Redemption - Leon Uris [316]
Some of the iron had drained from Caroline. Fear of her next question hung over both of them.
“All right,” she said, eyes tearing, “you know what I want to know.”
“The short version or the long version? The Aussie charge over the Nek was a suicide mission with no tactical purpose. Llewelyn Brodhead simply lost his head.”
“You did not read the Commission of Inquiry’s first report, did you?” she asked.
“One of those nice blue ladies in the hospital read it to me.”
“Well?”
“Brodhead lied to cover his ass. As one incompetent general in a pot of a dozen other incompetent generals, he was able to ooze his way past the bitter truth.”
“And Chunuk Bair?” Caroline asked.
“We arrived at the top at daybreak after a most dangerous all-night march and climb. Shortly thereafter the Suvla Corps landed but stopped on the beach without even attempting to make contact with us. We were only a battalion strong with no chance to thwart a Turkish counterattack. Some forty to fifty thousand British soldiers just sat there on the beach.
“Brodhead should have ordered us off Chunuk Bair immediately. Instead, he did the opposite. He sent Colonel Markham up to us with orders to remain there seven hours after we should have evacuated. The New Zealander, Colonel Malone, refused to stay any longer and he and Markham got into an argument.
“Brodhead, by phone, ordered Chris to arrest Colonel Malone. Chris refused. Brodhead was expecting eight hundred of us on totally exposed ground to stand off thirty to fifty thousand Turks.
“Anyhow, Malone ordered the evacuation. As it started, he and Markham were killed by a shell.”
“Where were my sons?”
“The Turks were inching up on us. Chris and Jeremy went out to our perimeter and charged into several nests of machine guns to try to buy us time to get off the hill.”
“You heard all of this between Malone and Markham?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know that Brodhead has testified that it was he who ordered the evacuation?”
“Yes, he lied…and he’s asked me to lie as well.”
They sat there, chalk-faced.
“How did my sons die?”
Rory wept a bit and continued shaking his head.
“How did my sons die?”
“By British naval gunfire!” Rory said. “Now fucking leave me alone!”
“What are your intentions now, son?”
“When I know yours,” Rory answered. He dried his tears and gave a hardy blow of the nose.
“Brotherhood?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
“They’ll want you to stay in Dublin Castle. You can’t carry that off for too long.”
“We all know that.”
“How far will you go?” she asked.
“How far will you go?” he retorted.
“How many more villages does he plan to tumble?” she asked.
“As many as it takes to crush the Irish spirit…. Your flirtation with Brodhead?”
“I wasn’t positive. I am now.”
“Lure him?”
“To his death. Seems that we’ve been thrown together, Rory. Of course, you have no choice but to trust me.”
“I do trust you.”
“I’ve been wondering all along if I could really do it,” she said. “Even as a general in battle, he killed my sons needlessly through his incompetence and panic. Is that right?”
“Yes,” Rory said.
“I am the daughter of Freddie Weed and all that inplies. Father and daughter are a paradox. Freddie longs to die but he cannot die until Brodhead is assassinated. I long to live but I cannot live until the same thing happens. He killed my sons and now he plans to kill Ireland. I’m not a republican, Rory, but I have learned from the executions that I am an Irishwoman…and I love hearing myself say it. You can’t take out Brodhead by yourself, Rory. Suspicion will fall immediately on his staff, and you can’t stand too much scrutiny. On the other hand, I can do it, but I need an ally, be it the Brotherhood or yourself, alone.”
“There’s some talk about making a move if they sentence Roger Casement to death.”
“I’ve always adored Roger Casement,” Caroline said. “Is vengeance wrong? It would be wrong knowing what Llewelyn Brodhead will do to Ireland, having the means to stop him, and not doing it-that would be wrong. Sometimes a