Chapter 12: With Friends Like These…
The great and mighty Roman Emperor, Augustus Cheeseolini, was sleeping peacefully with Mr Snuggly, Mr Snuggles, and Mr Sodomy Donkey (no relation). It was therefore an extremely brave Alan who broke the peace and entered the royal bedchambers/stable.
“Be sure to make your reason especially good Alan,” the Emperor mumbled sleepily. “You know how they get this time of night.”
Alan, eying the two grouchy lions and one sex-crazed donkey carefully, nodded. “Bean-counter said it could not wait.”
“And you believed him?”
“After he pushed me through the door, yes.”
“What is it then?”
Alan paused, and then took out a large file marked TOP SECRET.
“You know how you ordered SIM to find out what the hell was going on in the British government? Well, they’ve reported back, and are a little confused by the results. So, they sent the team they used to check our own government, as a control test.” An even larger file marked DO NOT READ joined the first. “And they have some…concerns.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Did you know for example that whilst you are head of state and government of this empire, you made the former King of Italy your sole heir?”
“Ah yes, that seemed sensible. Or at least easy. What of it?”
“Well, it just surprised us given that you are not shy about declaring him utterly inept and incapable of ruling, a bore, an idiot, and a disgrace to the Italian people.”
“He is well-loved by the people however.”
“Yes, in Italy. But this is merely the centre of our massive empire now, and almost everyone else regards him as a nonentity, a spineless coward who should have had you shot years ago, or an imbecile who from a position of strength allowed a crazed fascist to take over his country.”
“I can think of no one better to replace me.”
“Hm…that is a little concerning. But far worse is your current second in command and head of the Treasury and Industry.”
“What’s wrong with Luigi Einaudi? He told me he was a captain of industry, and we all know how well we’ve been doing factory-wise since he took over.”
“What’s wrong is that he’s a commited anti-facist, and swore off all contact and relationships with our regime in 1926.”
“Clearly, he has had a change of heart.”
“I admit, he is a supporter of European federalism and a gifted economist, but he has a personal enmity with you and the feeling is, or was, mutual. Indeed, we nearly arrested him in 1936 when he wouldn’t stop editing his paper, which we also suppressed. Given all that, I’m just not sure why none of us even noticed he was always in the room with everyone else, let alone why he carries on working here.”
“Explains why he’s so quiet in meetings, I guess.”
“I suppose? If you’re not going to fire him, or replace the king with a better successor, can we talk about your two other government ministers? I understand why we have Giovanni Marinelli heading the Interior Ministry, though calling him the Prince of Terror is a little on the nose. But why is the Marquess of Revel our Quartermaster General?”
“Well…originally I was going to put him in charge of the Navy, given he’s an admiral apparently. But boats really scare me, and I didn’t want to disappoint him so…”
“I see. Well, our industrial contracts actually make a lot of sense. Fiat making our tanks and cars, CRDA making…or rather not making, our ships. Hmm, it says here that we’ve given all our aircraft licences to Savoia-Marchetti. Should they really be building all our planes, from naval bombers to fighters?”
“Next you’ll be telling me that Beretta aren’t up to the task of making our guns!”
“Ah yes…no, I’m sure they’re very good at making side arms and rifles. Quite why we’ve licenced them to make all our infantry materials however…is that why our helmets look like that?”
“I just thought that if they were that good at shooting things, they’d be great at protecting us from being shot.”
Alan turned the page and looked at the army listings. Discounting the naval and air forces as irrelevant, he honed in on the army chief and high command.
“Um…I think you got some of these names mixed up, mighty Cheesare. It says here Ugo Cavellero is head of the armed forces, whilst Vittorio Ambrosio and Alfredo Guzzoni serve under him.”
“Yes? I wanted my competent generals out in the world leading armies. They both despise Ugo, so he won’t be listened to, and I can keep him here without having to deal with any tears from anyone else.”
Alan sighed and closed the Roman folder. “I suppose this will have to do then. If you think it best, sire.”
“You were saying about the British?” the Emperor said, stretching and yawning.
“Oh yes, we’ve figured out the identity of their Head of Intelligences.”
“Intelligences, plural?”
“Yes, he seems to be in charge of all of them. Bit bewildering, especially when we found out it was Alan Turing, an apparently quite unpleasant and annoying mathematician. No military rank, no particular experience with anything approaching government, management or espionage…he’s very good at crossword puzzles though.”
“Are we sure this isn’t another one of Churchill’s tricks?”
“Seems to be legit, sire. Their High Command in general seems to be a mess. They’ve promoted a colonel to Major-General, a certain Kenneth Anderson. Apparently, he is an infantry specialist. They’ve also dragged an employed officer from Dehli to serve as their logistics wizard, someone called Claude Auchinleck. They also drafted a commodore from the South American Division to represent the Navy, some bloke called Henry Harwood.”
“Why are the British blindly promoting people from across their empire rather than someone in the chain of command in London?”
“We’re not entirely sure, though it could be because everyone in London is tainted by Chamberlain’s government and Churchill is clearing house. By the way, the former head of the British Mediterranean Fleet is the new First Sea Lord. Not sure who they’re sending to replace Dudley Pound yet but we’ll be keeping an eye out. Edmund Ironside is in overall command of the Armed Forces. No idea who he is, other than that he was basically retired in Gibraltar for some time. He’s a defence expert apparently, which should be helpful to the British about now.”
“Who’s in charge at the war office?”
“We’re not entirely sure, but Harold Alexander keeps being called Britain’s ‘military theorist’ and everyone seems to obey his orders so…I guess he is? We aren’t really sure why. Our own War Office is in much safer hands with Graziani in charge.”
“I love his hair.”
“Oh yes, he has really good hair. Most definitely. I think that’s it for now, Mighty Cheesare, if there is nothing else?”
“Have SIM check the rest of the Great Powers over. We may as well know what everyone is doing, and who is running the show, even if it makes little sense as to why.”
“At once, your Imperial Majesty. Goodnight everyone.”
