NUNC DIMITTIS 5
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"NUNC DIMITTIS" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
NUNC DIMITTIS
by Andrej Koymasky © 2019
Witten on May 8th 1985
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by Antonio
CHAPTER 5
Thanks to an article I wrote about the Sudetenland question, in the Summer of that year I was hired as journalist at the Daily Express. I was twenty-three years old. When the Munich Conference was convened between Lord Chamberlain, Daladier, Hitler and Mussolini, I received my first assignment as a foreign correspondent. I accompanied an older colleague, much more experienced than I, but that was the real beginning of my journalistic career.
So, on September 29th we departed for Germany from Heston Aerodrome, on the same flight as Lord Chamberlain. We landed at 11:57.
Lord Chamberlain was greeted at the airport by von Ribbentrop. The conference started at 13:30. At 16:00 Masaryk came with a message for Daladier from Czechoslovakia. While my colleague stayed to follow the conference, I managed to get an interview with Masaryk. Once back at the Königin Hotel where we were quartered, at 18:30 I listened to the Pope's address urging peace.
I didn't share the wave of support for Mussolini that was sweeping England because of his position on the Sudetenland question; to me he had been and remained a dictator. But in my articles I had to try to overcome my personal problems and sentiments: I had to remain as balanced and objective as possible. So, whenever I could, I tried to ignore the fascism and his Duce.
These were grave times, a fact that I was all too well aware of through my work. But, thanks to Ben, I also enjoyed happy hours when I was able to cut myself off from the rest of the world.
My knowledge of languages, in which I never ceased to train, often gave me the opportunity of foreign assignments. They were brief absences, more than made up for by the periods I was afterwards able spend with my Ben.
By that time I had moved into our apartment in Cadogan Lane. Ben too spent whole days there; he spent more time in our apartment than in his own Palace.
When I asked him if his mother didn't find it strange that he was so seldom at home, his answer was: "No, she thinks it's only logical."
"Logical? I don't understand..."
That was how I came to learn that his mother knew all about us, about our relationship. I was amazed. I asked him: "But... doesn't she mind? She welcomed me into your home without..."
"My mother has known about me and my preferences for years. And she knows that I'm in love with you; she knew before I found the courage to tell you. She holds you in high regard, she knows I'm happy with you and she is happy for me. Therefore, she found it logical that I spend almost all my time here with you."
"If my family were only to guess about us... they'd certainly do everything they could to separate us."
"I can imagine. I know I'm extraordinarily lucky. It is unusual, or rather, it's extremely uncommon. Now if my father were alive, for instance, he wouldn't be able to understand and would definitely be against it. Even my brothers suspect nothing. But my mother's only concern is my happiness, and she knows that you are my happiness."
This revelation pleased me on the one hand, but on the other, I was now embarrassed towards Ben's mother, so, unconsciously, I started to avoid going to C** Palace.
Ben noticed this and told me it was silly of me to behave like that: "You are welcome, and moreover, my mother has grown fond of you, I assure you. Only last week for that matter, you know, when we sulked and there was tension between us... Well, my mother asked me what had happened, so I explained. Well then she took your side and told me I had to apologise to you and cherish you lovingly. 'Don't make that dear boy suffer, he doesn't deserve it,' she said to me."
"Honestly?"
"Have I ever lied to you?"
"No, never."
"So?"
So I tried once more to get used to meeting his family. I noticed that his mother always treated me with extreme naturalness and simplicity, as if I really were a member of the family. But it was not until much later that I had the greatest proof of that splendid Lady's sentiments towards me.
Ben and I often went riding, and thanks to his coaching I soon became a fair rider, even if never in the same class as him.
In February 1939 The Times invited me to join its staff, with a considerable increase in salary. Before accepting, I asked Ben to swear that he had had nothing to do with it. When he assured me that he didn't even know about it, I accepted. Ben was really happy. For me, it was a significant promotion.
I touched earlier on my disagreement with Ben. It had been the only really serious friction there had been between us in all the time we had been living together.
