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For What Its Worth - Keyes

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---For Whats Its Worth - Part 4

For What Its Worth - Part Four (Letterstime Fiction/Keyes)
Paris, June 1915

"The Ambassador will see you now, Commodore."

Roger Keyes looked up. For the first several minutes after arriving at the British embassy in Paris and requesting a meeting he had buried himself studying the ornate furniture and darkening portraits that adorned the starkly resplendent ante-room, a place he felt represented the mindset of the British Empire perfectly. Such diversions, however, had not occupied the bulk of the waiting period. As he feared was becoming a habit his mind had ranged back over the Dardanelles campaign - the lost opportunities at the start, Admiral Carden's breakdown, the hopes soon turned sour, the losses during the bombardment, and the oh-so-costly landing, the uboats came … From what he had heard since his departure from Mudros on the cruiser Endymion things were not getting any better now that the decision had been made to evacuate and withdraw. It could all have been so much different …

"Commodore?", the aide broke through his thoughts which had begun to circle back upon themselves. Thirty-six hours without sleep was beginning to catch up with him.

"I apologise" Keyes said humbly.

The aide led him up the curve of the stairs and to a plain but heavy wooden door. He knocked loudly.

"Please come in."

Sir Francis Bertie, first Lord Bertie of Thame and a younger son of the Earl of Abingdon was sat behind a solid but practical desk of some dark, probably South American, wood. He rose as the naval officer entered and extended a hand across the mass of folders and papers which cluttered his desk, albeit in a most orderly fashion.

"Commodore Keyes, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"And I you, Mr Ambassador", Keyes sat himself down upon the strategically-placed red-velveted chair as the aide closed the door behind him on his exit.

"A pleasure, yet" Sir Francis' face puckered with all of his sixty-plus years as thoughts behind his visage began to seep through and weaken the veneer he usually put on, "If only it was not in these circumstances."

"I understand, sir" Keyes assured him, his eyes flickering to the portrait of King George V behind the veteran ambassador, "I was wondering", he ventured, "if you had precise details of the Battle of Skaggerak. My orders were couched in the most general terms."

"Indeed" Sir Francis steepled his fingers on the desk, his clear, cold eyes appearing to address the door behind the Commodore, "A courier brought such information. The government believed it best I be in possession of the true facts . . . owing to my delicate position as principal liaison with the French government."

Keyes ignored the proffered avenues of a discussion on current Anglo-French relations, and continued to press his point.

"Are you in a position to advise me?" he asked bluntly.

Sir Francis shortened his gaze from the door to the man, apparently summing him up in a heartbeat. He nodded shortly.

"I do not wish to pre-empt the formal briefing but it is important that you know the facts."

"Thank you" Keyes looked at him, a spark of pure enquiry in his eyes.

Sir Francis sighed and sat back in his chair, "Very well" he agreed, "I will impart the information that has come my way."

Keyes was silent as he waited for the Ambassador to go on. After a brief pause, Sir Francis understood this and began …

"It was truly a defeat" Sir Francis spoke in a monotone voice, "Even at best estimates our losses are over twice that of the Germans."

"That bad?" Keyes could not but help his strangulated interruption, "Is this known for sure?"

"I have figures from the Admiralty" Sir Francis said without apparent emotion, "The toll of British losses is :- 10 dreadnought battleships, 5 dreadnought cruisers, 4 armoured cruisers, 3 light cruisers, 32" he grimaced at the number, "destroyers and in this 5 admirals and 2 commodores."

"Men?" asked Keyes, moving at once to the crux of the issue. Ships could be replaced - WOULD be replaced given the strength of British industry. Leaders could be substituted by men of lower rank but quite possibly keener mettle - such as himself. But a warship needed a trained crew…"

"Sixteen thousand seven hundred and twenty two" Sir Francis addressed a tiny area of clear wood upon his desk, "Some will be prisoners - but not many…"

"SIXTEEN thousand?!" Keyes almost jumped out of his chair, "You are sure this information is certain?"

"I regret to say, but yes"

"Good God" Keyes muttered, all but unaware of the blasphemy, "And what did we do in return?"

For once, perhaps the first time in his life, Sir Francis looked sheepish. He made an effort to compose himself, balling his fist and regarding it with apparent surprise.

"The Admiralty estimates six battleships sunk, perhaps four of them dreadnoughts, as well as the armoured cruiser Blucher, three light cruisers and probably twenty destroyers."

"Six?!" Keyes all but spluttered, "If that is the Admiralty's best estimate…"

"Then" Sir Francis finished for him, "things are truly as bad as they would seem."

"Good God" Keyes muttered, staring down between his legs at the plush carpet, "Dear God…"

"Commodore…" Sir Francis tried but failed to find some words of comfort.

"Mr Ambassador" Keyes countered by dragging his eyes from the floor and meeting those of his host, "You said seven flag officers were killed?"

"Yes…" Sir Francis sounded hesitant, almost unwilling to commit himself.

"May I ask their names?"

"Of course", for a moment Sir Francis referred to a piece of paper beside a bulging file, though to say true he knew this list by heart now - he just did not trust himself to enunciate it, "Vice Admiral Sturdee, Rear Admirals Arbuthnot, Leveson, Heath and Duff. Commodores Sinclair and Hawksley."

"Hawksley?" Keyes echoed in despair, "He was one of the best."

"As are you, sir" the Ambassador reminded him.

Keyes stunned by the numbers and the names only stared at the man. After a supreme effort of will to reassert himself he asked, "And what remains?"

Sir Francis at last let his eyes flicker from his clearly distressed guest.

"Eleven dreadnought battleships remain operational, but no dreadnought cruisers. I would expect older ships to reinforce the fleet…"

"And Warspite is probably worked up now" Keyes added his own corollary, "Sixteen and a half thousand ! Add to that the shells that must have been fired…"

"I am instructed to inform anybody who asks that the Grand Fleet remains ready for sea and that the weight of the Empire stands behind it."

For a long moment Keyes looked at aristocratic ambassador, then he nodded, the worry fading from his face, "I understand what you are saying." he intoned.

"I believe you do" Sir Francis allowed, then repeated himself, "I believe you do, sir."

But Keyes was no longer listening . . .

By Jon' N. Davies

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