Free Target Churchill by Warren Adler Page B

contempt. “There is nothing more tranquil than the grave. It is not my intention to repair there in the near future.” He paused and then muttered, “Although there are some who would like to hasten such a journey.”
    Benson was taken aback by the sudden outburst and wasn’t sure how to respond. Churchill suddenly relaxed and took another puff on his cigar, blowing the smoke upward.
    â€œI hadn’t planned any meetings with the fourth estate for the time being. But my daughter is quite persuasive. I thought perhaps, in a fair exchange, you might give me some insight into what’s happening in Washington.”
    â€œBe my pleasure, Mr. Churchill.”
    â€œHow is our new president faring these days?” Churchill asked. “We did get a chance to know each other in Potsdam. Perhaps if I hadn’t attended and stuck to my political last, I might still be living at Number 10.”
    A brief shadow of regret seemed to pass over his eyes, dulling them for a moment. He paused, recovering, and then asked cheerfully, “Do you think Mr. Truman has a chance to be elected on his own?”
    Benson felt flattered by the question and determined to give the answer his best shot.
    â€œToo early to tell, sir,” Benson said. “He’s got two years to solidify himself. At the moment, I’d put him in the political danger zone. There are stirrings on his left and right flank. He may find himself in a real fight. I think it will be a Republican win, although I’m only speculating. The bomb thing gave him heft, but most pundits think his days are numbered in the White House.”
    â€œHazardous business, politics.”
    He shrugged and looked upward as if consulting a muse.
    â€œPolitics is almost as exciting as war and quite as dangerous. In war, you can only be killed once but in politics many times.” He shook his head and smiled. “I do admire the man. Took a lot of gumption to make that decision to drop the bomb. Franklin might have done it, although one can’t be certain, but it was Truman after all who gave the order. The destruction it wrought was beyond belief. Truman was told about its frightening power, and it certainly did get the attention of the Japanese warlords. To his everlasting credit, that decision finished the war in the East. Indeed, many a parent or wife or sweetheart or child of an Allied soldier owe the man a debt of gratitude.”
    â€œTo you as well, sir.”
    â€œYou think so, Benson? In their wisdom, the British public thought otherwise.”
    â€œHistory will be a better judge, sir.”
    â€œCan one depend on the judgment of history? I have found that a contemporary outlook far different than our own always determines history. History might judge Mr. Truman as a brutal murderer of thousands of innocents in a horrific
Götterdämmerung
. And I? Already there are rumblings that I am responsible for the destruction of Dresden. As if what their bombers did to Coventry and London was playacting. Without the passion of our desperate struggle, how would it be possible for future historians to summon up the raw emotion of our time? They will look at our struggle through the wrong end of the telescope. Perhaps even Hitler will be cleansed of his legacy of evil. Indeed, people might say he didn’t finish the job of the so-called final solution.”
    â€œYou’re being very pessimistic, sir.”
    â€œNot really. Even revisions get revised.”
    Benson knew he had to steer the conversation beyond the historical. His editor had given him a specific assignment. With time fleeting, he plunged ahead.
    â€œTell me about what you’ll be doing and saying at Westminster College in March,” Benson said, hoping he was being casual and only mildly interested.
    His mind had focused on a quote he had read on the train, attributed to Edward R. Murrow, saying that Churchill had “marshaled the power of words and