We had decided to spend three days in our Sunshine Hut. The minute we arrived, as the weather was fine and very warm, Ben stripped off and wore just a pair of shorts. I loved seeing him that way, half naked: to be able to admire his splendid, perfectly-proportioned physique was a feast for my eyes. Dressed like that, he went out to work in the garden while I was preparing our meal. From time to time I would see him pass in front of my window and wink merrily at me. The lunch was almost ready and I hadn't seen him for a while, so I went out to call him. He was leaning against the south-west fence talking to a lad sitting on a bicycle beyond the fence. They were smiling and chatting and I noticed that the youth's eyes were caressing Ben's almost bare body... I felt stung by a faint sense of jealousy and annoyance. I called him, and he answered with an almost absent-minded wave, but went on talking with the young man who was staring at him almost shamelessly. So I called him again.
"Yes, I'm coming." Ben answered a little tetchily, but didn't make a move.
I went back inside, angry. When he came back in about five minutes later, cheerful as ever, I was at the table, sulky, and had started to eat all alone. He noticed it immediately and asked me what was going on. I went for him, saying I didn't like him showing himself off that way, half naked, to a stranger with lust-filled eyes. He laughed and I only got more furious. I think Ben really thought I was joking, because he answered that, when all was said and done, I liked turning on lust in boys' eyes and he liked to be undressed by them, and to be admired.
To me it came like a slap in the face. So I called him all sorts of names and shouted at him that he should run after the boy and let him undress him for real, let him fuck him right in the middle of the village square, if he liked it that much. When he realised I was genuinely furious and not pretending, not joking, it was too late. So we had a quarrel and went straight back to London. I went back home to my family in a black mood. He went to his palace. His mother told him he was wrong, as I've said, so that same evening Ben came and rang at my family's door, asking if I was at home.
My mother, in the dark about everything, replied that I was, and called me. When we were alone in the lounge, he apologised and asked me to go with him back to our apartment, because he wanted to explain to me and be forgiven. I answered with a curt no. Then he said that if I didn't go with him, he wouldn't move from that spot. Afraid of creating an embarrassing scene, and probably no little scandal, I unwillingly agreed.
Once at our apartment, Ben explained to me, apologised in such a grieved, distressed, sincere way that in the end I could be upset with him no longer.
"I swear" he kept repeating "I do not care for that boy at all, to me only you exist... I made a mistake, I realise that now. But I didn't mean to hurt you, to make you angry. I swear I will never again show myself undressed like that to anybody apart from you. Please, Andrew, please, forgive me!"
"Perhaps... perhaps you too have to forgive me. I know you love me, I know that for you only I exist... I was wrong to react in that way, I didn't really have any reason to be jealous..."
We embraced. Then I told him about Michel and Alain, then of all the time I'd spent before meeting him. I had never told him before, nor had he ever asked me anything. But now I needed him to know everything about me. He listened in silence, then said that I too I had to know everything about him. So he told me about his childhood, then of his first sexual experiences with a college companion at Oxford. And of his experiences when he was a page at Buckingham Palace, when he was seventeen, and Prince Edward had called him into his bed several times. Then about other adventures he had had; the infatuation he had had for two twins, his stable boys, when he was twenty.
"But there was no real love, just sex, though it was really great to be with those two lads at the same time. Before meeting you, the only one time I ever felt in love was when I was twenty-one. It was my eighteen-year-old cousin; he wasn't in love with me, on the contrary, he used me. I was crazy about him, almost like I am now for you. But he took advantage of that. He just wanted to amuse himself. I became like a slave, a toy in his hands. Just to make him happy, just to have him, I did everything he asked me. I went to the point of picking up boys, soldiers, to bring them to him. He enjoyed watching them fuck me...
It was my mother who rescued me. She noticed I was unhappy and gradually she came to realise why. Then she confronted my cousin and ordered him to get out of my life. Fortunately my cousin was scared of my mother, and we never saw him again.
My mother had known about me for a long while, ever since I had been having fun with the two stable boys. So, at that time, she had asked advice from Lord Alfred Douglas, to whom she is distantly related. He advised her to let me follow my own way. She asked his advice again when she discovered what was happening with my cousin. It was then that Alfred gave me that book, thanks to which we now are together. He had a long talk with me, explained a lot of things, and also revealed that my mother knew, and understood and accepted me.
And now... I have to confess one last thing to you. I hope you... you will be able to understand and will not be upset with me again..."
