interested. With these interests in my forebrain, it was easy to make me a fan of old vehicles.

I held the door open.

I will come for Boxing Day, are you interested in the pantomime this year?

Saying they’d check the book and get back, they went off into the snow. I drove my Land Rover around the block and parked it in my spot.

Johnno was sitting by the fireplace.

Are you going to transfer to the ‘Kipper’ navy? I was thinking about whether I wanted to stay in if they’re going to do that and ruin a perfectly good Navy.

I related my plans and admitted some guilt where Admiral Forrest was concerned.

I’ll bet a month’s pay that he’d understand and if I know Commodore Stephenson, he’ll be resigning, I forgot to tell you that he wrote to me.

We entered my apartment and I pointed at the Scotch while asking the operator for the Halifax Naval Dockyard line. It rang twice and Brian Forrest picked up his desk phone.

John, glad you called, I spoke to the Third Lord two days ago, I agree with him, you should transfer and get a promotion. I’m going to Australia to run a squadron of ‘Daring’ class destroyers out of Sydney, we’re sailing down.

I was surprised and told him so.

Ottawa isn’t famous for listening, the last time they hinted at this we told them, unify some brain cells, we’re Navy, we don’t fly except off a carrier and we don’t march around in the dirt. Stupid thing is it was my ‘Wings’ that sealed the job for me. Being able to land on a carrier is really important to them.

After relating my experience in the Banshee with Brian Hardcastle’s instructor pilot, I rang off, we promised to stay in touch and I downed my Scotch and banged the glass down.

Larry, are you gonna stay with me?

He topped up our glasses.

The whole dam’ crew is staying, Stone is working on it already and we’ll all be changing cap tallies to HMS Leywood.

Slowly over the course of an hour we moved down to the hall and close to the fire and threw some logs on, Mac joined us and McRae slipped out of the shadows. Dave Mason strummed on his guitar and the lot of us sang, drank, yarned and joked until early.

The now traditional church parade drew a small crowd of admirers who lined the street as the men de-bussed and formed up for inspection. Peter had it down to a small quiet routine and we were in the church sitting on our side and facing forward, it was my turn to read the lesson which was the story of faith in James where Jesus lets the disciples in on his secret giving them the power to begin the Christian Ministry. Although I was never a Messiah, I did have some similar ideas about showing my students that they were as good as me or anyone else.

The sermon was on the wayward son and the preparations for his welcome back into the family fold, it was an epiphany for me, I was in the land of my birth and the land and people were welcoming me home. During the closing announcements the Vicar informed the flock of our decision to transfer to the Royal Navy and the congregation let us know how they thought of that by clapping thunderously. We were popular with our neighbors.

Leaving the church, a wave of emotion swept through me unlike any feeling I’d ever felt before. Something like a flower opening in my heart, a swelling of the breast for home, the home I’d never had. I got in my Land Rover and waved to Johnno.

Want to see where I was born? He got in all questions.

I come from Worthing, 14 miles that way.

Half an hour later I negotiated a lane behind a church and drew up in front of a tired looking Seventeenth Century manse called Church House.

Apparently my grandfather lost this in a game of cards; it’s a medical center now.

Johnno shook his head.

This could’ve been yours? I told him how badly I didn’t want a pile of expenses like that when I had a perfectly serviceable drafty castle thank you.

We had lunch in a seafront hotel and watched the winter seas wash across the breakwaters. You could tell how cold it was, snow lay on the sand right down to the tide line, a few gulls waddled in the shallows but most life had withdrawn indoors. I drove the sea front road to Bognor Regis around the bay and took the back lanes in four wheel drive joining the lane in front of Roger’s family spread and minutes later in the gate, I parked by the bridge and we went into the gate tower.

There were bare places on some uniforms I noticed and it took a microsecond to realize; the Canada flashes had come down and the ‘D’ badge was appearing in place of trade badges formerly worn as allowed by fleet in their memorandum to me. Sir Kevin had sent a signal as soon as he heard the news from his Lordship; ‘Please run establishment as usual, other rates to display ‘D’ in place of trade patch. Yrs. S. K.’

