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GeneralHannibal said:Yikes, looks like a BUF gov't is in the works
Yes, yes indeed it does.... what sort of government will they be?
To All: Unfortunately I have been occupied with an even bigger (and more un-believable) work of fiction as of late... yes my CV. I had an interview today so now I can concentrate on my writing... than you for your patience.
Chapter Eight
Buckingham Palace, 7th March, 1937
The rooms was light and airy, the baroque and almost gaudy red and gold furnishings and fixtures were almost overpowering. The grandeur and sense of understated power almost dripped from the ancient tapestries as the man, slightly nervously, walked toward the dais upon which the throne was placed in its splendour held the imposing figure of the King. The man approaching was Sir Oswald Mosley, he was unsure of the reaction that the ‘establishment’ would give him. The ceremony was precisely that, just a tradition, not like in the days of Queen Victoria where the monarch would quiz the candidate to see if he was someone that could be controlled. It came as quit a shock to the man then when the monarch, who had been slouching with almost distain, sprang from his recumbent position and shook Mosley’s hand with vigour.
“Ah Sir Oswald, congratulations on your recent victory. I must say that I marvelled at the way you conducted the campaign” Edward stared at the man, looking for a reaction, when it came it was what he had hopped for. “Well… sir… erm… your Majesty, its an honour to be in your presence. Please accept my humble thanks for your kind words” The words came almost gushing out of Mosley and the king knew that he had his man, he just needed to start the work on him. “I think men such as ourselves can dispense with all this ceremonial rubbish, would you care to take a walk with me Prime Minister” The words had the desired effect, Mosley now knew that he would lead the new parliament and took considerable pleasure from that.
The king lead his guest toward a waiting servant who had his smoking jacket and an already lit cigarette. They swept past a few concerned courtiers, this was not the way this was supposed to happen, however most of the King’s staff just continued to look steely eyed into the ether. As they approached the grand French windows another servant gently drew them aside allowing the King and Prime Minister to proceed onto a terrace facing over London. The night air was crisp with a bit of cold giving the winter’s usual smell of freshness and new beginnings. The stone was frosted so standing and walking were not the easy task of summer, compelling the monarch to stop at the stone parapet and lean against the cold stonework.
“So the Mosley, tell me what you have in plan for this great nation, tell me your dreams and aspirations, tell me a story!” the King’s almost poetic manner seemed to conceal a sledgehammer of inquiry in a velvet sheath. Oswald was clearly taken aback by the forthright manner, but recovered in time for him to imagine that Edward had not noticed. “Well your highness, the key for this country is peace and prosperity, peace through strength and prosperity through unity. We must forget the shackles of ‘right’ and ‘left’, ‘worker’ and ‘employer’ and ´opposition´ and ´government´.” The King was slight surprised, he did not think that he would hear such talk from a committed anti-socialist , but there was a glimmer of something in that spiel, something that he could work with. “Do you not agree with Hitler that communism is the greatest threat to world peace? It would be very unwise for us to spurn our fascist friends on the continent do you not think?” Mosley felt him snapped back from the dreams of ideals to the harsh awakening that is reality in the pragmatic world. Was the King trying to give him advise? What was more, was the King threatening him? He was clearly shocked and responded in a guarded manner. “Well obviously the benefit of syndication in the economy will mean that we can back our fascist brothers against Stalin and his evil brand of socialism, but we do not have to back them with blood, just iron” The mans inflection was clear, the Empire under Mosley would support the fascist regimes in Berlin and Rome in any way, but that of open conflict. Edward could not decide if the man was a pragmatist who saw that Italy and Germany mail fail against Russia, or an idealist whose real aim was really for world peace. In either case it did not matter to the monarch, he would have what he needed in the ´elected first among equals´, all this talk of syndication, prosperity through strength and no more opposition and government went to the heart of what Edward was striving for.
There was a short announcement on the BBC the next morning that Mosley and the British Union of Fascists would be forming a national government with selected other members of parliament. The people sensed that they had received what they wanted, a new beginning.
