From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 64)

The best that can be said of the new CINC is that he isn’t a Navy man, and I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel for compliments here. He’s ex-regular army, if you can believe it. Probably thinks a secret message is something you write in soap on a mirror. He knows about military tactics and strategy, at least when it comes to moving around lots of men, but when it’s a solo operative, or a team of two, the fellow doesn’t have a clue. It’s been suggested by a couple of the other old hands that I need to take him aside and have a word about some of our less-honourable ways of working. I have no intention of doing so. Either he knows exactly what kind of demon he’s leading by the nose and is being wilfully ignorant of our more outlandish ops, or he’s a fool. In none of these instances do I wish to trouble him with the realities of our work.

For once I’m keeping my head down and carrying on with the job. My reports will be masterpieces of brevity, focusing almost entirely on the successful outcome and not on the manner in which it was achieved. If a mission goes awry, then as far as I am concerned, I wasn’t there, and I didn’t do it. I shall have to convince Alice to do the same, for now. She’s much more honourable than me, generally, but her sense of duty is weaker. More than once she’s risked her neck, and the mission, to rescue me, which is quite sweet and naïve of her, but which must never, never go in a report (of course, if I rescue her, then I’m merely performing my duty as her superior officer as I’m meant to look after those underneath me).

She quite likes the new CINC and thinks I should give him a chance. Again, delightfully naïve of her, but I have no intention of giving him anything - least of all my trust.