The rest of Sunday we lolled about making suggestions to Johnno about Christmas and memorizing our lines for the panto’ which nearly drove him mad because he couldn’t concentrate while two different things were going on at the same time, his ‘Puff’ routines were catching up to him.

My part in the play was simple; do battle with two of the Sheriff’s men armed with spears and shields wearing ‘Lincoln Green’ and swinging a stick while Santa makes his delivery by swinging from the tree into the hall. (Mac had rigged a special rope for that).

Once more TiJean would narrate in his monk’s robes and the rest of us had roles as various members of the ‘Merry Men, but in our hospital skit we were destined to carve each other up with rubber knives.

The 21st of December jumped on us from behind a bush and before we knew it, the busses began arriving from the various married patches. The first bus disgorged the Prendergast twins followed by their parents, the Commander back from Singapore.

Good to meet you, I’m about to become your Flight Officer, when your ship converts to ‘Lynx’ next year, really looking forward to it. Amanda has told me all about your group’s rescue of our son, who was the woman? He was referring to Madge who had been one of the team who pulled his son from an abandoned tin mine.

I waved to Maid Marion and she hove to. Hey Tiger, you’re walkin’.

Madge led the children away to the courtyard and the monk; I led the Prendergasts up the side stairs to my flat and a bumper of Scotch.

Here’s how, I’ve just signed for Her Majesty’s Navy.

The décor was a bit different and I could tell they were aghast at the swords and armor hanging around so I decided to let them in on my life a bit and told them about our fortunes at sea and my tenure in the castle.

… and so for the nautical side of things I have my schooner down in the harbor and means enough to run the place on my own if I want, but I’ve got things to offer the Navy and we see eye to eye, I’m happy.

We looked down on the courtyard, Friar TiJean was telling the story of Christmas in Sherwood Forest,

Eh the winter he was cold, an’ some orphan got no shoes… Johnno’ clanked by trailing a string of children’s shoes and followed by the terrible trio in rags and barefoot bawling for shoes. At the door, the retainers turned the ‘Orphans’ back and suddenly Santa swung down from the tree clutching a sack of goodies. The retainers cut him off and seized the sack, my cue.

Scuse me Santa needs me. I dashed down the stairs and out into the courtyard swinging my stave hollering, At you, at you, and beating the spears and shields with my stick allowing Santa to slip past and into the hall. By this time the children were clamoring for Robin Hood.

Dashing as Errol Flynn, Snowy defeated the evil Sheriff and the ‘orphans’ got shoes while the children got a huge feast served to them by crew dressed as medieval servants down to colors and identical cotte and hose, they were impressed especially when Peter paraded in dressed as good king Richard and passed out pound notes.

Some of our musicians then played Christmas carols on wood flutes and clarinet while the trio along with the rest of the Wrens trimmed the tree and Mac added logs to the fire. Last thing, Santa hauled gifts out of the sack and called out names, this year the kiddies got a gift that they wanted from the ‘Dragons’ thanks to Madge and her sister in-law Madeline doing the calls to every parent of every kid coming to the ‘Pantomime’.

Ranulf Prendergast was established money and we seemed like old friends although we’d never met.

Lord Dunstable and I went to Eton together; I’ve been on at him to get me a draft here ever since getting a letter from Brian Hardcastle about you. Amanda’s happy; we’ll be together most nights now.

It transpired they lived on the other side of the village toward Bognor Regis, Mrs. Prendergast liked cats. Our conversation and get together ended as the screaming hordes of children emerged from the tour toting ‘Dragon’ lunch boxes.

With a pile of cards in my tray I was set for the holiday and for once was looking forward to it. Yates came puffing up,

From Paris sir and top level.

He grinned as I signed the signals book.

Very glad you’re staying sir.

I looked at the flimsy,

Please come over for New Years, C. Lavendre Adm.

