Hello, been a while since I’ve done a non Star Wars fanfiction.
Outside of Star Wars, the 1968 musical Chitty Chitty Bang Bang has become one of my favorite movies.

CHITTY CHITTY BANG BANG FLIES AGAIN!


1914


The Great War quickly overtook England. Young and middle-aged men were called into battle, placed into the trenches, battleships and airplanes of His Majesty's Armed Forces.

Planes were in the air, men were marching through the cold, bitter plains with their rifles positioned against their chests, and artillery was loaded aboard the Royal Navy dreadnoughts.


It wasn't just Britain caught up in the craze.
Armies and navies across France, Germany and Russia were preparing for war as well. Officers shouting orders, rulers conducting speeches over the radio, and men saying goodbye to their wives, sweethearts and families.

It was late at night at the seashore dock where military ships were preparing to launch into the Thames.
Inside the dreadnought HMS Confection, gunnery officer Commander Lemmon prowled between the lines of working uniformed men carrying ammunition missiles through the ship. Carrying a whip for military discipline. Lemmon was a sour-faced, mustachioed gentleman with a distinguished military career. He meant business and was not afraid to exploit every last muscle in the bodies of the men under him.

"Come on men," he urged, "This is war! We've got to show those Germans the might of his Royal Highness."

“Sire, we’re tired and hungry,” a meek-voiced crewman complained.


“Talking out of ranks?” Lemmon snapped, “That’ll be solitary confinement.” He raised the whip in his hand and thrashed it at the small man, causing him to wail in pain.

The rest of the crew was sweating and aching as they loaded the cannons in place.

“Faster!” Lemmon shouted, cracking his whip again.
Lemmon stalked out of the artillery room as the men prepared the shells to fire.

“Blimey,” a man named Cole said, “He’s got us bending to the bone with no rest. I’m starved!”


“Oh, cheer up, good man,” Caractacus Potts said with a bright smile unusual among the working crewmen of the Confection, “Soon this will all be over and we’ll be back on the shore and with our family.”

“With respect, sir, that’s easy for you to say,” Cole replied, “The Commander hired you for your genius designs of rockets and artillery. You’re his golden boy.”


“Now don’t say that, Cole,” Potts replied, “We’re all equally worthy parts of the team. I may have built these, but without all of us, we’d never have this old boat ready.”

“How long is this going to take?” another seaman named Robinson, “We’ve yet to be ready to launch and the Commander will be making all of us suffer until we are on the open seas.”

“This is miserable work,” a fourth worker named Goldsmith, “I’d rather die than slave away another day.”


“Don’t take that attitude, men,” Caractacus lightly chided, “We have a lot to be grateful for. We’re standing here, alive and well. They haven’t taken us yet.”


“It’s going to be a long, bloody war,” Robinson said grimly.”


“Yes, but as long as we got our good spirits,” Cactacarus replied, taking a skip across the deck, “They can’t lay a finger on us. Just keep a light.”

“Keep a light?” someone asked.


As Cactacarus skipped across the deck again, he began to sing.

Always hold your light, tight to you,
Keep a light and hold it true,
Whenever you find
Yourself in a bind,
Your light will see you through.

The men stood up straight at attention, lined up on either side of the gunnery as Cactacarus pranced down the middle.

Keep yourself a nightlight, carry a lantern,
And you’ll never feel afraid,
You’ve got something for protection,
And a soothing song is played,

Always hold a light, tight to you,
Keep a light and hold it true.

In a military fashion, Cactacarus marched up and down the middle, tipping his cap to the other crew workers in the dreadnought.

Cactacarus picked up an ammunition shell and set it in place. The other men did the same, following him in line as they assembled the cannons and missile launchers on the Confection.

This process occurred on either side of the walkway. Reaching the end, Cactacarus resumed marching. The two lines of seamen followed him as he pranced back and forth along the planks.

A light to guide you to another day,
Hold on to your light and you will find your way,
With your special light you’ll be safe and sound,
You’ll have everything you need to get around.

Their spirits lifted, the navy men sang along with Cactacarus as he led them in a dancing line.

Always hold a light, tight to you
Keep a light and hold it true,
Whenever you find yourself in a bind, your light will see you through.


The men repeated the process of picking up a missile or cannonball and lining it up to fire, Cactacarus leading the way. He then led them marching in a line, circling around.

Cactacarus reached and picked up a rusty old lantern, switching it on and lighting up the gloomy gunnery room.

He sang the next verse alone;

When I need reassuring, I follow the light,
I hold my light tightly, I’m ready for the fight,
Whatever comes my way, I know I have something to hold onto,
Something dear, something clear, my light to carry me through.

The military workers sang along in a slow chorus.

The light to see us through...........

 

Far from the River Thames and the naval bases built alongside it, a nice white and shiny mansion rested alongside a gravel road.

This mansion belonged to the famous, successful inventor Caractacus Potts and his wife Truly, who owned the candy factory that had once been her father’s.


Two blonde-haired children of around twelve walked across the field. They each carried a book bag and a sack for their lunches.

Neither Jeremy nor Jemima Potts had missed a day of school in four years.
Their father had begun to teach them the importance of pragmatism and responsibility since he’d married their beloved Truly Scrumptious.

While the children still loved Truly like she was their own mother, neither of them turned around as she came rushing after them through the lush green field, her pink gown trailing behind her.

“Children!” Truly called to Jeremy and Jemima, “Children.”

When the two of them turned around, she asked, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a ride to school in Chitty? It’s been so long since you’ve been for a drive.”

Jemima looked up at her with interest, but Jeremy shook his head.
“No thank you, Truly. We’d rather walk, wouldn’t we, Jemima?”

Jemima glanced down at her little shoes before replying, “Yes, sorry Truly. We want the other children to know that we are as grown up as they are.”

