Part XXI
"How right those soldiers were!" Montbel continued. "As the train rushed south I could only think of was Italian armies smashing though the lightly guarded Alps, so recently stripped of troops to guard Paris they were achingly vulnerable." Montbel paused.
"I know such fears seem ridiculous to modern ears, particularly in light of later events, but at the time we had no idea what Prime Minister Balbo would do. We feared he was just continue the policies of his unlamented predecessor."
As Montbel expounded on his old fears the listeners reminisced about their visit to Rome all those years ago. The trenchcoat focused on the sensual; the rich food, the outstanding wines and most of all the diary secretary with the deep blue eyes and oh so usefully loose lips. Such a shame they had been ordered to tie up the loose ends before leaving the Eternal City.
The heavy's thoughts were of the contrasts of the trip; the hot stone of the window against the cold metal of the Mauser rifle, the noise as the crowds cheered Il Duce against the brief, but total, silence as they collectively went into shock and the bright white marble of the steps against the deep red of Mussolini's rapidly draining blood.
"How right those soldiers were!" Montbel continued. "As the train rushed south I could only think of was Italian armies smashing though the lightly guarded Alps, so recently stripped of troops to guard Paris they were achingly vulnerable." Montbel paused.
"I know such fears seem ridiculous to modern ears, particularly in light of later events, but at the time we had no idea what Prime Minister Balbo would do. We feared he was just continue the policies of his unlamented predecessor."
As Montbel expounded on his old fears the listeners reminisced about their visit to Rome all those years ago. The trenchcoat focused on the sensual; the rich food, the outstanding wines and most of all the diary secretary with the deep blue eyes and oh so usefully loose lips. Such a shame they had been ordered to tie up the loose ends before leaving the Eternal City.
The heavy's thoughts were of the contrasts of the trip; the hot stone of the window against the cold metal of the Mauser rifle, the noise as the crowds cheered Il Duce against the brief, but total, silence as they collectively went into shock and the bright white marble of the steps against the deep red of Mussolini's rapidly draining blood.