Updated Sunday 15 May, 2011 12:18 PM

North of the Border

I’m standing on top of a hill looking into the Promised Land.

Like Moses, I’ll never see it, unless a miracle happens.

But miracles don’t happen in this day and age.

It was our mistake; I admit it from the start. It was our – my - decision to summon the former prime minister to form a government. It was I who broke with constitutional rules, however unwritten, to appoint Lord Halifax as Prime Minister of Great Britain and Her Empires.

Halifax proved to be the worst wartime prime minister we ever had. No other prime minister ever presided over complete and utter defeat.

His attempts to make a peace deal allowed that jackal Hitler to scent blood. His tanks and troops pressed onwards towards Dunkirk and defeated the British troops there. Over ten thousand troops were killed or captured in a gallant last stand. Britain had lost her only army at a stroke.

The process of disintegration began almost at once. Spain, Japan, Italy, even Argentina, all declared war. Within two weeks, we had lost the Falklands, Gibraltar, Egypt, Singapore and Hong Kong.

Defeats led to disaster. Indian nationalists started an uprising and we lost India. Iraq rose too and the so-called Duce now calls it his closest friend. The Saudis slipped towards the axis. The empire tottered.

And then came denouncement.

Hitler saw how weak we were and gambled everything on his mad plan. Britain was weakened for lack of weapons and political crisis. I had to appoint Churchill as PM before he simply took it, but it was too late. German troops landed at Dover in august.

The reminder of the war took only a few weeks. The Germans built up rapidly in their pocket and then struck outwards for London. We had nothing in their path that could stop them. Most of the trained troops had been killed or captured, the militia had no weapons, the only advantage we had was in our numbers. It wasn’t enough.

Before London could fall, we were spirited away to Liverpool to board a battleship. I chose instead to go with Churchill and the reminder of the armed forces to fight in Scotland. He objected, but finally gave it, particularly when the Nazis invited my brother back to take the throne.

The Nazis believed that there was still a massive Scottish independence movement. Seeing the chance for another Vichy, they gave Scotland independence, after they’d wiped out much of the possible leadership. Nateully, a group of opportunists came forward and proclaimed an independent republic of Scotland.

At first, most Scotsman ignored them, but soon, once more reasonable elements became involved, they tended to go along with the government. The lack of a major nazi presence and the flow of refugees from England with their horror stories made going along with the Scottish government much more popular, as did the preparations for resistance if the nazis ever crossed the border.

I dared to hope that one day America would enter the war. Churchill was less optimistic, he believed that the logistic problems would make it impossible for them to liberate Britain. And then Moscow and Stalingrad vanished in nuclear fire in 1945 and the war ended.

With Germany and America now having the capability to destroy each other, the prospects of a liberation mission became impossible. A cold war started and the two sides could only glower at each other from across the Atlantic.

So, here I stand, north of the border. Exiled from the land I once ruled as King.

And there is no going back…

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