Truly gazed down at the children with a mixture of affection and sadness. It seemed just yesterday that they were running to the motorcar with excitement, eager to take a picnic to the beach and play.

“All right then. Goodbye children. Make sure you get to school on time.”


“Bye, Truly,” Jeremy and Jemima said, waving to their stepmother as they hurried out of the gate onto the street.

Truly looked on sadly as the two children disappeared around the shrubbery wrapped all over the black gate.

Then she turned and headed back into the house where she and Caractacus had built their life together.

Inside the kitchen, Grandpa Potts set down his mug and stood up from the table. He was dressed in his military uniform not unlike the one his son Caractacus had received before being commissioned into the navy.

“Ah, good morning Miss Truly,” he said.

“Good morning Grandpa,” Truly replied.
She hesitated before speaking.

“The children have been so much moodier since their father went away to the war.”


“They’ll be all right,” Grandpa replied reassuringly, slapping his military cap over his bald head, “They’ve become quite self reliant lately.”

“Yes, but all the same, I do worry about them. And about Caractacus. We don’t know how long this war will last.”

“Oh, I imagine the old boy will be all right,” Grandpa said, “He’s got my tough soldier blood in him.”


“Yes, I suppose,” Truly replied half-heartedly.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to dine with Kaiser Wilhelm,” Grandpa said, grabbing his walking stick.

“Oh Grandpa, don’t you think you should give it up soon?” Truly asked, “You’re not as young as you once were.”

“Nonsense, Truly, nonsense,” Grandpa scoffed, “If I’m not traveling, I’m just sitting at home all day. Now Cheerio, my good Madam. I’m off.”

And so Grandpa trotted off with his walking stick and marched out the door and down the field towards the gate.

Truly sighed, taking Grandpa’s mug to the kitchen sink and washing it. She was alone now in the big mansion.

 

Well, I wasn't expecting Potts to break out in song and dance.

Is he a civilian contractor? The sailor said he had been 'hired'.

Very good visuals and descriptions. Easy to immerse oneself in this world you have created.

I don't remember any war going on in the titular film, so aside from the title, and the presence of Caractus Potts, this seems like its own unique thing.

Good beginnings.

 

Enjoying this very much

 

Throwing out a random idea or two:
1. A character named Bond, since the movie was based on a Ian Fleming novel.
2. Bert showing up at some point would be amusing for extra Dick van Dyke.

Edit: Oh, and if I have to have this song stuck in my head, so does everyone else.

 

deleted scene

 

Tell them, Truly!

 

After school that day, Jemima saw Jeremy trotting by himself from the fenced area to the road leading back home.

“Jeremy!” she called, racing to catch up to her brother. “Jeremy, wait for me!”


Jeremy did not turn around or stop walking.

When Jemima caught up to him, she said, “Jeremy, wait for me!”

Jeremy glanced at his sister and said, “Listen, Jemima, I don’t think we should walk to school together anymore.”

Jemima felt a sharp pang of surprise and hurt. “What?” she asked, “Why not?”

“I think we’re getting too old to be seen together,” Jeremy replied.

“But we’re brother and sister!” Jemima protested.

“That’s what I mean, rather. I don’t want the other children to see us,” Jeremy said solemnly, “I’d rather walk home alone, if you don’t mind.”


Jemima felt tears reach her eyes as Jeremy hurried along the road alone, determined not to be seen with his sister.

After her brother disappeared, the tearful Jemima started her own way home.


The navy men marched up the stairs from below the deck into the open air overlooking the military harbor.

Similar battleships surrounded the Confection, with officers barking orders and crewmen falling in line.

The blue and red British flag hung high on top of the masts, visible many miles away from the naval base.


The men marched up the stairs from below the deck into the open air overlooking the military harbor.



“I hope the Commander is satisfied with our work,” Goldsmith remarked, “I’d hate to endure another thrashing.”



“Great work from everybody,” Caractacus said, “I’m sure they’ll be happy with the contributions from all of us.”


“I must say, Potts,” Cole remarked, “Your optimism during this gloomy age is quite admirable.”



Caractacus replied, “Like I said, I have a lot to be grateful for. My wife Truly, my beautiful Jeremy and Jemima. They’re the light that guides me through this. Whenever I think about them waiting for me at home, I can’t stay down.”



“Fall into line!” Commander Lemmon snapped as he appeared on deck with his whip in hand and rifle strapped to his back.


The men quickly assembled two rows on either side of the pathway and saluted.



“Now the men here have done excellent work preparing this old ship for war,” Lemmon said, “But nobody has done more for our effort than the inventor Caractacus Potts. Potts, step forward.”



Caractacus flushed with embarrassment as his fellow crewmen looked pointedly at him.


“Potts!” Lemmon repeated.


Caractacus stepped forward as humbly as he could.



Lemmon thrashed the decl with his whip.


“Bring up the cargo!” he shouted towards the ramp leading from the shore onto the dreadnought.



Several strong men came pushing crates strapped into vices up onto the ship. The men looked at the cargo curiously as Caractacus gazed down at his boots.



Lemmon plucked a crate of of the vice it was tied to and placed it onto the deck.


Opening it up, Lemmon pulled out a rocket-pack that Caractacus had first constructed four years earlier to disastrous effect, and had since perfected.



“These brilliant flying devices were built by our very own Potts,” Lemmon said, “I have had him built just enough for all of our soldiers on board. These rockets will not only be used to fire at the enemy dreadnoughts when we take to the open waters, but they will also allow our men to fly. The Germans will stand no chance against our might. Potts, my boy, you have contributed more to our struggle than anyone else before me on deck. And for that, I commend you.”



Potts could not help but notice the resentful stares that the other men were sending him.

Lemmon smiled under his twisted mustache as more deliverymen brought up cannons built by Caractacus.


