Part 25 - Subversion (Friday, 22 August, 1969) The cabinet table was far too big for them, so they sat around an occasional table in Peggy's private office. Uncharacteristically, Peggy Wedgwood Benn let the other two speak first. "Nationalisation, redistribution, jobs, education and health," said Jennie Lee. "There is no alternative," she added, unconsciously using a Peggyism. "Hmm," said Denis Healey portentously, "History shows that revolutions are at their most vulnerable in their early stages, both from within and without. Our best people should be in the Home Office and Defence." "Defence is not traditionally one of the great offices of state," Peggy lectured gently. "I'd take it in order to see the Programme not fail," Denis said determinedly. "Once we're established I'll gladly take Economic Planning or something." Economic Planning was a new ministry the troika had discussed before the election. Callaghan had been promised Chancellor of the Exchequer. But it was unthinkable that the Right should have control of the economy. So a parallel portfolio would be created. Healey had favoured 'Central Planning'. Lee had scoffed, any HMG department was central by its nature. Besides, as a radically reforming government, it was best to have the trappings of as little change as possible. 'Economic' was a good adjective. As Lee observed, everybody these days was in favour of economics. "Well then, Defence is yours, Denis," said Peggy. Jennie looked at Peggy. "Home Secretary?" she asked. Peggy returned the gaze. "I think so." "Who does that leave with seniority for Economic Planning?" asked Denis. Peggy barely hesitated. "Foot." Jennie frowned, "He's not really one of us." "True," replied Denis, "but most of the Programme lack experience." "Yes," said Peggy, "after a year or two we can have a reshuffle and have a real Cabinet, one that's truly committed to Socialism. One that has equal unity of purpose and real conviction. In the meantime we must walk before we run." "With Michael in Planning we'll have a vacancy in the Foreign Office," observed Jennie. A smile played on Denis' lips. "Jimmy?" he proposed mischievously. "That's not such a daft idea," said Jennie. "He could travel with the Prime Minister's imprimatur and leave Peggy at home to maintain a firm hand." "So who would fill the gap at Energy?" asked Denis. "John Stonehouse seems sound," said Jennie. Peggy nodded. The Cabinet was taking shape. Idly, Jennie wondered if Denis and Peggy were right. Was subversion such a threat to their democratically elected government?

(Saturday, 23 August, 1969) Ross McWhirter called the first meeting of the Unison Central Executive to order with a curt, "Bentine! Stop gurning! There's important business to be done. There were two portraits on the wall behind McWhirter's chair. One, obviously, Her Majesty, a vision of youthful beauty in lemon chiffon. The other, bordered in a new black frame, General Sir Walter 'Howling Mad' Walker, now sadly departed. "Apologies: Sir Varyl Begg, Sir John Slessor, Young GK and Cavendish A. For the rest of you, thank you for showing up at such short notice. Item One:" said McWhirter, reading from his prepared agenda, "The whole country has gone completely mad, voting out Enoch, the best prime minister since Winston and potentially," he emphasised the word, "potentially the best prime minister of all time. As you all know Enoch has stepped down and the best intelligence is," he held up a copy of the Telegraph, "that Macleod will emerge to lead the Conservatives. Meanwhile the country will go to the dogs and our brave boys will be pulled out of Vietnam and Ireland." "Bet you'd like to give those Viet Cong what for, Ross!" enthused Michael Bentine. "No, not really. If the war is over I'd be happy to buy any Viet Cong a drink. Honourable opponents. You fight them in an away game and they stick to their home ground. No, it's those murderous Irish I hate. How dare they let their bombs off in our country?" McWhirter returned to the agenda, "Item Two: Chaos, prevention thereof. There is no question of Unison members taking the law into their own hands. We must obey the properly constituted authorities. But should the Socialists go too far, should good order break down..." "As it will inevitably do," noted Bentine sagely. "As it may inevitably do, with Labour and their trade unionists, single mothers, Irishmen and shirtbandits[1] all running amok. In extremis, we expect Her Majesty to appoint a sound man prime minister, prorogue Parliament, and await for good order to reassert itself. You can be sure the lefty layabouts won't like that! So that it will be up to men like us..." Bentine looked around the room at the empty chairs. McWhirter didn't miss a beat, "...to ensure essential services are maintained in the interregnum. Item Three: Recruitment. Initially we should aim for 100,000 members, rising to 3 million in the longer term. I look for all those present to do their share. Other business: Is there any other business?" Bentine shook his head. "In that case let us conclude with the Queen." McWhirter stood and Bentine followed suit, The two men sang the national anthem. Bentine thought it best not to do this in his Professor voice.

