The Ukrainians of the SOE’s Special Action Group was now officially part of the same unit, making up a fifth company, Victor, to add to Whiskey, X-Ray, Yankee, and Zebra companies of the original Steel group, the former having been transported in only two days beforehand.
Each of the original companies had one hundred and forty men, plus Crisp’s headquarters added a further eighty-five.
With Shandruk’s Ukrainian troopers, the old runway was home for seven hundred and nine men.
Ferdinand Sunday’s voice rang out, bringing every man to a state of readiness for his parade orders.
“Parade… parade… atten-shun!”
As one the men responded, and the differences declared themselves immediately, the attention position for the Ukrainians being wholly different to those of the US soldiers.
The two jeeps drew up and the man that every eye concentrated upon stepped out at a lively pace and mounted the small dais.
Churchill nodded to the immaculate RSM.
“Parade… parade… stand at…ease!”
The feet shot out again and the men prepared for the expected pep-talk.
“Sergeant-Major… have the men gather round, if you please.”
Sunday, taken aback for the merest of moments, saluted the British Prime Minister and brought himself back to the attention.
“Parade… parade… stand easy… gather round… at the double!”
The rigid ranks broke immediately and there was almost a race to be at the front of the group.
“Settle down now! Settle down, you bunch of bast… you lot!”
Churchill grinned.
“Thank you, Sergeant Major. Can you hear me at the back there, men?”
Those furthest back chorused their replies, even the Ukrainians who didn’t understand what he had said and were just following the actions of others.
“Excellent… now, Gentlemen, I know that all of you are wondering what you are doing here on this lovely island. Well, I can answer your question directly, right now.”
He sought eye contact with as many of his audience as possible, sharing a smile or a nod of encouragement with those he was about to order into battle.
“You will shortly be asked to undertake a mission… possibly the single most important mission in the history of warfare… a mission that will bring great dangers… great risks to you all.”
That got their attention.
“Men, the mission will require travel to a place where the enemy is developing weapons similar to those dropped on Japan, the atomic weapons that ended the resistance of the Empire of Japan.”
Immediately, most men grasped the singular importance of the mission.
“We simply cannot tolerate the enemy having these weapons, and we must remove and destroy them in their entirety. Our own use has been controlled, and designed to end conflict, whereas there can be little doubt, following their recent dastardly attack on our forces, that they would intend to employ them to cause the maximum possible damage to the Allied cause.”
Some understood the necessary bullshit that Churchill had just presented.
“The communist foe has other weapons in its arsenal, and we have already experienced their dastardly employment on the battlefields of Europe. We will deal with that awfulness as best we can, and I can tell you that our navies have already successfully prevented a full scale biological attack on the European mainland.”
“We have thus far been lucky, but the threat posed by their atomic programme cannot be underestimated, and it falls to you to be asked to risk everything to save lives in their countless thousands.”
The cheering started from a few throats and soon spread to many.
Churchill set his jaw to prevent any emotion from making itself known, for he believed that many of the men stood in front of him on this warm morning would find eternal rest in the soil of Russia.
As the noise started to subside, he removed his hat and fiddled with the brim as he composed his next words carefully.
“Men, I am compelled to be as honest as I can be, for it is only right that you hear this from my lips, and know that I speak on behalf of President Truman as well.”
A hush fell upon the assembly as the man’s genuine honesty and passion was made apparent by the anguish on his face and in his words.
“This is not a question of ‘you will go’, but one of you being asked to volunteer. No man will be forced, required, ordered… anyone who undertakes this vital mission will have chosen to go of their own free will. There will be no stigma for those who choose to remain… but I ask you… no… I implore you all to think about this and decide to volunteer because you… as I do… believe it is the right thing to do.”
“Soldiers of 1st Special Service Force, understand this. We believe… I believe earnestly that this is the way… the only way… to make you, your families, your loved ones, and those with whom you serve, safe for the future.”
Already, minds turned to the possibility of stepping aside and leaving their peers to take the strain.
The answer was pretty universal.
‘Not a chance.’
“But you must know… must surely understand… that the mission you will go on is difficult and hazardous… but you would not be asked to go were it not of vital importance to the future of the Allied nations… indeed, to the future of the world. I ask this of all of you that volunteer to rise to the challenges ahead and go forth to remove the enemy’s threat… their super weapon… and face the difficulties ahead together with the man stood beside you. I cannot tell you that this will end the war… neither can I tell you that it will bring the end nearer. What I can tell you is that it will ensure that the end of the war comes without the world having been transformed into a wasteland, and will ensure that our cause will triumph in the end. Thank you, gentlemen, and may God go with you all!”
The roar went up from hundreds of throats as men, inspired by Churchill’s rhetoric, committed themselves to the cause he championed.
Shandruk and Crisp had been stood in the second row back and, as if tied together like marionettes, they threw immaculate salutes towards the Prime Minister, and were immediately followed by the men under their command, a wave of arms offering the military honour to Churchill, who was clearly moved by the display.
He replaced his hat with studious care and return the salute briefly, before falling back on his famous V for Victory.
Sunday stood ramrod straight and barked his commands crisply.
“Parade… parade… fall… in!”
The men immediately rushed back to their previous position and arranged themselves in line.
Churchill, accompanied by Sam Rossiter, was introduced to Marion Crisp and Ostap Shandruk, the latter of which he had read about in files so secret that they would never ever see the light of day.
The two officers, with RSM Sunday bringing up the rear and throwing demonic looks at anyone who had a piece of uniform out of place, accompanied Churchill on an inspection of the troops, although none of the men carried any weapon save a sidearm.
The Prime Minister could not help himself but admire the immense presence of a Red Indian soldier the like of which he had rarely seen in all his days of military parades and demonstrations.
Such inspections were a common thing for Winston, but he could see that these men were special in every sense, even the ex-SS soldiers that he thought he should see in a different light for reasons he both understood and failed to comprehend.
He finished his inspection and shook the hands of all three men, much to Sunday’s discomfort.
“So, Colonel Crisp, assuming you yourself will go, how many of these fine men will follow you into Ragnarök?”