“Yes, it’s true,” Lemmon went on, “Our boy Caractacus has built us many advanced tools to use against the enemy powers. With our might, they will stand no chance.

And now, presenting the esteemed Admiral Fleming.”



The men waited as the Admiral came aboard the ship, falling into line once again.


“Excellent work, as Commander Lemmon has said already,” the old, bearded Admiral Fleming said, “And now, our fleet is ready to take to the water. We will move across the River Thames into the Atlantic, then go around and surprise the Germans.”



Caractacus wished direly that the officers would not praise him so much in front of the other men.


He looked slighty off towards the dock and beyond the base towards the road, which led miles away to the rural home where he, Truly and the children lived.


The elderly Admiral Fleming drew a pistol and raised it into the air. Seeing him, officers on dreadnoughts across the harbor raised their guns as well to fire.


The sound of bullets shooting into the sky signaled the launch of the naval fleet into the Thames.



As the battleships sailed through the grand river past the scenery and towards the north Atlantic, Commander Lemmon shouted, “Prepare the rockets of war!”


The crewmen came marching across the deck, carrying the rockets built by Caracatus. Each naval soldier was wearing a backpack with an array of rockets tied to it, ready to launch upon lighting a match.


“We’ve still got a great deal of work to do,” Commander Lemmon said, “Caractacus, step forward.”



Reluctantly, Caractacus emerged from the ranks of the uniformed men, armed with a rocket like the rest of them and wearing a pack strapped behind him.


“As the brilliant creator of these war machines, you will explain to these simpletons how they work.”


“Now, Commander,” Caractacus said hesitantly, “I don’t know that it‘s fair to call them simpletons. Once they learn....”


Lemmon thrashed the railing with his whip threateningly.

“Get on with it, Potts! We haven’t got all day!”



“All right, Commander,” Potts stammered, “Now you see, men, the thing with these rocket packs is that you’ve got to light it at just the right time and spot. If you do it wrong, you could find yourself a mess of cinders and ashes.”


“A demonstration, perhaps?” Lemmon inquired.



Caractacus gulped nervously before reaching into his pocket for a box of matches.



“You see this string here?” he asked the observing seamen, pulling the shortest of the strings attached to the rockets.


“This string right here gets you up in the air only a short distance,” Caractacus said, striking the box with a match and placing it to the short string as it lit on fire.


A second later, Caractacus’s feet left the ground.


Now you see?” he asked them, “I’m off the ground, but not too much. You got to be able to steer your body.”


“Show them how it’s done, Potts,” Lemmon said.

As Caractacus used his feet to lift himself up higher, he prepared to break out into song.

"This propulsion unit may seem like a simple machine, but you’ll find that steering it won’t be quite so keen.”


Caractacus continued to fly across the deck of the battleship, accidentally bumping into the nearby cabins and masts as he broke out into song.

You’ve got to light the string right here to blast you off the ground,
Once the rocket booster’s lit you’ll be floating right around,

But flying’s not a simple task for any man or car,
For you’ve got to steer your body engine, that’ll take you far,

You’ve got to be careful not to fly too high off the ground,
be careful not to fly away and wind up in the clouds,

You’ve got to learn it step by step,
How to lift up off your feet,
But keep control of your engine and don’t burn up on heat!"

The men laughed as Caractacus struggled to keep himself afloat, using his body weight to keep himself low while allowing the rockets to keep him off the deck.

Once Caractacus regained control of the propulsion unit, he resumed singing, performing a midair dance along with it.


To be a human rocket you must balance in the air,
Once you’ve got the groove of flying, the sky will take you anywhere,

And a 5 4 3 2 1, rocket taking off, rocket taking off, though one might frown, you see it now and really that’s enough,
And a 5 4 3 2 1 and a rocket taking off!


Commander Lemmon was clapping along and smiling. “Good,” he said with a grin, “Now let’s put it to the test.”

Lemmon gestured for Caractacus to come to the ground. The inventor reached behind him and pulled the switch that allowed him to gracefully lower back onto the dock of the battleship.


Dancing along to the beat, Caractacus, Admiral Fleming, and Commander Lemmon took several propulsion units out of the crates and began passing them along to the eager seamen.


Commander Lemmon produced a slow, vigorous verse of his own:

Propulsion unit, weapon of war,
Rocket booster, give me more,
Fire the rockets, humans in the sky,
They will never beat us as long as we can fly,
For Caractacus has got a brilliant invention,
An invention he has finally completed to perfection,
And so our navy men will prove worthy of the Confection!

The men put on their rocket packs as Commander Lemmon lit several matches and set fire to the strings attached to the men’s rocket packs.

As soon as the soldiers lifted off the deck of the sailing ship, they began floating uncontrollably, shouting in fear and calling out for help.

Commander Lemmon cringed as the men crashed into each other and the dreadnought’s masts and railings.

On the other hand, Admiral Fleming laughed and danced along.

Cole found the dock and the rest of the HMS Confection disappear from under his airborne boots and grabbed on to the railing as he nearly went splashing into the River Thames.

“Help me!” Cole cried out desperately as he tried to climb back up, his grip slipping as he struggled to hold on for dear life.

“I’m slipping!” Cole called as Caractacus Potts ran over to him and seized the hands of his fellow navy soldier.

Caractacus pulled Cole up onto the dock without missing a beat.

The men came falling back down in a heap of coughing, smoke, and flame.
Caractacus repeated his previous verse:


To be a human rocket you must balance in the air,
Once you’ve got the groove of flying, the sky will take you anywhere,

He added a new rendition to the song:
And a 6 5 4, and the rockets blasting off, and a 3 2 1, don’t let yourself fall off,

For the sky’s the limit, yes the sky is the limit,
Once you’ve got your rocket groove!