The last of the busses of happy kiddies left and the cadets were away on Christmas leave. There was just the staff and an impromptu jam session broke out around the piano. I asked Armand to get out the Italian bubbly and we proceeded to become festive. Jerry and Armand began a crib game that turned into a mini-series as we punished the wine and toasted each other for a year well done. Johnno and McRae had worked out some awards for nearly everything which turned into another one of his elaborate schemes to get us all inebriated, thank you number one.

The previous summer on ‘Gambler’ was a memory and brought back when George and two of the walking wounded showed up with nowhere else to go for the holidays, we made them welcome as family. Sykes and Iris adopted one, the soldier from Foam Lake who took a dozen rounds in too many places for comfort, he was walking now. Marc and Nicole were very close to George and they had always been together on the ship as George learned foot fighting techniques from them.

On Friday we had the official vote on Tri-Service and the signed forms were taken by Stone to include with the forms from the RN that sealed the deal and made us officially Royal Navy.

I spliced the mainbrace to celebrate the occasion and we opened the hall to the various wardrooms around the area, taking in waifs as Maude called them the year before.

The lady herself had flown to Paris to spend the holiday in Bordeaux chez Delacroix with her son, Rollo the commander of the French ‘Crusader’ Dragons.

Having been ‘boarded and taken’ as Roger put it, the various wardroom representatives put their cases for return visits, we welcomed a challenge and the night bid fair to resound with laughter and music. Our chef Craig had toiled under Johnno’s tutelage to render the most authentic medieval food and drink, the various musicians and singers had practiced for weeks, now we could entertain.

Armand and Joe brought the house down to start when they did a clever routine where a man needed to show a policeman his license. The policeman played by Joe asked him to show him his driving permit and the man played by Armand hauled out things like a shotgun, a suitcase, a bucket of water and a ringing telephone which he handed to the policeman as he dug out a cake, a dove, a flute and a picture frame.

For our lighting we employed sconces on the walls above the fireplace keeping the floor area dim for the performers to be seen more like they would have hundreds of years before. As the magic show wrapped up the choir appeared on the minstrel’s gallery to sing in Latin while the four jugglers in monk’s robes lit the chandeliers.

The lit up tables now began to receive platters of food in the medieval method of a hot dry food followed by a meat and washed down with beer or wine.

We did not follow the original menus verbatim but used creative thinking and that was Craig’s specialty, he made sauces as close to original as he could, wine sauces abounded. There were four kinds of wine and the first keg of beer from Randy Thorn’s micro-brewery.

Mac had advised us on which Saint’s day it was, an Irish priest named St. James of Kiltie for delivering the word to the flock in Ireland. To propitiate the faith across the Irish Sea we added Bushmill’s whiskey to the ‘Figgy Duff’

The spirit of the festive season spread out for the remaining weekend through Christmas Eve and caroling round the village in our medieval garb. The local pub was occupied at last orders where Roger and I stood the populace a round of cheer endearing the landlord for life.

On Christmas morning the whole establishment attended the early session in the churches of choice, returning to find the Queen’s Naval Archers and Voluntary Yeomen taking care of business in the catering division. Craig and ‘Bow Wave’ dressed in cook’s whites led a team of Elizabethan Sailors to greatness assembling a feast to remember and stacking all in readiness in the pantry.

All the tables sported ‘Dragon’ linen in alternating red and green, the white Beleek porcelain and dinner ware making the seasonal triad of color. Holly and Ivy hung in swathes from the beams with the occasional sprig of oak and mistletoe, the Christmas tree was decorated and lit up and the fire roaring.

Standing as the last person was seated; I gave them my best Christmas speech.

Ladies and gentlemen unaccustomed as I am to giving orders; I now command this company to; eat, drink, and be merry, a very happy Christmas to you all.

Turkey and pheasant adorned the cutting boards where carvers laid sliced portions on serving platters for delivery to the table. Silver dishes of vegetables and fruit were passed down each row of tables along with bread, wine and beer. The waiters now served the meat and sauces so each guest had the experience of being well looked after.

