Grounded Eagles

28 November 1943
 

There were two telephone booths in the lobby of the NYDN centre. Kit closed himself inside one and put a call through to Ashcroft Park. The Butler answered, and Kit recognized his voice from many visits. “Mr. Crowther? It’s me Kit.”

“Mr. Moran?” Crowther sounded surprised, almost shocked. Surely, he couldn’t have heard he’d been posted LMF already?

“Yes, I’d like a word with Mrs. Selkirk, please.”

“Mrs Selkirk is in mourning, sir. She is not taking phone calls.”

“Please tell her who it is and that there’s something I’d like to tell her.”

“I shall make inquiries, sir. One moment.”

It seemed to take a long time, but finally Kit heard muttering and then Colonel Selkirk spoke at the other end of the line. “Moran?”

“Yes, Colonel, I wanted to—”

“Is it true you’ve been posted LMF?” An outraged voice demanded on the other end of the line. Before Kit could answer, the Colonel continued indignantly. “I called the station to find out if you were all right and hoping you could give me more details regarding Don’s last flight. You can’t imagine my astonishment — no, my shock — to hear you had turned lily-livered and refused to fly further ops!”

“Sir, I’d like to explain about that, but not over the telephone. I feel this is something best said face to face—”

“Absolutely not! Selkirks do not socialize with cowards, Mr. Moran. It’s bad enough that you’re yellow, but, now, after Don has made the ultimate sacrifice? No, absolutely not! The sight of you would be offensive. Can’t you see that you are dishonouring everything Don lived and died for? You demean his memory by scorning his sacrifice. I won’t have you in this house ever again, and I don’t want you contacting Mrs Selkirk either. She is understandably distraught, the sight of you basking in your survival-through-desertion would be too much!”

Kit recognised that it was hopeless. The sense of belonging and support had been an illusion. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into the torrent of indignation. “I would have liked to explain….” Colonel Selkirk wasn’t listening. Kit replaced the receiver and listlessly turned away. There was no safe harbour, and his last lifeline was severed. He was foundering.