The bumbling navy men coughed and sputtered over the ashes and smoke as Commander Lemmon glared angrily at them, raising his whip.

 

Sad for Jemima and Jerry. The whole family seems fragmented.

 

Aw, I’m sorry.

The story may seem a little bleaker than I meant it to be, but I promise it won’t stay that way!

Thanks for reading so far

 

I'm enjoying the songs and at the moment, Caractacus in his wartime duty seems to have found his niche as the men's teacher - oooh, that Lemmon ought to be court-martialed, though.

 

Ahhh Ferus, it’s really good so far.

 

Truly was sitting on the swing in the garden alone as she saw Jeremy coming alone across the field from the gate.


Feeling immediately as though something was wrong, Truly got up and rushed over to him, catching him as he reached the doorstep of the mansion.


“Whatever is the matter, Jeremy?” Truly asked, “Where’s Jemima?”


Jeremy looked up at her with a mixture of guilt and determination.

“She’ll be home soon, I think,” he replied.

“Well why didn’t the two of you walk home together?” Truly asked in bewilderment. Something was clearly wrong.

“It’s just not very grown up to walk home with my sister,” Jeremy replied matter-of-factly.

Truly was stunned at this sudden behavior. Before she could compose herself enough to reply, Jeremy lifted the latch to open the door and went inside the mansion.


“Whatever is the matter?” Truly wondered out loud.

She then saw Jemima appear through the green, flowery field, looking forlorn.

Truly ran to her, stopping Jemima in her tracks.

“Jemima!” she exclaimed, bending down so that her face was level with Jemima’s, “what happened? Why didn’t you and Jeremy come home together.”

Jemima looked down at her shoes, her voice cracking as she spoke.

“Jeremy...doesn’t want to walk to school with me anymore,” she said.

“What?” Truly exclaimed, “Why not?”

“Some of the other boys were mean,” Jemima replied, “They called him a sister loving sissy.”


“I really ought to go down to the school and talk to them,” Truly said, “Come along.”

Truly took Jemima by the hand and led her into the house.

“Jeremy!” she called.

Jeremy had just sat down at the desk in his room to start his homework. He hurried down the stairs to where Truly and Jemima were waiting.

“Yes, Truly?” he asked, unable to look her in the face.

Truly crossed her arms.

“Is it true that you refused to walk home with your sister because of what the boys said?”


“Yes, Truly,” Jeremy replied guiltily.

“Now listen,” Truly said sternly, “You two must always stick together. We’re a family and we must act like it, no matter how old you are.”


“But Truly, what about the other children?” asked Jeremy.


“Are they going to be there when you’re grown and out of school?” Truly asked, “Or is your sister Jemima?”

Jeremy looked down in shame.

Truly began to pace the floor as she prepared to sing a soft, slow melody:

The two of you must always remember to stick together,
Together, we will always be family forever

Jemima and Jeremy, sister and brother,
Remember the days you both came along, since then I’ve loved you two like a mother,

You may be older but the fact remains

We’ll all be a family the rest of our days,

And so dear children who I love so,
Take my hands and away we go....

Truly took both Jeremy and Jemima by the hand and led them towards the doorway leading out of their mansion.

“But Truly, where are we going?” Jemima asked.


“It’s about time we took another drive in Chitty,” Truly replied, “That car’s been sitting in the garage far too long. It’s time to bring back some magic.”


“But Truly, the car isn’t magic,” Jeremy said, “There’s no such thing.”


Truly continued singing as she dragged both children across the field to the shed where both Chitty and her own motorcar rested.


Come with me children and you will see,
How very real your imagination can be

Rediscover your childhood joys,
While you are still young, darling girls and boys

An adventurous story of a faraway land,
A loving father to hold your hand,
Remember the days of childhood fun,
Cherish the years while you are still young


Truly skipped across the garage floor and climbed into the driver’s seat of the still-shiny Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, honking the horn.

Jeremy and Jemima both had tears of nostalgia in their eyes. They missed their father, but they could hear him encouraging them to go along with Truly in the car, enjoying themselves the way they did when they were younger.
Likewise, Truly’s longing for her husband was evident, her voice cracking as she sang, tears in her eyes.

Jeremy turned to his sister and said, “Jemima, I’m sorry I didn’t want to walk with you. I’ll never do that again. Can we be friends again?”
Jemima smiled and replied, “I’ll always be your best friend, Jeremy.”

The two siblings embraced and climbed into the backseat of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Truly pulled the throttle and drove out of the shed and onto the road that led through the field surrounding their majestic home. The two siblings had never appreciated each other more in that moment.

Truly continued to sing, this time joined by Jeremy and Jemima.

Remember the days of family fun,
The days that we must enjoy while we’re young,
Whatever comes next, in the road paved through.
I will remember the good times with you

As the car reached the black gate leading onto the road, Grandpa Potts came marching in, dressed in his military uniform and brandishing his walking stick.
Truly pulled the brake hard as Grandpa leapt out of the way.

“Blast it all!” he grumbled, “That nasty motorcar nearly ran me over!”


“Come with us, Grandpa, please!” Jeremy and Jemima begged.


“Nonsense, children, nonsense,” Grandpa replied, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you will never get me into one of those smelly oil machines.”


“Grandpa, we’re not taking no for an answer,” Truly replied, gazing sternly at her father-in-law.


“Oh, very well,” Grandpa replied, climbing into the backseat next to Jemima.

He couldn’t help but smile as his granddaughter gave him an embrace, and fondly stroked her stringy blond hair in return.


Truly resumed singing as they took to the empty open road.

Remember the days of childhood fun,
Cherish the years while you are still young,
Time cannot steal the love that is real,
Between us together today...



Grandpa finally joined in as the children sang along with Truly.

Remember the days, always let the memories stay,
The times we share together, nobody will take away,

While we’re here, while this fine car we steer,
Let us all enjoy this beautiful day.....

