by Carl Leckey
“Just go out of the front door turn left past the Smithy and the Post Office you will come to the pub I mentioned called the Maypole just after that you will pass the village hall.
Now that is where your friend was when he first came here along with a few more poor souls from the fighting. It was a kind of hospital during the war and for some time after. Thank goodness they are all gone now. I don’t mean that in an unkind way but they will be better off with their own families. Some of the poor souls were in a terrible state when they first came here. I used to help out there with my Mother. I remember your friend was not very well when he first arrived, poor chap. He never spoke to anyone for ages we thought he was struck dumb. But good food and kindness and our local Doctor helped most of them to get better. Mind you not all of them improved, some of them have had to go into institutions.”
The Lady pauses to either catch her breath or to recall what she had witnessed. She then continues directing me to the chapel. “You will come to a fork in the road. Don’t turn right that will take you down the hill to the river Weaver. Keep on straight and keep going you can’t miss it. The chapel is on a corner of the cross roads.”
I have an idea and put it to her. “If he goes home for lunch surely he has to pass here I might be able to catch him.” She replies doubtfully. “I don’t think so, Mrs Johnson usually picks him up in the trap about four o’clock if she is not already at the chapel with him.” As she appears to be a fund of knowledge about the movements of the villagers I take her advice. After a plough mans lunch and a pint of excellent cider I stroll to the chapel.
CHAPTER SIX
Meeting an old comrade
It appears the place is locked up when I arrive at the front door but around at a side entrance I find an unlocked door. I push it open and from the doorway I call his name. As there is no immediate response I advance hesitantly into a kind of storeroom and detect the sound of movement in the main Chapel. As I enter the meeting hall Sandy is nowhere in sight. I finally locate him on his knees brushing the space between the rear pews. Wary of startling him I await until he backs to the end of the row and stands up before making my presence known to him by a discrete cough. For a moment I am afraid he doesn’t recognise me when he turns around. At first I have a strange feeling of rejection until I see his expression change, Sandy drops the hand brush encircles me with his one good arm and gives me a welcome hug. I never thought the meeting would be this emotional. The last time I saw Sandy he was about to board the ferry where he failed to acknowledge me. From the initial greeting it is as if we had not been parted. All the comradeship I felt for him in the war is still there. Thank goodness he now looks a great deal better. Although he in no way resembles the Sandy I knew before he resumed stretcher bearing after recovering from his wounds. His hair once bushy and ginger coloured is completely snow white. He has put on some weight but still appears gaunt. Instead of being upright and sprightly his shoulders appear hunched and unexpectedly he seems shorter than I recall. Maybe this is an illusion maybe I have grown in the couple of years since we last met. Nevertheless I have found my good friend Sandy and it feels good.
We tell each other our stories since the war ended. Sandy refuses to discuss the hostilities and what happened to him after he left the dressing station and returned to the front line. It is as if his life ended when he left the dressing station and began again when he recovered at Acton Bridge. Every bad experience Sandy suffered he appears to have deliberately blanked from his memory. Fortunately this memory loss does not include me.
Sandy asks me when there is a pause in the conversation. “So how long are you staying with us? I explain. “I planned to be just here for the one night. I’ve already booked into the Station Inn. I am on a tight schedule and have to keep moving. I left my Wife in France and I really miss her. I intended to be away only a fortnight but I am already running late. Now we have made contact I will return hopefully bringing my Wife with me. And of course you are welcome to visit us in France any time you desire.” Sandy remarks. “So you are married eh that’s nice, someone from your home town is she?” How stupid I assumed Sandy knew I had married Denise I explain “Well actually Sandy you are personally responsible. I married the French girl Denise the one I met when we had that weekend at the chateau.” Sandy looks puzzled. I give him details. “Don’t you recall sending me into the garden to pick flowers and her Grand Father setting about me? Gradually as if a curtain is raised he recalls the event with a smile he adds. “Do you recall the Padre with the trots?” We both have a good laugh as the memories flood back. I give him details of my future plans while I am in England. “I am off to see Colonel Sanders tomorrow in Malvern I will just stay overnight then I’m back to rejoin my Mother in New Brighton.”
Sandy looks startled when I disclose this. “Then you haven’t heard the news about the Colonel?” His reply confuses me. “What news? I haven’t seen a paper for a day or two.” Sandy goes into the side room with me in tow he extracts a newspaper from his overcoat pocket opens it and hands it to me.
The headline reads. WAR HERO TAKES THE COWARDS WAY OUT.
With heavy heart I begin to read the article.
Colonel Sanders a decorated war hero committed suicide on Armistice Day at the site of towns proposed war memorial.
