This interview is the first step in screening and everybody gets it.”
Crossley nodded. “Rory, tell us about your family life.”
“I don’t have one now, apart from my elderly parents. My dad is working himself into the ground and my mother does volunteer work in Montreal. I was married for nine years. We didn’t have any children. My wife died a few months ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Thornton said. “Of course, I knew it. I am sorry just the same. I read it in your file. How are you getting on?”
“I’m all right. It was so fast but it was still a terrible thing watching her go the way she did. I miss her tremendously. But I suppose you need to know if I’m sufficiently recovered from my grief to be of any value in operations. I think so. In fact, I think doing something will focus my mind more than it has for a while. I’m physically fit and emotionally sound. Going through the normal grieving period, I guess. Not really out of it yet.”
“Are you angry at all?” asked Harris.
“Not now. I was, but I’m pretty much over that. There was a time when I thought, ‘Why her, why us?’ But I suppose that I’ve come to accept it. It seems there’s a randomness attached to suffering and death. I don’t understand it. I never have.” He shrugged. “I don’t pretend to.”
“How do you feel about the war?”
“When I was last over here, when I returned to Germany five years ago and had a good look at the Nazis, I thought it was inevitable. I had no doubt that we were headed for another major war, and felt we should have fought sooner rather than wait and fight it on Hitler’s terms. We didn’t have the moral courage to do it then. Now, God knows where this one will end. So far, it sounds as if we’re likely to lose – at least, we’ll probably lose Europe initially. Generally, I agree with what Harris has to say. I think he’s painting the worst case, but I agree, it’s also the most probable case.”
“Do you think we should make some kind of accommodation with the Nazis? A lot of people are suggesting that. Some say that’s what Prime Minister Chamberlain is secretly holding out for. They say war has become too dangerous. We’ve too much to lose, that sort of thing. What are your thoughts on that?”
“Absolutely not. You can’t come to terms with someone who has already made up his mind that he’s going to destroy you and knows he has the power to do it. I know a lot of people here feel that somehow we can avoid a fight. The Nazis are as much a scourge as the Mongols were. They have to be stopped. Unfortunately, those who don’t see it that way are mostly wishful thinkers, and refuse to believe the truth because it means something horribly unpleasant becomes a certainty. There are a few others opposed to the war, but they’re a minority we’ll have to deal with. A few days after we declared war, we locked up the mayor of Montreal as a fascist sympathizer. Lots of people are howling over that; but if we’re going to win against these people, we have to do it with all our efforts focused.”
Crossley nodded knowingly while Thornton made a face that could have indicated perplexity or lack of interest.
Rory went on. “I really am in favour of free speech, but this is a war for survival. The time for debating has long passed. We should have acted against Hitler a long time ago. Intellectually and morally, I’ve no problem with fighting if you have a just cause. I don’t want to fight, but I believe that now we have absolutely no choice. The issues have probably never been so black and white.”
Thornton interrupted. “Ewen tells me you served in a clandestine role in Germany in the last one. You’re part German. How has that affected you?”
“I don’t think my clandestine work or having a German parent made much difference to me. I was more affected by my time in the trenches. That was a nightmare, but those of us who survived got through it.”
Rory stopped walking and looked around him. They were across the street from a bus stop and a small crowd had gathered, patiently queued up on the sidewalk. “I’ve often thought about the killing and the deaths of good men. It haunts you. I don’t think I’m different than thousands of others. I was lucky. I guess I always have been. I often wonder why I survived and others didn’t; but in the end, I survived and I was fortunate enough to get on with my life. Now, it looks like we’re going to do it all again. I don’t want to do it, but when it’s over, we have to get it right this time. The thing that angers me is that we should never have fought the Great War.”
Thornton and Crossley exchanged worried looks.
Rory shrugged his shoulders. “Sacrilege, right? I know what you’re thinking, but in hindsight we were all so foolish. The Germans, the French, the Russians, us: nobody understood what was coming. What were the great ideals we were fighting for? The Germans weren’t so different than we were in 1914. Yes, they violated Belgium’s neutrality to get at France; but they were forced to fight a two-front war. We probably would have done the same if we were buying time to prevent a Russian army from occupying our capital.”
Thornton and Crossley glanced at each other again.
“So, we all made a mess of that one. We made a mess of the peace treaty, and as a result we now have two of the most malicious and murderous ideologies in history to contend with: one in Russia and one in Germany. Unfortunately, we can’t do anything about the Russians for the time being, but they’re going to be another mortal threat to us.”
Rory stopped and looked hard, challengingly, at the two men beside him. Crossley nodded as if in reluctant agreement, but Thornton said nothing. He forced a cough, covered his mouth, and broke eye contact.
“As you both know,” Rory went on determinedly, “five years ago, I spent three months on an assignment for your previous employer. I came to London and then went on to Germany to find out information for the War Office. Like so many others, I reported at the time that Hitler and the Nazis were a deadly menace. Nobody in power listened to me or to the scores of others who returned with exactly the same report. I went back to Canada and continued to work in the RCMP. I was promoted to chief superintendent and given command of D Division in Manitoba. The rest you know… What else can I tell you?”
The two Englishmen looked at each other knowingly. “Rory,” said Thornton, “we aren’t fighting the Russians. Why are you so concerned about them?”
“The war’s expanding. Russia just occupied half of Poland. We entered the war because Germany invaded Poland. Do you think for a moment that with Russia and Germany staring at each other across an imaginary frontier in Poland, things will remain settled on that front? Hitler hasn’t moved against France yet. Ask yourselves, why hasn’t he done that? The second most hateful thing to the Nazis after the Jews is Communism. Nazism and Communism are mortal threats to each other. Sooner or later Germany and Russia are going to be at war with one another. I’d take Harris’s theory a step further. Hitler is probably biding his time, deciding whether he’s going to attack us in the west first or go after Stalin in the east.”
Both Crossley and Thornton looked annoyed and uncomfortable.
“Have either of you read Hitler’s book?” Rory asked. “It’s all in there.”
The other men looked sheepish. Thornton spoke. “We don’t read German. I know about it from what I’ve read in the papers. They say it’s not worth reading.”
“It’s not great literature, but it is Mr. Hitler’s philosophy spelled out for you. At the risk of being patronizing, I think you should read it. If our enemy has provided us with a complete overview of his philosophy and a summary of his plans, we should at least take the trouble of reading and studying what he has to say. We’re in the business of estimating what our enemy intends to do and defining our options. Several years ago, every politician, army officer, newspaper editor, and intelligence officer should have read Hitler’s book very closely. How foolish can we be? You can’t even buy a paperback translation of it anywhere; not in Britain, not in Canada, not in America. In some ways, we don’t deserve to win. Instead of making a tough decision, we’ve chosen to believe what we want to believe: that maybe