Let us all enjoy this beautiful day......

 

Sweet! Truly is wonderful.

 

I actually love how like sweet this is

 

It's a magical ride you've described here ...

 

Well done indeed Emperor Ferus.

More please.

 

As the car curved around the bend towards the cliff overlooking the beach, Grandpa Potts exclaimed, “We made it! We’re finally in the Sahara.”

“We’re not in the Sahara, Grandpa,” Jemima corrected, “We’re at the beach.”

“The beach?” Grandpa asked, “in a motorcar?”

“Yes,” Jeremy said.


“I’m going to be sick,” Grandpa muttered, coughing.


“Well, what do you all want to do first?” Truly asked as they all got out of the car, “Do you want to play in the sand?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Jemima replied, “I think we’re a little old to do that.”

Truly’s face fell. Just when she’d thought she’d made progress, the children were still growing faster than she could keep them from growing too fast.

The four of them hiked along the trail towards the beach, with Grandpa taking the lead and Jeremy and Jemima trailing behind Truly.



“Over there!” Truly pointed to a sailboat in the distance, “a boat! Is that just a boat, or is it a grand pirate ship?”
She remembered a day long ago when Caractacus had begun a similar story upon seeing about, taking them to the faraway land of Vulgaria.

As Truly spoke, she could visualize a Jolly Roger flag on the ship as she prepared her story.

Jeremy and Jemima became sad all of the sudden.


“Truly, is Daddy still on a boat?” Jeremy asked.

Truly’s story melted in her mind as she thought of her husband, away at war.

“Yes, I believe so,” she replied seriously.

“What I’d give to be out there now, showing the Germans the might of the British army,” Grandpa said offhandedly.

“Is he going to be all right?” Jemima asked.

“I...I can only hope so,” Truly said, gulping as she tried to hold back her deeper emotions. “Yes,” she added, trying to instill hope in herself as much as the children, “I know he is. He’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know?” Jeremy asked.


“Remember the lullaby your father used to sing?” Truly asked, “About Hushabye Mountain? That’s how I know. I imagine that mountain, and I see him waiting for us.”


“And the war?” Jemima asked.

“It’s completely over,” Truly said, “There’s no fighting, no military, just all of us together.”

Before long, the family reached the seashore, where the waves crashed against the rocks against a backdrop of sad, peaceful silence.

Grandpa trotted around the sand pretending his cane was a rifle.

“Is that the best you’ve got, Kaiser Wilhelm?” he asked, shooting his imaginary gun.

A short distance away, Truly sat down in the sand on their picnic blanket with Jeremy and Jemima.

“Do you see that mountain past the bay?" Truly asked the children, pointing to a mountain on an island visible just past the clouds that covered the late afternoon sun. "That's Hushabye Mountain." Truly knew that she was stretching, but she also knew that the children were still devoid of optimism, and she needed to lift their spirits, "I'll bet your father's on his way now, sailing through the gentle breeze."

“Isn’t he sailing to Germany?” asked Jeremy skeptically.


“He doesn’t need to,” Truly replied, “There is no war on Hushabye Mountain. There, everyone is happy and nobody has to worry about growing old, or sick, or losing their loved ones. There, your Daddy is waiting for us.”


The HMS Confection was quickly approaching land.

“Land ho!” Admiral Fleming shouted from atop the lookout perch on the highest mast.

The men rushed to the deck of the battleship to see the island for themselves.

Caractacus gaped at the beautiful sight of Hushabye Mountain. It was beyond his imagination.

He could see waterfalls pouring down the rainforest ravines, he could see brightly colored birds singing as they flew through the heavens, he could see trees of all colors poking out of the mountain.


“It’s beautiful,” Robinson gasped.

“Indescribable,” added Cole.

The men heard the all-too-familiar sound of Commander Lemmon slapping the deck with his whip as he marched towards the seamen.

“All right, soldiers,” he began, but the boat lurched before he could finish.
Crying out, Commander Lemmon stumbled and lost his balance, falling into off the ship into the water.


The men laughed as Lemmon sank and bobbed up again, sputtering as he treaded water. His cap was missing as he began to swim for shore.


“We’ve made it to Hushabye Mountain!” Caractacus said excitedly as the rest of the men let out a cheer.
“I told you,” he said, “I told you lot that it was real.”

“All men to your positions!” Admiral Fleming shouted from above, “Prepare to anchor!”


The men rushed down below to assume their positions and prepare the anchor.

Grunting as they pushed, the men twisted the large, metal lever that brought the rope tied to the anchor down into the water.

The massive dreadnought hit the sand as the anchor lowered and touched the sea floor.

The men let out another cheer as the ramp lowered from the ship onto the sand.

Caractacus was first onto the shore. He looked around at the flora and fauna, thinking how much it resembled a rainbow.

“Truly, Jeremy, Jemima, Grandpa, I wish you could all be here right now,” he said aloud, “It’s just as I always said it would be.”


The sound of a horn blew out as a group of dressed villagers came parading down the slope of the mountain.

Admiral Fleming stepped forward to greet them.

“Who goes there?” the old Admiral asked cautiously.

The chief raised his hand in salute.

“Greetings, foreign travelers. I am Chief of the village of Hushabye Mountain. We give you a warm welcome, and invite you to join in our
festivities.”

“Festivities?”


“Here on Hushabye Mountain, there’s always a party,” the Chief said with a grin, “Whatever troubles you bring here, leave them at the shore. You will never have to worry here. This is a place of eternal youth and laughter, free of sickness or violence.”

The Chief withdrew a baton from his robes as the villagers produced musical instruments.

Once the Chief waved his baton, the villagers began to play.

The men began to laugh and dance along to the beat.