When the diners were pushing back their plates a sugar loaf peacock was placed in the center of the high table, the thing was made almost entirely of marzipan and covered with a colored sugar glaze to give the appearance of a peacock Nicole and Craig had labored for hours, it was gorgeous. When Dinty had photographed it the ‘Buffer’ whacked it in half with a cutlass and ‘Marchpane’ was dished out with liquid chocolate in tiny cups to drink or pour over the almond paste. Just used to this, flaming puddings and confections began arriving along with dishes of nuts, bottles of sherry and selections of cheese. Then the present swapping went on, some very clever Wrens had gone shopping at the last minute so as to include our three army friends in the custom. Not having family at this time of year can be daunting not to mention a wee bit depressing so we spread the cheer.

I received; books, clothing including a warm duffel coat, accessories for my Land Rover, a new mail shirt and gauntlets with improved scales to protect the fingers. Not to mention the crew’s collective gift, a completely restored 1949 Vincent Black Shadow, the best motorcycle ever built. I was very grateful looking down at the bike gleaming blue-black and nickel plated with better brakes than most cars and capable of speeds over 125 mph.

Our collective gift to Mac was the Russian motorcycle combination, a ‘Dnieper’ made in the image of a 1930’s BMW sidecar combination. We had painted it chrome yellow, his favorite color; he was a bit taken aback at first but very pleased with it.

For the mechanically minded I furnished the shop with a boring machine for rifling barrels or honing cylinders and a stock of steel to manufacture any worn parts.

A card from Triumph in Maidstone arrived assuring us the twenty Tiger 500 Daytona motorcycles would arrive in January as ordered in our colors with a chrome dragon on the side covers on navy blue paint.

To wrap up the day Brian Hardcastle arrived at Yeovilton on a hop from Iceland bringing a case of Canadian Club for the diehards of the midnight card school. He and Ranulf Prendergast would form our air wing and begin training on the ‘Sea Lynx’ helicopters we would inherit two of in February.

On the ‘Gambler’ Rejean Houle had gutted the wardroom and welded in the bulkheads for a new radio shack below the old one which was soon to become part of a hangar for the helicopters. Randy Thorn had made a team of radio operators and electricians, and they moved the radios and tape equipment, sound studio and all, one deck down.

Just like a mini dockyard the construction team would begin strengthening the deck to receive aircraft and mount the bear trap winching. A square trunking would make a column in the center of the saloon giving access to the winch for maintenance, and the conversion gave the impetus to design a more seaworthy bar.

In the New Year there were plans to install collapsible railings and rigging for safety nets and by February be ready to receive aircraft. However I pined for a sea cruise in Northern Dragon and wasn’t fussy if it sleeted or snowed, as luck would have it the new cadets would sea-qualify in January while the ‘Gambler’ was in refit. Sir Kevin came to my rescue when he called on Friday.

Captain Leywood, you should put up your fourth ring and take some leave. It’s been twenty seven months since you last signed your paybook, Lieutenant Commander Saunders can look after any details, why not take a fortnight on your boat and train those cadets of yours.

At breakfast on St. Stephan’s day I informed my staff of the Admiral’s call.

…And so I’ll be off to my tailors before going for dinner at the manor. It’s just more gold on the sleeve, my original orders stand, I’ll need six volunteers to man the ship and train the twenty cadets, but someone must stay to assist Roger for the next two weeks.

CHAPTER TWO: French Leave

Titles can be misleading, that is to say I was on leave, and to use my time wisely, I called Corbet and advised him we would tie up in Dieppe for the morning of the thirty first and I would go to Paris with Madge and TiJean. I asked them,

Which bike do you want to have?

Right off they chose the Lightning with its dashing red paint and flamboyant side panels of chrome on the gas tank.

Happy Christmas to you both, it’s yours.

The crew stowed the bikes in the cuddy hold and stored ship, our cadets trooped aboard, they’d only heard about the ship and now they were on it, and working from the first moment under ReJean’s direction. Mac flashed up the diesel and we motored down on the tide.

The crew chattered excitedly about the trip even though we were just crossing the channel as it were and would only be at sea overnight, we raised sail and tacked out past Selsey Bill passing fleet units and dipping the ensign. Bill and ReJean began running the cadets up the shrouds getting them used to the ninety foot main mast and pointing out all the tackle for the sails and spars.

