He read off the fifteen names of those who would be awarded various “knightships,” or “dukedoms” or—or what? James knew what he wanted to think, but words and thoughts were jumbled in his mind. The tension in the room had escalated, and many were now visibly nervous. The constant chatter was now a true buzz as everyone talked in hushed, hurried tones.
“We’ll see you back here when it’s over.” Leeanne reached up and stroked his cheek. A tear formed in the corner of her eye. “I love you.”
She and Brian walked through the side doors and out of the room. Now what the hell was all that about? he said.
“How do you do,” a voice said from behind him.
James looked around and quickly came to attention. “Sir.”
“Save that for later, Captain,” the older man said with a bemused smile. “Nobody is too worried about a salute in here. Much too uptight for that tripe right now.” The man was a full colonel in the Royal Marines.
“Sir,” James croaked. He cleared his throat, annoyed at himself. “Sir, I don’t mean to sound like a dumb colonial, but am I going to meet who I think I’m going to meet?”
“If you think you’re going to meet the Queen, then yes, you’re absolutely right.”
“Oh, God.”
“Where are you in the order, Captain?”
“Third, sir.”
The Colonel’s eyes opened wide, and he truly looked at James for the first time. “Then you have my sincerest congratulations, Sir.” He came to attention before moving away.
James looked at him. “I …”
One of the doors opened briefly and the tuxedoed man entered. “Ladies and gentlemen. If you would please move into order, we may begin.” It took a minute to organize everyone, but finally, slowly, the two main doors opened.
Red carpeting led into a large, ornate hall, and as James looked around, his eyes took in each of the four carpeted steps to his right. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, Queen of England, and her husband, His Royal Highness The Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, were seated in the middle of the raised floor.
Oh, God, James thought as he marched to his spot, I think she looked at me.
Those being honored stopped and sat as they waited their turn. The first man was knighted Sir Something-or-Other. James couldn’t concentrate. When Sir Something-or-Other was done, the second man, the new Duke of Somewhere-or-other, walked up the stairs.
James watched, fighting to remember the protocol mentioned only minutes before. Damn it. I should have listened closer. Do I put my hand up to say I have to go to the bathroom or just cross my legs and pray?
“Captain James Llewellyn Morgan, 3rd Battalion, Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry, Canadian Forces.” James stood, snapped to attention, and marched forward, halting three paces away from the Queen. “The citation reads as follows: ‘On 3 January while on patrol in the Bihać Pocket, Captain Morgan, without hesitation, ordered his vehicle and crew…’”
James focused on a knot of wood in the throne and listened as the citation was read. Sounds like this Morgan character is one stupid sonofabitch, he thought. Pass out or throw up. Pass out or throw up? Hell, I can always do both, can’t I?
“Congratulations, Captain,” the Queen said softly, and pinned the Victoria Cross to his tunic. She lowered her eyes and took in the other medals. Smiling, she looked up. “It seems this is not your first encounter with danger, Captain.”
He smiled weakly. “Some people just don’t learn, Your Majesty.” His throat had gone dry and the words were barely audible.
She put her hand on his shoulder, ignoring his obvious unease. “Thank God for people like you.” As he met her gaze, she stepped back. “May God be with you, Captain.”
James stepped back, bowed, and smartly marched off. He looked into the rows of spectators as he returned to his seat. Leeanne, Brian, and Brigadier Bennett beamed, and for the first time, James noticed General Hanson. Several of the British soldiers he had rescued sat behind them. Tears ran down Leeanne’s cheeks.
“Welcome to the club, Jimmy,” Brian called as they came into the anteroom after the ceremony. Leeanne ran to him and threw her arms around him. James was still in shock, but the pain in his chest and arm was now only a distant bother.
James looked at Hanson who shook his head. There was a strange, almost strained look on Hanson’s face. “Brian,” Hanson said, “before I met you, I never thought I would see the Victoria Cross on someone still alive. Now, I see two of them.”
Brian, a second-lieutenant during the Faulkland Islands War, was awarded the Victoria Cross for rescuing thirty British prisoners from their Argentine captors and organizing them into a fighting force. Crawford’s Commandos, as they were subsequently known, in those eighteen hours destroyed an Argentine ammunition dump, captured over one hundred prisoners of their own, and destroyed five machine-gun posts saving untold number of lives in the subsequent English attacks.
Hanson came to attention and saluted. “Congratulations, Captain.”
James wiped his eyes and smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
Hanson pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him. “I’m proud of you, son.”
“Room!” someone bellowed from across the great hall.
The military personnel snapped to attention. “Please, relax. Captain Morgan,” he called.
“Sir!” James called loudly. He turned, but stayed at attention.
Prince Philip moved toward him. The other officers stayed at attention, scarcely allowing a breath. Bennett, more accustomed to this way of life, was slightly more relaxed and seemed to take a perverse delight in the others’ discomfort.
“Good morning, William. Captain Morgan. I wanted to tell you myself that Corporal Emerson will be posthumously awarded the Cross of Valour.” A lump formed in James’s throat and he nodded. Philip looked at Leeanne and smiled. “Who is this lovely lady?”
James fought to remember the numerous rules of etiquette for introducing people. He had learned them years ago as an officer-cadet, yet couldn’t remember if those rules included royalty. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Junior to senior, younger to older—that was the easy part. Prince to wife or wife to Prince? He mentally shrugged and came up with his own order of precedence. “Leeanne, may I present the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Philip. Sir, my wife, Leeanne.”
“Your Highness.” She did a deep curtsy and extended her hand.
“A pleasure, Leeanne. Tell me, Captain, was that citation completely accurate?”
James flushed. “Not completely, sir.”
Philip smiled now, not at Morgan’s unease, but at the innocence so obviously on display before him. “Which part?”
“Well, Sir. That part about ‘without hesitation’ isn’t quite right. There was a lot of that.” Prince Philip laughed. James looked at the ground, embarrassed. “I just did my job, sir.”
“No, Captain,” Philip said softly. “You saved numerous lives and did so in a way that brought credit and honor not only to the military and to your country, but to yourself as well. I’m sure the soldiers you saved think you did more than your job. I’m sure the families of the civilians think you did more than your job, too.” He sighed and shook his head. “Whether people realize it or not, we are at war, James. That is what peacemaking is. The media hasn’t come out and said it—they won’t say it—because of that one word. War. It tends to have a devastating effect on morale. Thank you, Captain.” Philip nodded to