The Chief led the villagers back up the mountain path as Admiral Fleming motioned for the men to follow. The navy men clapped and danced as they marched along after the villagers of Hushabye Mountain.
The instruments continued to play a lively tune as they all climbed up to the village.

Above the valleys, tree canopies and waterfalls, every villager house was made of shiny marble, and the streets were filled with dancing men and women, and playing children.

Musicians filled the cobblestone streets as children lined up at the toy shop to purchase all kinds of playthings.

The short, stocky Toymaker emerged and waved at Caractacus, who brightened immediately.

“Hello there, my friend,” the Toymaker called, “If it isn’t the savior of Vulgaria.”

Caractacus ran to embrace the jovial Toymaker.

“Oh, I’d hardly call myself a savior,” he said modestly, “I merey guided the children into freeing themselves.”


“And look at them now,” the Toymaker beamed, “They couldn’t be any happier on Hushabye Mountain. It’s just like you sang to them.”

Caractacus grinned as he watched the navy men join the dancing villagers. Children were running around and playing, not a sour face in sight.

“Say, where is the good woman, Miss Scrumptious?” the Toymaker asked, “And your two fine, beautiful children?”


Caractacus replied, “Oh, I imagine they’re coming here right now to meet us.”

He spotted a distant motorcar flying through the clouds, distinct by its shiny color and the three people inside it waving excitedly.

“It’s the flying car!” the Toymaker exclaimed, “What was it you called her, Chitty Bang, Bang Chitty?”

“Chitty Chitty Bang Bang,” Caractacus said, “That’s the one.”


A few of the men came to join Caractacus and the Toymaker.

“Is that...is that a flying car?” asked a crewman named Harvey.

“Not just any flying car, Harvey,” Caractacus replied, “She’s mine. Her and the beautiful woman and kids inside.”


“We’ve made it!” Jemima exclaimed from inside Chitty, “We’re here!”

“It’s Hushabye Mountain!” Jeremy said as Truly drove them towards the summit of the mountain where the villagers and navy soldiers alike were cheering them on.


Inside the sleeping quarters of the HMS Confection, Goldsmith said, “A flying motorcar?”

Caractacus nodded at the intrigued faces of the men gathered around him, listening to his story.

“That’s right, my very own design, that one,” he said, “And so everybody was happy on Hushabye Mountain.”


“Do you really have a flying motorcar, Caractacus?” asked Harvey.


“Why certainly, fixed her up myself,” Caractacus said, “She’s flown me and my young ones on many great adventures.”


“Come off it, do you lot really think there’s such thing as a flying motorcar?” a man named Warner questioned.

“Well, Mister Warner, I wouldn’t believe it myself either,” Caractacus told him.


“Of course he’s made one,” Robinson said, “He build us those flying machines, what were they called?”

“Propulsion units,” Caractacus said.


“Yes, of course,” Robinson replied, “And if you’ve given man the ability to fly, who is to argue what else you could do?”


Commander Lemmon and his lieutenants prowled by the door of the quarters, listening intently.

“A flying motorcar, he says?” Lemmon asked, forming a smile beneath his mustache, “I wonder why the devil he’s been keeping that from us.”

 

Wonderful family reunion.

 

Lemmon schemes amid storytelling -- uh oh. LOL at "the Sahara"!

 

The children had begun to doze off, both of them leaning on either side of Truly as she lovingly stroked their hair.

Grandpa had grown tired of playing solider and was walking through the sand towards Truly and the children.

“It’s getting late, I’d reckon,” Grandpa said, gazing at the lowering sun which was now beginning to turn red.

Truly looked between the sleeping Jeremy and Jemima, thinking about how young and vulnerable they appeared leaning against her.


“They don’t know the truth about the war,” she fretted, “If....” Truly stifled back a lump in her throat before continuing, “They don’t know the half of what’s going on. If something happens...to Caractacus, what am I going to do about them?”

“Now Truly,” Grandpa replied gently, “Think about what Caractacus would say if he was here. Any faith that you may have, hold on to it. I’m sure he’s got you and the children in his heart all the time. You are the light that he holds onto to guide him home.”


Truly glanced up at Grandpa Potts’s serene expression.

“Of course,” she replied, “but still, I worry.”


“I worry about my boy too,” Grandpa said, “but his genius is of great value to the navy, and I am also very proud of him for it.”


“So am I, I suppose,” Truly said with a sigh. “Shall we get the children home and fed?”

“Yes, I think that would be a good idea,” Grandpa replied.

Truly shook both Jeremy and Jemima awake, taking them each by the hand as she pulled them to their feet.

“Come children,” she said gently, “It will be time for dinner soon, I expect.”


“Is there really a Hushabye Mountain?” Jemima asked.

“I believe so,” Truly replied, “I really do believe there is.”


Night was following as Caractacus stood alone at the railing overlooking the water.

He gazed out at the twilight horizon, studying the stars. The other men had begun to respect him, he knew, and he appreciated that.

But Caractacus’s mind and heart were at home, with his beautiful wife and his wonderful children. He worried about them constantly. What if Jeremy and Jemima thought he was dead in war, or if Truly found out that he disappeared? What if his father’s health failed while he was away?


These thoughts haunted Caractacus as he began to sing a soft, slow verse.

Remember the days of childhood fun,
Cherish the years while you are still young,
Time cannot steal the love that is real,
Between us together today...

Caractacus began to pace the bleak, lonely dock as he continued the song. He could hear Truly in his mind singing along with him as he let out the notes.
Remember the days of family fun,
The days that we must enjoy while we’re young,
Whatever comes next, in the road paved through.
I will remember the good times with you,

Remember the days, always let the memories stay,
The times we share together, nobody will take away,

While we’re here, while this fine car we steer,
Let us all enjoy this beautiful day.....

Let us all enjoy this beautiful day......