Dog sat in the cockpit watching the goings on with interest and commenting from time to time to me on the helm and watchful of the running feet. On the second tack we had a man overboard, quickly fetched aboard by Jim Mckeckern and dry before he knew he was wet.

The forenoon went slowly but in the main the cadets were quick to learn and Bill Mann waxed philosophical over his tot.

They’s like any green hand y’know, I took forever to get used to sailin’ and lookit me now eh. Mason laughed,

You were never green Bill, always salty behind the ears.

The cadets were amazed in the transformation of the crusty Parade Gunnery Instructor who seemed almost fatherly in his approach at sea.

They knows how te march, they’ll get sea legs.

At the turn of the middle watch we came about to pass close in to the coast of France past the Cherbourg Peninsula and up to Dieppe where a very helpful port captain welcomed us,

Welcome to France Captain Leywood, the Surete’ has made us aware of you and an escort will arrive shortly for your journey to Paris. Your crew is welcome to the city and will have a very happy New Year in Dieppe.

My Vincent was gently lowered to the dock followed by TiJean’s BSA, Johnno made up four and we mounted up for the ride as our pals from the Highway Patrol showed up all smiles.

We rode out to the edge of the Bray forest stopping at Gourney-en-Bray then lighting out for Gisors where two replacements had coffee and hot croissants waiting to thaw the frozen fingers. A pit stop and some stomping around in the parking lot to the amusement of some truckers then off to Cergy and the traffic for Paris.

An occasional blip of the siren and a flick of the lights from time to time brought us round to the Lavendre residence in less than three hours and a jubilant Admiral in the door to greet us. "Bienveneu, Mes Amis, welcome, there are lots of familiar faces; it will be a grand New Year."

We went in a staff room to change into suitable dress for a gala New Year’s Eve in the Admiral’s residence, Johnno tidied up my sash and dress sword which I would formally offer to my host before it was put away by Etienne.

He and the Thiebaults wore suits and in Madge’s case party dress from the high street in Bognor Regis, we were announced.

"Captaine Jean Leywood, commandant des ‘Dragons’ du Nord et son Aides." Charles and I embraced and did the sword thing then the introductions began…You will of course remember Commodore Stephenson; he is now on my staff.

I shook hands with my old mentor and we swapped reminiscences while he guided me through all the people I hadn’t met. Colonel Metterling was very happy to see me and wondered if I might have time for a visit soon.

Herr Colonel, It will be a great pleasure to do so. Kurt Wein and I were planning a trip in April for the very purpose.

The fencing master was pleased to know he wasn’t forgotten and it may have been a revelation to him when I was saying goodbye later.

You and those very dedicated teachers at St. Cyr will stay with me wherever I serve and I know I speak for every soul who went there bar a few.

We nodded sagely thinking about our nemesis ‘Raffi’, a rebel arms dealer trading in nuclear weapons. ‘Raffi’ had been a classmate and had turned out bad to the core.

On New Year’s Day I stood on the dias with the Staff receiving the salute from the ‘Battalion des Etrangeurs’ my brothers in arms and fellow holders of the ‘Etoile d’Etrangeurs’ a medal formerly only given to Foreign Legion members. We became fellow recipients being rewarded for our daring removal of an atomic bomb set to destroy the east coast of Canada and the French Islands of St. Pierre-Michelon. My French comrade Rollo was beside me for the annual parade held on New Year’s Day at the ‘Arc De Triomphe’.

"Do you see trouble in Quebec mon ami? The nation is trembling for our cousins in Canada." I told him how disgusted we had become over the whole thing and let him in on our secret,

We’ve all transferred to the Royal Navy and answer to Lord Dunstable now, all the Canadiens in our bunch have decided to remain out of country until they see sense. Of course we’re quite bothered about how we might get called in to mess with our own people and couldn’t stomach the idea. The Frenchman pondered that for a while.

You could, of course come to live in France at any time, and the MBE would not be a problem. Do you think you might come for ‘Bastille Day’?