"I promise." I answered.
"Well, you see, that boy I was talking with... there at the Sunshine... I met him after cutting off with my cousin. At that time he was the under-barman at the Club. One day the water failed while I was taking my shower. My whole body was covered in soap and I needed to rinse off. So I called out. He was passing nearby, heard me and said he would fetch a bucket of warm water from the bar. He came back and offered to pour it over me. I was all set to refuse, but from his glances I realised he liked me and I quite liked him physically too. So I accepted, and further, told him to undress too, so as not to get soap splashes on his clothes. He complied without any hesitation and once we were shut in the shower cubicle, we had sex. We went on meeting almost every day for four months, until he stopped working at the Club and left London. I was not in love with him, nor he with me. We just enjoyed having good sex together.
He had happened to be passing there today quite by chance; he'd been to visit his grandparents and was on his way back home. Passing on his bicycle, he recognized me and stopped. He greeted me and asked me if I wanted him to stop for a while to have sex. I answered no immediately. Indeed, when you called me, I explained to him that my refusal was because I was in love with you and that, therefore, there was no reason any more now, and that I felt no desire to have sex with anybody else. That's the truth, I beg you, believe me! Since I have had you, absolutely nobody else interests me. You are everything to me, I have given myself completely to you, and..."
"I believe you, my love. Ben... I need you, now, right away."
"I'm here, love..."
We sealed the peace on our first and last quarrel in the way we knew best, abandoning ourselves into each other's arms, giving ourselves warmly to each other with renewed passion.
In August the international crisis appeared to heighten again. Hitler laid claim to some of Poland's territories. I was sent again to Germany where I arrived on the 23rd, just in time to the crisis escalate. That day Germany and Russia signed a blatantly anti-Polish non-aggression pact. Then America sent the Polish President a gift of twenty-three American flags: now Poland could really feel safe from Nazi aggression!!! I never did understand that kind of symbolic move from the American government. And moreover, why twenty-three flags? Was there some magic in that number???
Someone stated that Mussolini would probably have acted as an intermediary again, as he did for Czechoslovakia. Perhaps they were trying to ignore the fact that, less than a year after that "mediation", Czechoslovakia no longer existed?
I remember I felt anguish grab me by the throat.
By 26th August, the German army was lined up along the border with Poland. On the 28th Sir Henderson, the British Ambassador in Berlin, attempted mediation, at the same time reminding Hitler that, were he to invade Poland, he would find himself at war with both Great Britain and France. I interviewed him when he got back to the Embassy after his meeting with the Führer; I found him a tired and mistrustful man.
He said to me: "The second World War has broken out... or at, least a European war!" then he said, tensely: "Don't you dare publish what I just said!"
On the 29th Hitler invited a Polish delegation to Berlin to negotiate over the German "requests" that were really and truly an ultimatum. On the 31st, Warsaw refused the invitation.
At dawn on 1st September, the occupation of Poland began. I was at the Reichstag to cover Hitler's announcement speech. So it really was to be war.
On the 2nd I was at the British Embassy again: now they were burning stacks of documents. Sir Henderson saw me and nodded a greeting.
"Are you going back to London?" he asked me.
"How about you?"
" My rôle here is over..."
"I'll travel back with you, but before that, I'd like to make a short trip into Poland."
"No, don't go there or you risk finding yourself in... enemy territory."
"I see." I said.
In fact, on September 3rd, France and Britain declared war on Germany, and I barely managed to board the last plane to London.
When I next saw Ben again he was pale and tense: "I have been called up, into the Royal Navy."
"When do you have to leave?"
"The day after tomorrow, for Dover."
"And... and me?" Ben didn't answer. Then I cried out: "I'm coming with you."
"How?"
"Instruct The Times to assign me to your ship as their correspondent. I never wanted you to do anything for me at The Times. But now it is different, now I want you to!"
"But we'd also need authorisation from the Defence Minister and from the Admiralty..."
"So get those too! I don't want to leave you. Either we both face the same risks, or neither of us does." We had a long discussion; he was against it, but in the end he agreed.
September 5th saw us setting off for Dover together; he had arranged everything.
I had always thought Ben handsome, but now, in uniform, he radiated a special fascination. I saw women turning their heads, and even quite a few men. I was so proud of him.