I am totally shocked when I absorb the news and find myself unable to finish reading any more. Sandy explains. “He evidently shot himself with his service revolver. The Colonel was found in full dress uniform. He is to be buried in four days time. The authorities denied him a military funeral because he committed suicide. I intended going myself maybe we can go together now you are here. Did you know he was a Roman Catholic?” I am too emotional to answer. My mind goes back to the time in the Chateau when through a half open door I saw him with a pistol when his two army comrades died in the flu epidemic. I was convinced he was about to end his life on that occasion. Sandy contemplates. “I don’t suppose they will allow him to be buried on consecrated ground either. Everyone that had the good fortune to encounter the Colonel will be heart broken by his death. Well I tell you this Scouse er Adam my old friend the Colonel is not going to meet his maker without loyal friends seeing he has a decent send off.”
When I have recovered sufficiently I reread the article. The Colonel is to be buried on Wednesday that’s the day after tomorrow at twelve o’clock. I make my mind up instantly and tell Sandy. “Right that settles it I shall leave tomorrow and be there in good time for his funeral. I want to make sure he is buried with the dignity and honour he rightfully deserves.”
Sandy suddenly explodes angrily. “I am totally opposed to violence as you know but if I could get my hands on the journalist that wrote this scurrilous rubbish heaven help him.”
Sandy laughs as he realises what he has said, he holds up his single hand. “Tell you what Adam I’ll revise that statement. I’ll grab him you can strangle the lying swine.” Any more conversation about what we will do to the reporter is curtailed as Mrs Johnson appears. She is a lovely Lady by the name of Edith I reckon she is in her late twenties. The Lady dressed in widows mourning clothes. Sandy introduces me. She invites me to stay with them at her house. Unfortunately I have to decline as I had already booked into the pub. When I inform her of this she invites me to accompany them home for tea and dinner. She takes us to her small holding in a horse drawn trap. We have a lovely time at her house Sandy proudly shows me around the orchards after we have tea while Edith prepares dinner. I am able to detect Sandy’s feelings for the Lady as he describes their life together since he recovered sufficiently to leave the village hall. As he is showing me the cider presses. He explains. “These are left over from when Edith’s Father owned the place. We don’t make cider any more. Edith doesn’t approve of strong drink she is a strict Methodist you know?” I enquire. “What are all the pears for Sandy are they for eating?”
“No, no.” He explains enthusiastically with a laugh. “They are known locally as toad backs on account
of their brown skin and black spots. I bet you didn’t know this Adam? Have you ever wondered what they used to dye our army uniforms khaki with?“ I shake my head it is not something I had reason to wonder on. He informs me. “Edith told me in the war the army couldn’t get enough of the pears. They were shipped to the mills around Manchester from the station here. It surprised me when she told me they were used to dye the army uniforms. The tan yard at the bottom of the hill uses them as well, something to do with the tanning process.”
The next place he shows me is a small outhouse equipped with a bed and a couple of pieces of furniture. He explains. “This is where the boiler attendant slept before the war. He looked after the boiler for the green houses during the night.”
We chat about this and that but all the time the conversation comes back to Edith and how she has helped him to recover. It appears the Doctors expressed the opinion they could do no more for him and recommended he be sent to an institution for long time care.
Edith refused to give up on him.
When the village hall reverted back to its pre war function she took him in and they have been together ever since.
I ask him in a Fatherly but joking manner. “Well my boy what is your intentions do you mean to marry Edith?”
Sandy blushes something I have never seen him do before as he replies. “Adam there is nothing more I would desire than to be Edith’s husband. I know she would accept me if I proposed marriage to her but I am afraid it is not to be.” As he turns away I glimpse a look of sadness on his face. “I don’t understand Sandy you evidently love her and you indicate the feeling is mutual for goodness sake why not ask her?”
He answers almost in a whisper. “Adam, Edith has suffered enough she lost her first husband in nineteen fourteen in the battle of Mons. She remarried a childhood friend in nineteen eighteen he was killed two weeks later in Ypres. How could I ask a wonderful Lady such as Edith to be burdened with a cripple like me? No! She is young and beautiful enough to find someone nearer to her own age without my handicaps. Do you know Adam I haven’t slept a full night for years unless I take the drugs the doctors prescribe? I have these terrible nightmares and the carers and my fellow patients told me I make horrendous noises during the night. Although she objects to it I have taken to sleeping in that outhouse I showed you, to give Edith some peace at night.”
I must have looked horrified when I said. “What you sleep out in the garden in a shack?”
He replies with a smile. “Don’t be upset Adam it’s my choice. It’s a comfortable little place nice and warm and surprisingly cosy.
The pipes run through it from the central heating boiler. I have a primus stove to make a brew and a privy close by. What more could an old soldier want? Remember some of the awful places we lived in during the war, compared to them this is a palace? Besides someone has to attend the fire otherwise we couldn’t grow early tomatoes and other things.”
“God damn the bloody war.” I find myself saying aloud as he finishes revealing the reason why he won’t risk asking her to marry him.
My heart goes out to my friend Sandy as he stands gazing into space as if reliving something that he has suffered during that awful time. To my horror he begins to shake, his body becomes convulsed with awful trembling. I am at a loss of how to respond I am about to approach him not knowing if he is aware of what is happening when I hear.