Officially, the grenade was stolen by a VC, who successfully escaped after the attack. Within a year the underground press would claim a shadowy government conspiracy to silence a dangerous witness. Realistically it was a fragging, sadly an all too frequent assassination attempt on a junior officer by more experienced enlisted men, adapting John Stuart Mill's dictum about the greatest good for the greatest number. But Lieutenant Joseph Kerrey did not die. On returning Stateside the VA hospital fitted him with artificial feet. He could never have children, there were no prosthetics for that wound. And because of his injuries and despite My Lai, he was given an honourable discharge. And so Bob found himself in Nebraska, foot-loose and fancy-free. He decided to start a restaurant chain. The reporter found him. One of the papers out East. My Lai had been unsuccessfully hushed up and there were a number of journalists with their eyes on the Pulitzer Prize. Bob was happy to talk, he had nothing to hide. Senator Charles Goodell (R-NY) was inquiring in Washington about the Dallas program. Dallas was entirely an initiative of the Johnson administration. Goodell, a sceptic on the Asian war, felt no pangs of disloyalty in asking the tough questions. In time Walter Cronkite himself would be asking the tough questions, such as, "Does the scandal of My Lai represent a watershed for this presidency?" Once Walt had said this every journalist in the land felt free to refer to the 'Watershed Scandal'.

(Monday, 8 September, 1969) Peggy had assured Jimmy that she would still undertake some state visits as prime minister. Perhaps even together. But Jimmy had first to do the spadework. The first overseas port of call for most British PMs would be Washington. But Peggy couldn't see the point. As far as she could see, Johnson was a lost cause, past persuading. Nevertheless, the Americans should be reassured. So it was Jimmy who crossed the Atlantic, a voice in the wilderness for Socialism. But his first point of call was not the Vice-President but the Soviet Foreign Minister, who was in New York to address the United Nations. Peggy held the USSR and her Eastern Bloc allies in almost equal contempt with America. With one exception. She hoped they might be 'persuadable'. The Foreign Secretary was to make arrangements for Peggy's forthcoming lecture tour. Just before coming to New York, Jimmy had attended a surgery for Peggy. Increasingly he was doing this, Peggy was frequently busy these days and as a Lord it wasn't as if he had constituents of his own. One of the good burghers of Bristol South East was petitioning for a distant cousin in Damascus. As far as Jimmy followed the tale the Syrian government had expelled all her Jews, some of whom had been living in the country for centuries. Then there was a change of policy and the residue were forbidden to leave, effectively being held hostage. Jimmy wasn't sure he'd captured all the fine details of the case. While his sympathies were with the cousin, the intercessor himself, who consistently referred to the recalcitrant foreign government as "those bloody socialists", had a personality that Jimmy found abrasive. Still, here was Gromyko, who might have some influence on his client state. "Ah, those Chernozhopyi!" said Andrei 'call me Andy' Gromyko with an expansive hand gesture. The translator blushed, and used the word 'Asians' for Chernozhopyi. Jimmy had been introduced to her but had almost immediately forgotten her name. Probably Natasha. They were usually called Natasha. There had been one man who wasn't, proving that there was an exception to every rule. "Israelis, Syrians, Indians, Chinese, Japanese - they're all Asians," Andy continued, "with their debts of honour and their wife burning and their ritual suicide. Murderous fanatics and xenophobes, all of them. Why, if we didn't need our atom bombs for the Americans..." Jimmy had been taking the opposite side of the argument since Winchester and he deemed it time to do so again. "How can you possibly compare the Syrians in murderousness with, well, the Nazis?" "I wouldn't," said Andy, "The Nazis were defeated before the Syrians gained independence. You must compare the Syrians with other post-War nations." "So all the Germans that we in the RAF killed don't count?" asked Jimmy. "Hey!" cried Andy, his competitive instincts aroused, "The Red Army were no slouches in killing Fascist civilians either, you know." "I know," agreed Jimmy, "But if you're measuring murderous xenophobia in the post-war period, then who's killed the most foreigners since 1945?" Andy looked at Jimmy. Jimmy looked at Andy. "Korea, Vietnam, Laos[2]," prompted Jimmy. "The Americans?" Andy asked incredulously, "Hah! If Soviet Union uses her nuclear arsenal we will kill more than Hitler, Hirohito, Truman and Johnson put together!" "Yes, but if you use your arsenal then the Americans will use theirs. Theirs is a bigger arsenal and so they'll still be ahead." "Bother!" said Andy or at least that was how Natasha translated it. "Maybe world peace is still for the best. A toast to peace?" "Including peace with Asians?" Jimmy inquired. A brief pause and then Andy said, "Yes," in English. Which was good because Natasha was off collecting a bottle of clear liquid and two glasses, the twain rather small to Jimmy's eye. "Do you have any pint mugs?" he asked. "Yes," chortled Andy, "Clearly you are a man we can do business with!" [If you'll just let me continue.]

[1] Author's note: I'm not sure what McWhirter means by this word. Then again, I'm not sure he does, either. [2] There has been no American invasion of Laos thus far in this timeline. But bombing of the nation through which the Ho Chi Minh trail runs has been extensive.