So in a way, I too was at war. Ben's being a senior officer and I a special correspondent authorised by the Ministry, and on the same ship, we had the opportunity to see each other without problems.
By September 19th, Poland was completely occupied, half by Germany and half by Russia. Meanwhile, we were fighting the German navy in the Channel. A slow battle, obstinate and hard.
On 29th September the partition of Poland was sanctioned with a new Russo-German pact. On 1st November the Red Army invaded Finland, which resisted valiantly.
On December 12th our ship was damaged by the Germans, but we managed to fight them off. I saw one of the deck gunners killed, and so, without a second thought, I took his place. I don't really know how, it must have been beginner's luck, but I succeeded in firing three good shots, the last of which was a dead hit on the bridge of the German ship, which limped off straightaway. The immediate danger ended, the sailors bore me down in triumph.
Ben told me that my heroic act had been signalled to the Ministry. But later, when we were alone, he scolded me. And then we made love. Unhappily, we had very few opportunities, but when we did, we were seized with an enormous joie de vivre. It was probably also an unconscious reaction to the death that winged around us.
On February 2nd, I became the "reluctant hero" again for the second time. We were under attack by a patrol of Stukas that began strafing our decks with bursts of machine gunfire and dropping 100 lb bombs. Our men replied with our big guns and machine guns. Ben was on the bridge. I went out to get a better look at the scene I had to describe for the newspaper, and to count the Stukas. Walking backwards, I stumbled and fell down the ladder an officer was climbing up. We both tumbled to the bottom: a fraction of a second later the ladder disappeared in a blinding flash. My body shielded the officer, but I was shrapnelled in three places: twice in the thigh and once in the left arm. I was carried immediately to the ship's sick bay. I recovered in little more than a month and was reported to the Ministry for the second time; no matter how much I insisted that my act had been involuntary, nobody was prepared to believe me.
On March 12th the Soviets signed the peace agreement with Finland. On April 6th the USSR attacked Norway. On April 27th there was the umpteenth direct clash between our ship's convoy and the Germans. Ben ordered me to remain below; I had to obey, not really because he was Ben, but because he was a superior officer...
The attack over, to be forgiven, he came to make love in my cabin.
"But are you sure that people on board aren't suspicious of your long stays in my cabin?" I asked him. "No, don't worry, Andrew. I'm the officer assigned to press relations, and you are the press... so it is only logical that we should have... relations!"
We both burst out laughing at that word play and, undressing each other, we leapt into my berth.
On 10th May, the German Army invaded Holland and Belgium. The Dutch army capitulated on the 15th, and Queen Willemine took refuge in London. By the 20th, the German army controlled part of the Channel. Our troops in France had to abandon Arras. On the 25th they retreated toward Dunkirk. On the 26th Calais and Boulogne fell. On the 28th the Belgian army surrendered to the Germans. Events were turning for the worst, like an avalanche.
May 29th all British ships, military and civil, were ordered to go to Dunkirk and evacuate the British and French armed forces surrounded by the Germans who were overrunning France.
I have a strange but clear-cut memory of those days. About seven hundred craft, both military and civilian, were on the Channel between Dover and Dunkirk. There were private boats too, sailing boats, motorboats, even driven by priests and nuns. The whole of maritime England had spontaneously mobilised to rescue their men and their allies. We had about 400,000 soldiers to transport! Until June 4th, the day Dunkirk fell, it was a chaos of heroism and generosity, under continuous German attack by sea, land and air.
Our ship made its last embarkation on June 3rd. We headed back to Dover at full steam, zig-zagging in the black waters infested by German ships and bombers. Our ship was overloaded with British and French soldiers in a sorry state, tattered, hungry, wounded, but morale was high nevertheless. "We'll be back!" was the watchword of the soldiers of both nations, brothers in their determination.
I was interviewing those valiant men when we were attacked by a Stuka patrol. But we could see the planes of the RAF coming to our rescue. I kept asking myself how we could possibly avoid shooting our own planes, firing from our ship in all that confusion. The battle lasted about half an hour. Towards the end, a German bomb struck our ship astern.