Caractacus felt alone as he gazed out at the scenery, listening to the sound of the crashing waves and the engine of the battleship.

Caractacus didn’t realize that he wasn’t alone until Commander Lemmon spoke up from behind him.

“Beautiful out tonight, isn’t it my boy?”


Caractacus whipped around, immediately assuming the position of attention and raising his hand horizontally to his forehead in salute.

“At ease, soldier,” Lemmon chuckled, “There is no need for that now.”


“How are you tonight, Commander?” Caractacus asked amicably.

“I am well,” Lemmon replied, “I hope the labors of working aboard this fine ship are not getting to you too much.”

“No, sir,” Caractacus replied, somewhat nervous due to his commanding officer’s calm, friendly demeanor. “Happy to do my part to serve my country and His Majesty.”


“As you should be,” replied Lemmon, clapping Caractacus on the arm. “You have built fine rockets and cannons for our battleships. The British navy is indebted to you, Potts. But there is something I’d like to discuss.”

Caractacus frowned suspiciously, wondering what Commander Lemmon was playing at in acting so uncharacteristic.

“I could not help but overhear your tale of a motorcar, what was it’s name? I hear you built it yourself.”


“Yes sir,” Caractacus replied, still feeling uneasy, “My kids and I named it Chitty Chitty Bang Bang after the sound it makes.”


“Interesting,” Lemmon said, “Now this Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Is it true that she can fly?”


“Not many would believe it, Commander,” replied Caractacus, “But I’ve flown in her myself. My wife Truly and I.”

“And the children?”


“They’ve seen her go, but I’m afraid they don’t believe much in flying cars anymore,” Caractacus said, a twinge of nostalgia coming over him mixed with his worry and concern.

“A shame,” said Lemmon, “But since it is of no use to them, how would you feel about contributing the car to the military campaign? It would undoubtedly be a great help to our navy and our conquest in Europe.”

Caractacus did a double take. “Use Chitty Chitty Bang Bang for war?” he asked. “With all due respect, Commander, I’m afraid she’s just not that kind of car.”


“Think about it,” Lemmon replied with a wide grin, “We could attach weapons to her and fly her over the enemy battleships. Drop bombs on their barracks. The Germans and Russians would stand no chance against our might. You'd be a hero for it. Remembered forever by the people of England for singlehandedly winning the Great War."


“As much as I am honored serving under you, Commander, I just can’t give up Chitty,” Caractacus replied more firmly than before, “She means too much to my family. Or she did at one time, at least. That matters more to me than heroic glory, if you take my meaning.”


“I see,” Lemmon said with disappointment. "A pity that you are not willing to make this contribution." He looked away to hide a sneer before resuming a cordial tone.

“Well, my boy, you’d be well off with some shut-eye. Tomorrow, we attack the Germans on their own soil.”

“Yes, Commander,” Caractacus replied, his thoughts returning to the countryside where his family was left uncertain of whether he’d return.

"Good night, Caractacus," Lemmon said before disappearing from the deck and back down below. "Sleep well."

"And you also, Commander."

The crescent moon was now shining a light over the HMS Confection as it sailed along.

 

Lovely conversations

 

A sweet beginning and sense of rapport with faraway loved ones ... Lemmon, just speaking tactically and not morally here, what could Chitty do that biplanes cannot? You'd also need to fit her with bomb rigs, defense machine guns, and such ...

 

Lemmon isn’t the most fueled rocket on the propulsion unit

 

A fleet of U-boat submarines lurked under the Atlantic Ocean, awaiting the attack from the British navy.

The HMS Confection led the large dreadnought ships towards the naval base on the German coast.

The commander inside the lead U-boat submarine barked orders as he led his fellow navy men into attack position.

The lead ship, large shaped like an ominous curved knife, pointed a torpedo up above the sea level. In big white letters, the word Bomburst was painted on the hull.


Aboard the HMS Confection, Commander Lemmon thrashed his whip on the deck, marching along the rows of angled ramps positioned to launch. Lemmon wore a rocket-boosted propulsion unit built by Caractacus Potts..

The crewmen came marching towards the four ramps in rows, armed with rifles and ready for battle. All of them had been fitted with a propulsion unit pack strapped to their bodies.

“Very good, men,” Commander Lemmon said, “Now, once we arrive on the German shores, we will have the advantage. They will not be expecting enemy combatants who can fly. When we are met by their army, prepare to launch off the ramps into the air. Understood?”



“YES SIR!” the men chorused, pointing their rifles at the dawn in salute position.

Admiral Fleming was perched on the lookout post, gazing ahead with his small telescope.

“I see the land of the Kaiser ahead!” Fleming shouted from up above.
He blew the whistle around his neck, signaling to the commanders of the entire fleet.

“Assume your position, men!” Commander Lemmon shouted.


All of the sudden, the large dreadnought lurched upward as something struck it from below.

The men shouted as many of them were knocked off their feet. The launching ramps flew across the deck, forcing the men to duck and scatter out of the way.



Admiral Fleming was knocked straight off of his perch on the largest mast and fell screaming towards the deck. He managed to grab onto a rope and hold on for dear life as he tumbled.


The German officer aboard the U-boat Bomburst barked another order.

Another torpedo launched, this time causing the Confection to split in half while tipping over onto its side.

The navy men screamed as the deck they stood on swung sideways, causing them to fall towards the unforgiving sea and hold onto whatever piece of the crumbling ship their hands could find.

Caractacus managed to seize hold of the railing as his feet plunged into the salty ocean, soaking his pants and filling his boots. A chill came over his body as the ocean swept through his clothes and his hands clenched desperately to the rails.

The men around him were panicking in terror as they faced the prospect of a violent, watery death.

For the first time since he’d been drafted into the Great War, Caractacus felt genuinely scared. Fear gripped his heart as he held onto the metal railing, trying not to sink under the debris.