I laughed and said that if I could I’d bring the whole crew and give them a proper parade to remember similar to the thing we did in Montreal but we had some ideas about a platoon of French Grenadiers made up of Dragons but dressed in period costume, he liked the idea.

The germ of an idea was building, a drill team run by Armand and Bill could be fearsome to behold and there were contests all over Europe, currently the US Marines led the score and they worried about us, I had heard the scuttlebutt.

There was a bit of a reception, just a few hundred people and too many names to remember but we lived and rode out of Paris. Just after dark we rolled to a stop at the gangway in Dieppe and unfolded the icy limbs toting saddlebags. While the crew hoisted the bikes back into the cuddy hold and lashed them in. In my cabin we toasted the night and went out to have kye with the evening watch while TiJean and Madge related their experiences with the rest of the crew.

Johnno asked, Where to next ‘Skipper’ there’s still eleven days leave, the forecast is good for the North Sea, we could go to Edinburgh. I thought, ‘Three days to Edinburgh, a couple days leave for the lads and a leisurely cruise back to duty.’

Righto number one make it so.

Quietly the Northern Dragon slipped out of Dieppe in the evening watch, the cadets making sail in the light of the deck lanterns and the mast head light. Making our course by radar we sailed up the Channel toward Dover and made a course for Lowestoft after passing the outbound ferry at two in the morning.

Lieth docks beckoned and we slipped in and tied up on the outer arm, a couple frigates lay opposite and signaled a welcome.

Johnno and I strolled over to get acquainted,

Gibraltar rules sir?

Nodding, I led the way up the gangway of the inboard ship to the welcoming committee, a smiling Lieutenant Commander I’d met the previous year on one of Captain Fitch’s wardroom crawls.

John Leywood, a Captain already you’re on the way up I’d say.

I shook hands,

Good to see you again Gerry, have you met my number one? Lieutenant Larry Johnstone, meet Lieutenant Commander Gerry Frobisher. Gerry, is Neville still in command? The aforementioned stepped into the wardroom and welcomed me

Ah Leywood, I see Gerry netted you. What’s up here? Not business over the holiday I hope.

Upon learning we were on leave, the wicked plan was set for our demise. Mac and Mason arrived, thirst intact and we set to making them believe they were drinking us under the table. A careful tip and the wardroom stewards were double pouring their own officers believing we wanted to pay for the cheer with the fabled ‘prize money’ the Dragons were famous for. Amazingly the trick worked smoothly aboard both ships even though a Subbie from the second ship had come over to see why we were taking so long, I took the lad under my wing.

Well Tim, how d’you like the Andrew then, champagne?

For the reader: The term Andrew refers to one of the RNs original founding fathers Lord Andrew Greygoe and has been the second name of the naval service as much as the Aussies call it ‘Pussers’. Admiral Greygoe is also the inventor of the boat cloak and the slicker as well as being responsible for the introduction of the daily rum issue known fondly as ‘tot time’.

In his own wardroom Tim slipped into the settee and dozed right through happy hour passing unnoticed while his shipmates fell for the double pour we had mastered in Gibraltar, getting even for their tender mercies last year. We had a nice lunch amid the chaos of ‘Dido’s wardroom and then repaired to Northern Dragon in good order.

Quite jolly, I joined the crew at coffee and cards for the afternoon yarning with Johnno about the Gatineau’s trip here four years earlier and the electricians trying to take the castle.

I wonder if ‘Gagger’s on leave. What was the name of that pub Dave? He chuckled. Didn’t you tell ‘Grumps’ we’d never make it to the castle?

At 16:00 I sent the cadets ashore with most of the crew and sat in my cockpit with the cat and a coffee and watched a small red-bearded man enter the dockyard and head for the ship. I shouted down the hatch,

Hey Dave come up and see who is here.

‘Gagger’ came down to the saloon to visit and we talked about Johnno’s fishing expedition and some of the local humor around Skye with ‘Gagger’s story about the event.