The silence that follows a battle is something unreal. Then, suddenly, the silence was broken by shouted orders, to check the seriousness of the damage we had suffered. I heard the Commander say:
"We can reach Dover, if we aren't attacked again. Take care of the wounded now."
I joined in that task as well. I was helping to carry a wounded Frenchman to a berth when I heard a petty officer say: "At the first count, eleven dead and sixty-eight wounded, sir."
At that point I realised that it was a long time since I had see Ben and a crazy terror seized me, almost a premonition. I barely managed to get the French soldier to his berth, then I ran up on deck again.
Making an enormous effort not to show my terror, I managed to ask: "Any losses amongst the officers, sir?"
"No."
"And... wounded?"
"Two."
"Their names?" I asked, my heart in my throat.
When I heard Ben's name I turned pale. I ran down to his cabin. He was there, lying in his berth, attended by a soldier who was wiping away his blood mixed with sweat.
"You can go. I'll attend to him." I said.
I looked at Ben and my eyes were filled with tears, welling up without being able to run down.
"How... how are you?"
"Fine, Andrew..." he answered automatically
"Where are you wounded?"
"Almost everywhere, I think. A machine gun..."
"Have you been seen to?"
"Yes, don't worry."
I would have liked to embrace him but I didn't know what state he was in, so I held back, afraid of hurting him. But I stroked his face with my fingers. His head was bandaged too.
Pointing at it, I asked: "Is your head wounded?"
"Just a cut, nothing serious."
I stayed by him for probably an hour, when the medical officer came. He waved me to leave.
When he came out I asked him: "Is he seriously wounded?"
"I don't think he'll last to Dover. Internal bleeding."
"Are you joking?"
"Do you think I'm in the mood?"
"But... can't you do a transfusion, I don't know... something!"
"What with? My bare hands? The sick bay is destroyed." the doctor answered curtly as he left.
I went back to Ben's side, wishing myself dead. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true!
Ben smiled weakly up at me: "Hey, what a face! It's not the end of the world, is it? Did you want to be the only one getting wounded in this war?"
I shook my head, confused. I tried to push back my tears and smile. Ben didn't know what a bad state he was in... he didn't know he was dying, and I had to hide the truth from him...
"As soon as we arrive in Dover you'll get to the hospital and you'll see, they'll make you as good as new." I said.
He smiled again, with a melting sweetness: "No, I'm not going to make it to Dover. I know it. I'm sorry, Andrew... I'm sorry to leave you like this. So soon."
"Oh no, no... what are you saying?"
"Sssh, quiet. Listen to me, there's so little time left. Take my ring to my brother. He will be the next Lord C**... And tell my mother not to cry too much... I've had a good life, thanks to her, and I'm leaving in a good way, with the one I love beside me..."
Suddenly he stopped talking, but his eyes still looked at me, sweet and bright, in a kind of melting smile.
Then he moved one hand towards me. I took it and he clutched my hand ever so slightly: "Well, now I have to go, my love. I would like to... tell you plenty... but there is no more left time. Goodbye... and forgive me for leaving you... so... soon..."
His hand slid from mine. His eyes were open, but now they were empty, the light that previously shone was extinguished, and it seemed as if he was looking far, far, far, away...
I couldn't react. Suddenly I felt completely emptied. As if in a trance, I shut his eyes, slipped the ring from his finger, then I covered his face with the sheet and went out, feeling nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, to my cabin. I opened the door, and at that precise instant I heard the troops' shouts from the deck: "Dover! Dover!" and I passed out.
I woke up in Dover hospital. It was 3 a.m. on the 4th June. I got up and tried to find out where Ben's body was. He had been transported to Canterbury for the official memorial service that was to be held the 6th. Then my thoughts turned to his family: had they been informed? I hired a car and asked to be driven to London. At 6:45 I was at Claverden House. The butler came to open the door.
"Oh, Mr. Nike..."
"Lady C**... has she been... informed yet?"
"Yes, Mr. Nike."
"Is she resting now?"
"No, she is in the study with her family."
"Do you think I... would be intruding...?"
"I don't know... I wouldn't presume... Have you just come from Dover, sir?"
"Yes."
"Were you with him when... when..."
"Yes."
"Please, do come in, sir. I will ask M'lady."