“Sandy. Sandy, are you all right?” Edith has followed us into the out building she rushes over and hugs him close, totally ignoring my presence. It is then I hear him sobbing deep heart rending sobs. She looks over his shoulder at me and says. “It’s alright Adam don’t be alarmed he will be alright shortly. This happens now and again something triggers it off. Leave us alone for a while will you please?”
After about ten minutes they emerge from the building walking hand in hand as if nothing unusual had occurred. At dinner we discuss the trip to Malvern to attend the Colonels funeral. Edith is evidently concerned when I reveal we will be staying over in Malvern for at least two nights. Her opportunity arose when Sandy goes outside to put the hens away and attend the boiler. She looks very uncomfortable and confides.
“I don’t think staying away for two nights is a good idea Adam. Arthur he has not been away from here since he arrived from France.”
This is the first time I have heard Sandy referred to by his real name.
Edith questions me further.
“Did Arthur mention he suffers a great deal at night?” I confide to her. “Well he did confess he makes some sounds during the night, but it won’t bother me I can assure you.
We had plenty of noise during the war. I must confess I was able to sleep through most of it, given the opportunity that is.”
“I’m sure you will cope because you are his friend but it’s the other guests I am concerned about. What if he takes another turn similar to this afternoon’s one? Could you cope?”
I feel awful when I reply. “I am sorry Edith I didn’t want to cause you a problem. You are right. I couldn’t cope then and I might not be able to in Malvern. Sandy, er, Arthur seemed quite excited to be going on the trip. To be honest I hadn’t any concrete plans when I arrived here. You see I intended going on my own. I didn’t know the Colonel was dead until Sandy er Arthur told me. Our trip was planned on the spare of the moment. I thought we would book into a hotel when we arrive at Great Malvern the Colonel lived in a village close to there. I’m sure there are plenty around there. I have read Malvern is a great place for hill walkers. I am in your hands Edith if you think Sandy is not up to it I don’t know what to tell him. Everyone that had dealings with him thought a great deal about the Colonel. We feel the need to attend his funeral, it’s hard to explain. Did you read that appalling news paper article about his suicide?”
“I did and I am ashamed of my fellow human. I do understand your needs believe me. I have lost loved ones and know how it feels,” she replies. “I suppose you intend travelling there by train?”
I reply. “Yes that is my intention I have planned to travel from a Station called Cuddington then change trains at Chester. I tried to get here by road last week but got caught in a blizzard and had to turn back.”
“Do you think it’s possible to get to Malvern and back in a day by road?” She asks.
Thoughtfully I answer. “I haven’t been there by road but I have studied the maps. I reckon from here it should take about three hours driving down the A 49 road, it looks pretty straight forward the weather has improved since I attempted the journey.”
Edith replies thoughtfully. “Yes its almost spring like today, there is an excellent fellow, a neighbour of ours he has an automobile. If he hasn’t any funerals arranged I am sure he would take us in one of his vehicles.
I will feel better if I accompany him. I don’t believe Arthur is ready for a night in a strange bed.”
What she says makes sense. If what Sandy explained to me about his night noises is true I don’t think we would be welcome in a hotel.
I am sure because of her religion she wouldn’t want him lodging in a pub or inn.
Sandy returns. Edith informs him. “I am going out for a while to visit my friend.” She adds as she dons her coat. “You men stay and have a chat, I am sure you have lots to catch up on.”
When she has gone out of the room Sandy says. “Well this is a turn up she has never left me alone in the evening since I came to live here. She must trust you as a baby sitter eh Adam?” He smiles as he says this.
After about an hour Edith returns takes her coat off and sits opposite us. She reaches over the table and takes Sandy’s hand. She says in a sincere manner. “Look my dear I know you want to attend your friend’s funeral but I am worried about you. Adam tells me you plan staying over for a couple of nights. Arthur you know why I am worried, this is what I suggest. I have made enquiries Mr Stanhope has offered to drive us there and back in one day. He has been in that locality before and he reckons it will only take about two hours to get the
re.” Sandy thinks her suggestion over then replies. “To be honest I have been worried myself since I made the decision to go. I like your idea Edith as long as Adam doesn’t mind? I will go by car with you.”
I reply. “No, no Sandy you do what is best for you. I will be going by train in the morning. I want to get there early to see what arrangements have been made. I shall be going back to New Brighton directly from there to travel south with my Mother.”
Edith is happy because Sandy and I have agreed to her plan she makes an offer. “If that is settled I will take you to Cuddington station in the trap, what time do reckon on going?”
After considering it for a moment I reply. “Hmmm If it’s no trouble will you will pick me at the pub about nine o’clock. That will give me time to have breakfast and I need to send a telegram from the post office. I have a couple of letters to write so if you don’t mind I will wish you goodnight. Thank you for a lovely meal and your hospitality. Please remember what I offered. If you are able to travel to France in the future you will be welcome as our guests. My Wife and I would be very pleased to accommodate you and show you both around.
