CHAPTER ONE : AN EMERGENCY MEETING
Where the readers meet Luxembourg's Royals and government, and regret they could not be born Grand Dukes themselves.
Luxembourg, January the 1st, 1936
Wearing in his formal uniform, Prince Felix de Bourbon-Parme was reading the paper that had been inside the folder his aide de camp, Colonel Moreau, had just brought to him. His noble, yet open face half-masked by his left hand, which was slowly rubbing his forehead, Prince Felix was slowly digesting the problem at hand. Sitting all around him in the Great Hall of the Ducal Palace, the ministers of the Grand Duchy remained silent, respecting the Prince's meditation. While his title of Prince Consort of the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg didn't entail any real responsibility, he felt it was his duty to help Grand Duchess Charlotte shoulder the responsibilities History had seen fit to burden her with.
Also, as he had quickly discovered, it always impressed the chicks at every embassy party he had gone to.
"Four letters, begin with a "W"... Moves the weathercock" mumbled the prince "Moves the weathercock...four letters"
"Oh, for crying out loud, your Highness !" finally exploded Foreign Minister Joseph Bech. Everybody in the diplomatic scene knew Bech as an ideology-driven crusader, which made him only one step above travelling salesmen and telemarketers. That reputation made Bech probably one of the most feared man in Europe, and certainly the last one to be invited to any kind of fun party.
"It's 'wind' ! See ? Four letters, begins with 'w', moves the weathercock, that's 'wind' !"
Looking up from the crosswords of the "European Grand Duchies Quarterly" January issue, Prince Felix flashed a bright smile at his Foreign Minister.
"My goodness, Bech, it is 'wind' indeed ! Now we're making serious progress !"
"Jolly good work, your Highness ! Now if you may kindly give us your full attention for a while" politely asked Joseph Bech, the Prime Minister, whose optimistic and jovially naive nature made him probably one of the most loved men in Europe, and certainly one of the most schizophrenic.
Joseph Bech, Prime Minister, Foreign Minister, and full-time lunatic.
"Ah, yes, of course" said Prince Felix, as always impressed by Bech's multiple personnalities."I understand you wanted to broach important issues, upon which the future of the Grand Duchy, and maybe of all Europe, might hinge ?"
"Absolutely" said one of the Bechs. "Your Highness, our Duchy is in great peril, as fate has us placed between three countries which are bound to find themselves embroiled in a war soon. First, we happen to be the neighbor of a sinister empire, whose leaders have enslaved millions and whose expansionist policy put European peace at risk !"
"Well, yes" said Prince Felix. "These Germans really are up to no good, and..."
"I was talking about FRANCE !!!" said Bech, slamming his fist on the table and waking up Industry Minister Pierre Dupong.
"France ?" asked Interior Minister Norbert Dumont, puzzled. "My dear Joseph, are you sure your files are up to date ? I'm pretty sure France is a democracy, you see, and..."
"Oh shut up you bleating Francophile !" spat Bech "A democracy, yeah, all right, and maybe you'll tell me the Vietnamese voted to become a colony, too ?"
"Ha ! As if a certified lunatic could tell the difference between democracy and a jar of pickles !"
"Gentlemen, please !" said the Prince, raising his voice, and fighting back a sudden desire to see if 6-across wasn't, per chance, 'Anatolia'. It felt right, although he was a little unclear as to how it could be 'Romeo's star-crossed lover', but maybe there was a little
double-entendre somewhere. The Prince didn't like
double-entendre all that much, as he sometimes found
single-entendre was already difficult enough.
"Anyway, your Highness, as if that monstrous and decadent empire wasn't dangerous enough for our nation, we also happen to have
another tyranny as our neighbor. This one is inflicting monstrous treatment on its own population, and has in the past shown a clear tendency to territorial expansion"
"Ah, yes" said Prince Félix. "
That's the Germans alright, and I can tell you that at the German ambassador's going-away party..."
"I'm sorry, your Highness, I was referring to Belgium !" said Bech, his eyes glowing with anger.
"Oh. Alright, colonial empire, I can see that. And they did take land from us 100 years ago. But what about the monstrous treatment of its own population, if I may ask ?"
"Sire ! How would you call forcing half of them to speak French for starters !" bellowed Bech.