He was back soon: "M'lady prays you to kindly wait just a moment in the green drawing-room. Will you please follow me, sir?"
I entered the drawing-room and now alone, I realized I had neither changed my clothes nor shaved. I must have looked a terrible sight. But I certainly hadn't thought earlier about making myself presentable.
After a while Ben's mother entered. She was already wearing mourning. We looked at each other for a moment, in silence, then she closed the door, came over and held out her hand to greet me: "Good morning, Andrew..."
I was about to kiss her hand, but this time she clasped my hand instead and said: "Thank you for coming immediately. You were with him when he died?"
I nodded. Then I put one hand into my pocket and drew out the ring: "He asked me to bring this to his brother."
"Keep it with you for now. You can give it to Lyndon in person. Did he say anything else?"
"He said... that you mustn't cry because... because he was glad he..." I started but my own tears prevented me.
She squeezed then caressed my hand, and gently said: "Go on..."
"He was happy to leave with me at his side."
His mother nodded, then asked: "Let me embrace you, Andrew."
We embraced tightly, and now at last she joined me in my silent and heartfelt weeping. Then she asked me other details, other things. We talked for a long time about Ben. She invited me to come back.
"You will come to Canterbury for the funeral service, of course: you are part of the family."
I thanked her then I went back to our little apartment. I flung myself onto our bed and at last I could finally sob aloud, crying out for my Ben.
On June 6th I went to the funeral service, in Lady C**'s car.
Here I entrusted the family ring to Lyndon, who was now eighteen,: "Wear with pride this ring that has belonged to your ancestors and to Benjamin, he charged me to give it to you. He wore it with honour."
"Thank you, sir. I will do my best, I promise you!"
On the 10th June, Italy declared war on France and Great Britain. I was working at The Times when the news arrived.
Barely an hour after this information, one of the C** grooms asked for me: "Lady C** bids you come to the Claverden House immediately, sir."
I followed him. When I arrived, Lady Martha welcomed me: "Andrew! You and your whole family must move here to Claverden House immediately."
"But why, M'lady?"
"Even though you are British citizens now, people will still consider you Italians and therefore enemies, and you will not be safe. I took the liberty of sending for your parents and sister and brother with their families as well. I will have the west wing prepared for you. You will be safe here," and she explained to me how she had organised everything.
Listening to her, I was convinced she was right. So I and my family lived at Claverden House for about seven months, until the waters were calmer and we judged we were no longer at risk.
In July, Lady Martha summoned me to her study.
"I have settled all of our Benjamin's estate. I have decided that you will have the Sunshine Hut: it belonged to the two of you. Cadogan Lane belongs to you already. You will also have his share of the Club, and his horses. And here are some of my son's personal belongings that I'm sure he would have wanted you to have: his diary, the book he received from Lord Alfred Douglas, his collection of pipes and your letters. I would also like you to have his car and this portrait."
I was moved, and speechless. "But, M'lady, I... I have no right to anything..."
"On the contrary, you have a right to much, much more. But I couldn't give you more without explaining the reason to the other children, to the family, and I am afraid they would not understand. But all of this is really yours. You truly loved him and made him happy. If Benjamin had been married, then his wife would have inherited much more. But that was not possible. However, do remember that, even if in the eyes of the law you have no ties with my son, to me it is different: you really made Benjamin a happy man. Therefore, at least as long as I am alive, this house will always be your home. So, please accept the little I can hand over to you of all that you would have a right to, if only our society were different. It is not a gift from me, but from my son, our Benjamin..."
I was deeply moved.
In the days following, the family solicitor was summoned to settle everything officially. But that wasn't the end of the surprises.
Ben had written to his mother about my "heroic actions" during the war. Lady Martha, knowing that the Ministry was about to award me two medals, asked to be received by King George, her 3rd cousin, and asked him to make me a Baronet. It seems that the King was not so inclined, perhaps because of my Italian origins, with Italy and Great Britain being still at war. But Lady Martha managed to obtain the sovereign's consent.
So, on the 28th of December, 1940, when I was 25 years old, the King dubbed me Baronet for "special war merits".
After the investiture ceremony at Court, Lady Martha embraced me with affection and said: "Now I am certain that our Benjamin, up there, is satisfied, Sir Andrew Nike."
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6
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