“Help us!” the men around him were shouting, “We’re going to drown!”


“Please!”
“Help!”

Caractacus didn’t speak, but he thought of his wife and children at home, as well as his old man. They would all have to bear the news of his death, and live with the pain the rest of their lives.

How horrible that Grandpa Potts would live longer than his son. How terrible that Jeremy and Jemima would face the death of their father years before they were old enough.
How awful it would be for Truly to lose the first and only man she ever loved, and live the many years ahead of her a widow.

Caractacus knew he couldn’t die. Too many people needed him.

“Never fear, brave soldiers!” Admiral Fleming said as he held on to the horizontally-leaning mast of the battleship, “Help is on the way.”

Dangling in the air above the water, Fleming pointed at several wooden life-boats rowed by soldiers of the navy. They were coming to rescue the struggling crew of the wrecked Confection.


“All aboard!” one of the rowers shouted.

As the lifeboats approached through the rocky waves, some of the men began to swim towards them, gratefully climbing in wherever there was room.

“We’re saved!”
Fleming jumped off the mast and landed in the first lifeboat that reached the wreckage and the struggling men. As soon as the men climbed into the boats, the rowers began to paddle quickly back towards the ships from which they had been dispatched, determined to escape from the German submarine ambush.

Caractacus let go of the wreckage of the battleship and removed his rocket pack to lighten his weight. The propulsion unit disappeared into the sea as Caractacus began to swim towards the lifeboats.

His body was aching, but his willpower allowed him to swim as he made his way through the salty, cold ocean.


Panting, Caractacus was treading water to keep his head above sea level as he finally reached one of the wooden boats.

He clasped the boat’s side and began to climb up into its seats, smiling in gratitude at the rower.

Commander Lemmon was sitting across from the other man, having managed to retain his whip.

“Hello, Mister Potts,” he said with a grin.

Caractacus managed to breathe in reply, “Commander...I’m glad to see you’re all right.” He gripped the boat as he managed to wriggle his body out of the water


“Thank you, my good boy,” Lemmon replied, “Now, I’ve been thinking, and it’s a shame you’re not willing to let this motorcar of yours be used by the navy.”

Caractacus frowned in confusion, then looked up at Lemmon in shock as the commander cracked his whip.

Shouting in surprise, Caractacus was forced to let go of the boat as Lemmon struck him
.
Caractacus closed his eyes as he sank below water, the lifeboat drifting out of sight.


Recovering from the stinging blow of the whip, Caractacus swam upwards and gasped for breath as his head bobbed through the water. His wavy hair was soaked and he was choking on the water he had accidentally inhaled.

“Goodbye!” Lemmon called back to him with sadistic glee, “And thank you for the flying car waiting for me at home!”

"I've got to go back for him!" the rower exclaimed, preparing to paddle backwards.

Lemmon cracked his whip again in a threatening manner.

"Keep on moving," he ordered, "Forget about him. He's more useful to me out of the way."


Caractacus was going to die, he realized. Commander Lemmon cared nothing about him or any of the others. Nothing mattered to Lemmon except his own glory.

And now, Caractacus was going to drown alone in a foreign sea, away from the ones he loved. He tried to picture the faces of Truly, Jeremy, Jemima and Grandpa as the waves began to pull him under.

And then, Caractacus saw the floating wreckage of the Confection.

He saw Goldsmith climbing the rope above the water to safety. He vaguely saw Cole and Robinson clinging to the mast, determined to stay afloat.

His faith renewed, Caractacus began to swim towards the battleship. Reaching the mast, he grabbed onto it and pulled himself up with all the strength he had.

Caractacus sputtered and gasped for air as he climbed towards Cole, Goldsmith and Robinson.

“Hello, gentlemen,” he said, “I see you’ve all been left behind as well.”


“All of them have been rescued but us,” Robinson complained, “Commander Lemmon is all too happy to leave us to the jaws of King Neptune.”

“Well,” Caractacus said, “The best we can do is hold on to the light and let it guide us.”

“We’re in the middle of the ocean on a sinking boat!” Goldsmith replied. “There’s no way we’re going to make it.”

“As long as we’re alive, we have a chance,” Caractacus declared, “And so we should all hold on to what we value the most.”


As the wreckage drifted with the current, the men struggled to remain on board.

Yet they felt encouraged by Caractacus. They’d made it this far, miraculously alive despite their dire situation.


Always hold your light, tight to you,
Keep a light and hold it true,
Whenever you find
Yourself in a bind,
Your light will see you through.

A light to guide you to another day,
Hold on to your light and you will find your way,
With your special light you’ll be safe and sound,
You’ll have everything you need to get around.

The men held onto the remains of their battleship as the waves carried them away from the fleet that had abandoned them, yet they held on because they had hope.

Always hold your light, tight to you,
Keep a light and hold it true,
Whenever you find
Yourself in a bind,
Your light will see you through.

It wasn’t long before the remains of the Confection struck land. The men looked in amazement at the sandy beach where the waves had carried them.

They were far from home in an unknown land, but they were alive, and for now, relieved.

“Land ho,” Caractacus declared.

Something dear, something clear, my light to carry me through.

The light to see us through...........

Along with Cole, Robinson and Goldsmith, Caractacus climbed down from the mast and dropped onto the sand, gratefully embracing the dry land.

Their joy faded as they looked up at the water that led out beyond what the eye could see.

"Blimey!" Cole exclaimed, "We're stranded on a desert island."

"At least we're not in the water anymore," Robinson replied.

Caractacus gazed up at the horizon. The mainland was completely invisible from this distance.

"Where are we?" Goldsmith asked.

"I don't know," Caractacus replied, "But I do know that we have homes and families to return to. We're going to get out of here, I promise you."