Prelude to the Second Weltkrieg - Part 4: Canada

Part 2

"Excuse me sir," Thomas interrupted Spenser's train of thought with a soft knock at the door and a polite entrance into the doorway.

"Yes Thomas," Spenser allowed a hint of frustration into his voice. Surely the help could be counted on to leave important men to their thoughts when the occasion called for it?

"I'm sorry to intrude sir, but we just received a telephone call from your friend Mr. Watters in the police office."

"Oh, what did Geoffrey have to say?"

"He wished to inform us that there is apparently some risk to the electrical system presented by tonight's... demonstrations."

"Really? Is nothing sacred anymore Thomas? They'd take one of our greatest achievements away from us?" A second, more terrifying thought arose in Spenser's mind. "I had plans to work through the evening!"

"Of course we will bring in candles and lamps to see you through the evening sir," Thomas assured him.

"That's a fine chap," Spenser allowed a hint of praise into his voice. Surely he had the best help in the city. "Oh and Thomas, another glass of scotch when you have a minute."

"Yes sir, right away."

This business about the French in this city seemed indomitably silly to Spenser. Most of the French he met were like Thomas – sensible, decent fellows who understood their place and the role they were to play in the coming conflict. But a few upstarts was all it took to rile the peasantry into dissent and rebellion. He'd seen it in India, had even seen it during the war occasionally, although almost always under the French. Hardly ever with the Canadians though – Spenser had nothing but respect for the Canadians. His regiment had served alongside a few Canadian men in the Weltkrieg. Tough, hardy fellows. Not pure British stock to be sure – and the French among them sure loved to show it – but solid troops across the board. He was sure that whatever this business was with the French, between the King and the Prime Minister they could sort it out. It was all just a tiny bump in the much larger, longer road that was to come.

That road obviously involved the Canadians. Without the home islands to give them sustenance, the true British had been forced to come here for their meat and bread. A great many of them had come with almost nothing, just their names, titles, and connections. Spenser had been one of the luckier ones, having taken shares in a number of the good American companies before the war had started, shares that had seen him through the harder years during the transition to Montreal. Shares that had paid for his house and his own investments in this new, colder land. Being appointed a senator by His Royal Highness hadn't hurt the old finances either, but Spenser was certainly better off than some of the dukes and earls who had come on the same boat with him. Many of them didn't even live in Westmount – they made do in the Plateau or even faraway Toronto or Ottawa. Close enough by train, he supposed, but still nothing like Montreal – the only city in Canada that felt like home. That felt like Europe.

Europe – that other theatre of war... that one was far more complicated than India. Oh India had its Rajas and princes in the south to think of too, but India was straightforward. Crush the syndicalists and the country was Britain's for the taking. But Europe was altogether more difficult.

Of course the home islands were the first priority. The syndicalists who had fomented all the unrest in Cardiff, in Edinburgh and Liverpool – in all the cities now that he thought of it – had to be dealt with first. Once India was in order, the full might of that great nation could be turned towards the recapturing of England, Scotland, Wales and – God willing – Ireland too. Word from back home was sparse and often contradictory, but what everyone knew – the end of the political process, dissolution of parliament, martial law and conscription everywhere – was surely enough to make it clear that the commoners would much rather have the steady hand of their King and Prime Minister than the thoughtless rabble that called themselves leadership in London now. One good naval landing on the soft southern shores is all it would take for the dominos over there to come tumbling down and to see Britain returned to proper British hands.

After the islands were taken though, there was still the old foe in Germany to deal with. Why, it had only been a year and Germany looked to be bouncing back from Black Monday much quicker than Canada or the United States were. Spenser didn't understand economics as well as he would have liked, so he reasoned it must have been due to the fact that the problem originated in Germany, so it was easier for the Germans to patch it up. But regardless, Germany would be no easy bit of prey, even with the combined weight of Canada, India, and Britain brought to bear. Austria wasn't quite the powerhouse it had been in Spenser's grandfather's time, but it still held sway over most of the Balkans too, and everyone assumed if Germany was facing real threat, Austria would step in too. Assuming the French Communists surrendered as promptly as the British ones, and Petain could bring his country to heel quick too, they were really in the same place they had been twenty years ago. Which meant there was only one wildcard left to play in the same old equation. Spenser brushed the maps aside until he located the one that held the future of the world in its hand.

Russia.