They were a’ in th’ pub when th’ shooting happened, half of them were happy and half of them were terrified for the polis. Two of them crawled out the bathroom window and the third man got firmly stuck and they had to call the local constable, him bein’ the only person wi’ tools, an’ they dismantled the window frame. Turned out he was wanted for not payin’ a parking fine from his last trip tae the courts in Glasgow.

Dave asked ‘Gagger’ about his submarine’s recent trip to Ungava Bay.

Th’ weather’s queer there, when it isn’t snowin’ it’s too windy to fish and everyone lives indoors. The pubs are a’ full with fishermen and the odd prospector. They was real surprised when your lot showed up in this sailing ship and a’ the men came ashore, went right past the pub and up the hill an’ not even a wave.

He went on to describe the ice and snow covered rocks that were their environment for ten horribly long days. The peak of the experience was Madge’s construction of a warm place to sleep under a cliff suspended in a tent on a tarp lashed to the rocks and tree roots.

TiJean and Madge along with Johnno and Winters had shown the Royal Marines a real good time and Sean hadn’t done any boat work, not so much as lifted an oar. They had crawled across the Ungava Peninsula and were picked up near Camp Tupivic by cutter and ferried out past the ice floes and islands of polar ice cap floating around, to the ship and some heat.

Being steam heated, the Northern Dragon didn’t suffer from the damp cots and moldy clothes so often found on sailing vessels, sailors pined for a draft like this; I was privileged to own her. Nights in port were a treat but we wanted the pub we’d sang in last time and, bowing to pressure ‘Gagger’ escorted us to his old local.

Walter Scrimgeour welcomed us like royalty; four years had not dulled his memory one bit.

Ach Captain, its right good of ye tae think of us Sean is proud tae be servin’ under ye, he’s a’right now?

I put him at ease.

Your son is right now in charge of the guard under the gunnery officer, these are my officers; Larry Johnstone is the first lieutenant, Dave Mason is Navigator, Allan McRae is the cultural officer, and Bill Mann is the gunnery and deck boss, Sean’s divisional officer. Over here is Al McConnell the engineer and the NCOs are starting to arrive, may we buy a keg or two?

I introduced Sean’s father to all of his son’s contemporaries, he was surprised to find that there were women in our bunch and ‘Gagger’ pointed out Madge as the best mountain guide in the Navy. Madge informed Walter that his son was perfectly safe in the modern navy then introduced TiJean as her husband. With free ale in abundance, Johnno’s nature got the better of him and he soon had some of the regulars chanting ‘Puff’ and repeating ridiculous phrases while quaffing ale amiably and joining in the laughter.

Eh Jean I’m glad we come here, las’ time I got so drunk I forget to see the place at all. TiJean was enjoying the Edinburgh evening as much as he possibly could.

‘Gagger’ had made some calls, his sister showed up and found Dave who had danced his way across Europe and her parlor,

Why there you are after all these years, are you still playing ‘Fred Astaire’?

My navigation officer stood like a stone. Oh well I guess it was still in the air up here in Scotland for Hogmany, I wondered how many more would succumb.

Some musicians arrived, it was a good thing too because Dave was out of range for the moment, the two of them at a table in the back. In about as much time as it takes to tune up, a quartet of musicians started to play led by McRae on his tin whistle and Dorn playing a bodran, they were joined by a chaunter and guitar.

With the laughter, music and romance it was shaping up to be a memorable January evening, as the music became danceable more folks drifted to the rear of the pub where the tables were pulled back to the wall for the purpose.

TiJean asked,

You want Fish and chips Jean? I see the place over there eh.

I asked if he’d seen any cod over there and he laughed.

"That’s a ‘Puff’ for you; I drink an' get the chips, non?"

Downing his pint and collecting ReJean and Madge from the dance floor, he went out to find food for us all, returning with stacks of newsprint rolls containing chips, fish and some fried oysters. Our host produced a stack of paper plates and we shared out the provender, the musicians took a break and some more beer found its way out of the barrel.

Conversation took over where the music left off and several subjects at once broke free, a local asked ReJean what he thought about the FLQ just beginning to make waves in Quebec.

"They all think that if Quebec is a sovereign nation the problems will disappear. Of course a revolution will bring out the worst