And Thereby Hangs a Tale Read online

  After a bacon sandwich and half a pint of Courage in a dockside pub, he wished his two crew members good luck before they boarded a train for Portsmouth, and he set off on the return voyage to Jersey. Robin checked his watch and reckoned he should be back in time to join Diana for breakfast.

  Robin slipped back into St. Helier before first light. He had just stepped onto the dock when the fist landed in his stomach, causing him to double up in pain and collapse onto his knees. He was about to protest when he realized that the two uniformed men who were now pinning him to the ground were not speaking English.

  He didn’t waste any time protesting as they marched him down the High Street and into the nearest police station. There was no friendly desk sergeant on duty to greet him. He was pushed roughly down a flight of stone steps before being flung into a cell. He felt sick when he saw Diana seated on a bench against the wall. She jumped up and ran to him as the cell door slammed behind them.

  “Are they safe?” she whispered as he held her in his arms.

  “Yes,” he replied. “But a spell in prison isn’t going to help my membership application for the Royal Jersey,” he remarked, trying to lighten the mood. Diana didn’t laugh.

  They didn’t have long to wait before the heavy iron door was pulled open once again. Two young soldiers marched in, grabbed Robin by the elbows and dragged him back out. They led him up the stairs and out onto an empty street. There were no locals to be seen in any direction as a curfew had been imposed. Robin assumed that he was about to be shot, but they continued to march him up the high street, and didn’t stop until they reached the Bailiff’s Chambers.

  Robin had visited the seat of local government many times in the past, as each new bailiff required his dress robes to be spotless on inauguration day, a ceremony he and Diana always attended. But on this occasion Robin was led into the front office, where he found a German officer seated in the Bailiff’s chair. One look at his crisp uniform suggested that he wasn’t going to inquire about Chapman’s services.

  “Mr. Chapman,” the officer said with no trace of an accent, “my name is Colonel Kruger, I am the new commandant for the Channel Islands. Perhaps you could start by telling me why you took Lord Trent back to England?”

  Robin didn’t reply.

  “No doubt Lord and Lady Trent are enjoying breakfast at the Ritz Hotel while you languish in jail for your troubles.” The officer rose and walked across the room, coming to a halt when the two men were standing face to face. “If you feel unable to assist me, Mr. Chapman, you and your wife will remain in jail until there is space on a ship to transport you to the Fatherland.”

  “But my wife was not involved,” Robin protested.

  “In normal circumstances, I would be willing to accept your word, Mr. Chapman, but as your wife was Lord Trent’s secretary . . .” Robin said nothing. “You will be sent to one of our less well-appointed camps, unless, of course, one of you decides to enlighten me on the reason Lord Trent needed to rush back to England.”

  Robin and Diana remained in their tiny cell for nineteen days. They were fed on bread and water, which until then Robin had always assumed was a Dickensian myth. He began to wonder if the authorities had forgotten about them.

  He managed to pick up snippets of information from those islanders who had been forced to work at the police station, but the only thing of any consequence he was able to find out was that German ships were docking at St. Helier regularly to unload more soldiers, arms, and ammunition.

  On the twentieth morning, one of their informants told them that a ship would be arriving from Hamburg the following day, and that he had seen their names on the embarkation log for its return journey. Diana wept. Robin never slept while his wife was awake.

  In the middle of the night, when they were both sleeping fitfully, the cell door was pulled open without warning. Two German soldiers stood in the doorway. One of them asked politely if Mr. Chapman would join them. Robin was puzzled by the officer’s courteous manner, and wondered if this was how German soldiers behaved just before they shot you.

  He accompanied the soldiers up the stairs. Was he being escorted to the ship? Surely not, or they would have taken Diana as well. Once again he was taken down the street in the direction of the Bailiff’s Chambers, but this time the soldiers walked by his side, making no attempt to hold onto him.

  When he entered the Bailiff’s office, Colonel Kruger looked up from behind his desk, an anxious look on his face. He didn’t waste his words. “The ship that was meant to transport prisoners to Hamburg has struck a rock just outside the harbor.” Robin wondered which brave islander had managed to remove the warning lights. “It’s sinking fast,” continued the colonel. “The lives of all those on board will be lost, including several civilians, unless the lifeboat is sent out to rescue them.” He avoided saying “my countrymen.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Colonel?” asked Robin.

  “The lifeboat crew is refusing to cast off without their head launcher, so I am asking you—” he paused—“begging you, to join them before it’s too late.”

  Strange, the things that pass through one’s mind when faced with a moral dilemma, Robin thought. He knew the directive by heart. It is the duty of every member of the RNLI to go to the aid of anyone in distress on the high seas, irrespective of their nationality, color, or creed, even if they are at war with Britain. He nodded curtly at the colonel.

  Out on the street a car was waiting, its door open, to take him to the harbor. Fifteen minutes later they cast off.

  Robin and the rest of the crew returned to Arden Rock several times that night. In all, they rescued seventy-three passengers, including eleven German officers and thirty-seven crew members. The remainder were civilians who had been selected to assist in the administration of the island. A cargo of arms, ammunition, and transport vehicles was resting on the bottom of the ocean.

  When Robin carried the last of the survivors back to the safety of the island, two German officers were waiting for him as he stepped off the lifeboat. They handcuffed him and escorted him back to the police station. As he walked into the cell, Diana smiled for the first time in days.

  When the cell door was opened the following morning, two plates of bacon and eggs, along with cups of hot tea, were laid before them by a young German corporal.

  “Last breakfast before they execute us,” suggested Robin as the guard slammed the cell door behind him.

  “It wouldn’t be hard to guess what your final request will be,” said Diana, smiling.

  A few minutes after they’d devoured their unexpected feast, another soldier appeared and told them he was taking them to the commandant’s headquarters.

  “I shall be happy to accompany you to the Bailiff’s Chambers,” said Robin defiantly.

  “We’re not going to the Connétable,” said the soldier. “The commandant has requisitioned the golf club as his new headquarters.”

  “Your final wish has been granted,” said Diana as she and Robin settled into the back seat of a staff car, which brought a puzzled expression to the young German’s face.

  When they arrived at the club, they were taken to Lord Trent’s office. Colonel Kruger stood up and offered them both a seat. Diana sat down, but Robin remained standing.

  “This morning,” the colonel said, “I rescinded the order that you were to be shipped to prison in Germany, and issued a new directive, releasing you immediately. You will therefore be allowed to return to your home. Should you be foolish enough to break the law a second time, Mr. Chapman, you will both be aboard the next ship that sails for Germany. Think of it as what’s called, in your country, a suspended sentence.”

  The commandant once again rose from behind his desk. “You are a remarkable man, Mr. Chapman. If your fellow countrymen are forged from the same steel, your nation may not prove quite as easy to defeat.”

  “Perhaps you should read Henry V,” suggested Robin.

  “I have,” replied the commandant. He p