I was awoken at a little after 6am with a phone call to inform me that Millvina Dean, the last survivor of RMS Titanic, had died in Southampton, England. I was saddened to hear about her passing as I had visited Southampton during the UK launch tour of 209 A Story. She was unwell at the time but I am fortunate to now count among my souveniers of the tour, a signed photograph of RMS Titanic. With her passing comes the last living connection to the great ship. I have also come to appreciate that many, many fans of Titanic will be moved by her passing. She was a very nice old lady whose life had been shaped by an event that she was too young to recall. May she now rest in peace.
Thank you to all of those people who have sent me email regarding the novel and telling me how much they have been enjoying it - but I will add, at this point, I am not upset when I receive email telling me that I have been the reason for several 'late nights' as those people who are reading 209 A Story, 'fall into the novel' and 'can't put it down'! (what a compliment!)
Have a nice week everyone.
Cheers Steven
Chapter 2
Valenciennes - Northern France 1918.
And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted - "Open then the Door!
You know how little time we have to stay,
And once departed, may return no more."
The Rubaiyat by Omar Khayyám 12th Century
…and often quoted by British Troops as they went into Battle during World War I
‘The name is Edward Parfett, but you can call me, Ned,’ he offered with a thick cockney accent and a forced smile
Ned saluted.
His smile was no longer the natural boyish grin that would usually accompany an introduction to someone. Here, late afternoon in a wet and muddy field, was an old man’s mind in the body of a younger man; and who was only a few years older than the turn of the century.
The spattering of rain ceased.
The relentless sound of shelling continued in the distance, the sound of which was both pernicious and horrifying.
The Western Front, in the autumn of 1918, was little more than fields upon fields of death. Hundreds of thousands of men had become heroes; dying in the most disgusting and brutal way possible. The many thousands who remained on the front line had now witnessed the true meaning of hell on earth. To the majority, the actuality of this war numbed their sensibility to the true horror that was present.
As the two men shook hands briefly, Joseph McGuire took one step back and stroked his somewhat protruding jaw; a habit he had only recently acquired.
‘I have met you before, Ned. Almost a year ago,’ said Joseph.
His twenty-five year old face was unfamiliar now.
It was another outcome of the war. It changed the men who had survived. The once healthy faces that shone with the ideals of the British Empire were beginning to fade. Eyes were greyed and dulled, features drawn and gaunt, and once full and proud moustaches had become similar to discarded, out of season, pine needles strewn across the ground.
Ned’s eyes searched his expression momentarily for some sign by which to identify Joseph McGuire …but still nothing.
‘The Captain wishes to see you immediately, Ned,’
That one directive generated recognition.
Two pigeons flew overhead.
Second-Lieutenant Joseph McGuire was acting as secretary to Captain James Roxbrough, who was in command of the Royal Artillery 126th Brigade, 37th Division, and based at, Valenciennes, in northern France. He had been at his post since the horrendous winter of the previous year. It had been forty winters since Europe had seen such conditions.
These meteorological elements affected both sides equally.
He had indeed met him on a previous occasion. Almost twelve months previous Gunner Parfett had been awarded a military medal for service and gallantry as a dispatch rider. Ned’s abilities during his brief military career had been flexible and varied with a soldierly persona, consistent and alert.
Knowing the drill, Ned stood to attention, and saluted again.
Both men walked off in different directions.
The falling of the rain recommenced.
The audible sounds of shelling in the distance remained… still as deadly and still as horrific.