"All right, this time you're going to get a big bloody nose, you German bootlicker" bellowed Norbert Dumont, taking his jacket off and proceeding to climb on the table to reach whatever Bech he could punch first.
"Will you please stop that nonsense !" yelled Prince Felix, exasperated. He had checked surreptitiously, and it wasn't 'Anatolia'. He now suspected it could be 'A lukewarm plateful of haddock', but he'd have to check that one in the dictionnary, and Colonel Moreau had yet to find a way to discreetly pass him a dictionnary inside a red folder during cabinet meetings.
At the low end of the table, General Alex Federspiel rose, slamming both fists on the table in a desperate attempt to out-stage Bech and bring some semblance of order to the meeting. As a matter of fact, General Federspiel was a renowned two-fist table slammer, and had even won the gold medal in the 1914-1918 Table Slamming contest at the Allied General Headquarters in Paris. And if that wasn't enough to make General Federspiel one of the most feared officers in Europe, he was also completely deaf, which only made him even more resolute in the face of bad news and Offenbach light operas.
"
Gentlemen ! Will we let History say that in the Grand Duchy's darkest hour, in the time of our gravest peril, we did let our petty quarrels obscure our better judgement ?"
"Not if I can find where she lives first, we won't" muttered Nicholas Marque, head of the dreaded Luxembourg Intelligence.
"Shut up Nick, and that also means you two Bechs, and you, Norbert. You're right, General." said Prince Félix. "We certainly can't let History say that. This is an emergency meeting, after all !"
"I'm sorry, it is ?" asked a puzzled Dupong.
"Yes, Pierre, I'm afraid it is" sighed the Prince. "Look at the title of this chapter. The big, orange letters."
"Oh. Oh. I see it now. Sorry about that"
"I gather from the information our various agencies have gathered that since the beginning of the Abyssinian crisis, Europe is heading for war"
"For a bloody
cat ?" mused Pierre Dupong, still not completely up to speed with current events. Pierre Dupong had made a fortune for himself by coining the phrase "laissez-faire capitalism". It was rumored he had invented it in its sleep, which seemed pretty likely to anyone who knew him.
Pierre Dupong, in one rare moment of wakefulness
"As we all know" insisted Ministry of Non-Agressive War General Federspiel, raising his voice to cover Dupong's, "Germany had expressed some territorial ambitions that will, sooner or later, bring it in conflict with France and England, as those two countries will defend the countries threatened by the Third Reich"
"Oh, yeah, and I'm sure 500 million Indians just organized a referendum to become part of the British Empire, eh ?"
"Oh, just wait until the meeting is over, you Kraut-loving fun-sponge"
"Must have been a very expensive purebred cat, don't you think, for Italy to go to war about it" ?
"Shut up, Bech, whichever you are, shut up, all of you !" snapped Prince Félix, feeling the usual urge to jump out of the window and run away. "So, General, if I understand you well, there is a very clear and present danger of war. And of course we should prepare for it. Well, what can you tell us about our preparation ? What state is our army in ? Oh, sorry.
I SAY, WHAT STATE IS OUR ARMY IN ?"
Non-Aggresive War Minister Alex Federspiel, Europe's Table-Slamming champion.
"Your Highness, Lt General Maupert, our senior field officer, recently told me he felt like an army of one"
"Excellent ! Now that is what I call fighting spirit, General !
THAT'S WHAT I CALL SHOWING GOOD FIGHTING SPIRIT !"
"Unfortunately, your Highness, it was not a slogan but a comment."
"Ah. Dang.
I SAID, AH"
"He made after a roll-call"
"Oh"
"This very morning"
"Ouch. Look, General, everybody, I want our beloved nation to be fully prepared in case of a general conflict.
AND SO I HEREBY INSTRUCT YOU, GENERAL, TO IMMEDIATELY START RECRUITING SOLDIERS. I want us to start building a division of riflemen, a force of infantry" said Prince Félix, scribbling furiously on an official notepad, because even a short conversation with general Federspiel could make a man's throat go beyond sore and into permanent loss of voice. That, among other things we'll soon discover, made Luxembourg one of the most feared nations in Europe, usually immediately after Andorra.
