When We Were Young & Brave

by Hazel Gaynor

  For decades I’ve fought against Weihsien, blocking it out, turning away, a part of my past that I refused to rake over. Only now do I understand that it is also my present, and my future. Weihsien is part of the young girl I was, and the woman I’ve become. Those years took so much from all of us, but our teachers gave us everything we needed to carry on: an education, a family, a home, a future, hope.

  It seems fitting to sing “Taps.” One by one, the others join in, our voices linked in perfect harmony, soaring back across the miles and the years to the little meeting room we’d called our own, and where lost and frightened little girls had learned how to become strong and brave young women.

  “Day is done / Gone the sun, / From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky! / All is well. Safely rest, / God is nigh.”

  We lower our voices as the song reaches its gentle end and we hold the final note, just as we always did.

  I close my eyes and squeeze Miss Kent’s hand.

  “Goodnight, Brown Owl.”

  The silence that follows breaks my heart, and yet I hear her, as clearly as if she were standing beside my bed in the dormitory at Chefoo School, the moonlight casting patterns against the floor, the smell of peach blossom settling over us like silk. Mouse is already asleep in the bed to my left, Sprout is fidgeting beneath her covers in the bed to my right, and Miss Kent steps from the room, turns out the light, and whispers into the dark.

  “Goodnight, Brownies.”

  Epilogue

  Nancy

  December 1975

  It is only now, many years later, when stitched back together with the threads of hindsight, that I can try to make some sense of what happened all those years ago in China. I’m still trying to understand how it happened to me; to a group of innocent schoolchildren and their teachers. Perhaps I never will.

  What I do know, however, is that when you spend enough time somewhere, it becomes your home, and the people you share it with become your family. There were times—awful though it was—when it was enough; when we simply forgot that any other life was possible. Weihsien was our present and our future until that glorious summer day when it became our past, something awful and fascinating that had happened to us once upon a time.

  And yet the further away from it I go, the more I understand that it isn’t over at all. In each retelling of our story, I remember something new: a shared moment of despair and joy, unexpected kindness and unfathomable cruelty, the faces of enemies and friends. The war will always be there, even as I listen to Larry pottering about in the kitchen, making tea and toast. I savor the simplicity of such unremarkable moments, moments I once thought I would never know, and within which I feel so very safe and loved.

  Now that we have found each other again, Mouse plans to visit once a month for lunch at Browns and, despite my better judgment, she has also encouraged me to start a local company of Brownie Guides. I now find myself a rather frazzled Brown Owl in charge of a boisterous group of girls. They give me a thumping headache, and the most enormous sense of joy.

  I kept my promise to Sprout and finally visited New England in the fall. We stayed with her sister, Connie, and her husband and family. We ate shrimp and lobster rolls on the boardwalk. The trees really did look as though they were on fire.

  Life is full, but I find time, once a week, to be alone; to reflect and remember. I especially enjoy long walks beside the Cherwell where, if I stay very still, I sometimes see a flash of iridescent blue and orange dart across the river, and I smile; so grateful for my freedom, and for those—loved, living, and lost—who taught me how to fly.

  Mouse’s finished book arrived two weeks before Christmas, along with the first of the season’s snow. An end to our story, or a beginning? Perhaps it is a little of both.

  Acknowledgments

  It’s hard to believe that I’m writing my acknowledgments for my eighth novel. Eight! How lucky am I to do this job I love so much, and to still be doing it eight books in? The first thank you must, therefore, go to you, my readers. So many of you have followed me from the beginning, and are now my first eager readers of a new book. I appreciate everything you do to support me, and all writers, when you read, listen to, and tell your friends and family about our words.

  Of course, I couldn’t do any of this without the help, encouragement, and patience of an enormous team of people, so my biggest thanks to the following: my agent, Michelle Brower (who gave me the idea for this book), and everyone at Aevitas Creative Management; everyone at William Morrow, Harper Fiction, HarperCollins Ireland, and the HarperCollins teams around the world, especially my incredibly wise and brilliant editorial teams, Lucia Macro and Asante Simons, and Lynne Drew and Sophie Burks, and my publishers, Liate Stehlik, Kate Elton, and Kimberly Young; to my dear friends Catherine Ryan Howard, Carmel Harrington, and Heather Webb, who keep me sane and frequently distract me with cocktails; to my non-writing friends Ciara, Tanya, and Angela, who kindly pretend to understand what on earth I’m going on about and always cheer me on; to the passionate booksellers and librarians who give my words a place on their shelves; to the reviewers, book clubbers, and book bloggers who not only read my books, but then cleverly craft their own miniature stories about them, or host brilliantly themed events to discuss them (over wine, I hope!); and to my family—my sister, Helen, who keeps my feet firmly on the ground; Fran and Joe, who accost unsuspecting holidaymakers and tell them to buy my books; and, of course, Damien, Max, and Sam, who all know more about twentieth-century history than they probably should, and who give me the space to be Hazel the writer as well as Mrs. Gaynor and Muuuuuuuuuum! Thank you, Sam, for giving Nurse Eve her nickname, Prune. And finally, to baby Imogene, who arrived while this book was being written. Thank you for letting me borrow your mom.

  I’m raising a gin and tonic to you all. Let’s do it again soon! x

  P. S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .*

  About the Author

  * * *

  Meet Hazel Gaynor

  About the Book

  * * *

  Behind the Book

  A Brief History of the Girl Guides

  Further Reading

  Reading Group Questions

  About the Author

  Meet Hazel Gaynor

  HAZEL GAYNOR is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of A Memory of Violets and The Girl Who Came Home, for which she received the 2015 Romantic Novelists’ Association Historical Romantic Novel of the Year award. Her third novel, The Girl from The Savoy, was an Irish Times and Globe and Mail bestseller, and was shortlisted for the Irish Book Awards Popular Fiction Book of the Year. In 2017, she published The Cottingley Secret and Last Christmas in Paris (cowritten with Heather Webb). Both novels hit bestseller lists, and Last Christmas in Paris won the 2018 Women’s Fiction Writers Association Star Award. Hazel’s most recent novel, The Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughter, was an Irish Times and USA Today bestseller, and was shortlisted for the 2019 Historical Writers’ Association Gold Crown Award. Meet Me in Monaco (cowritten with Heather Webb) was shortlisted for the 2020 Romantic Novelists’ Association Historical Romantic Novel of the Year award. Hazel was selected by Library Journal as one of Ten Big Breakout Authors for 2015. Her work has been translated into fourteen languages and is published in sixteen countries to date. Hazel lives in Ireland with her husband and two children.

  Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.

  About the Book

  Behind the Book

  When my agent first introduced me to the remarkable events surrounding a group of schoolchildren and their teachers, taken to a Japanese internment camp in China in World War II, I knew instantly that I wanted to know more. The NPR podcast she directed me to started out as an amusing story about waylaid Girl Scout cookies, but quickly developed into an incredible story about a school caught up in the war following the events of Pearl Harbor. I was fascinated. The story also stirred fond memories of my years as a Brownie Guide, and of Sunday evenings
with my mum, when we watched a BBC drama called Tenko, about a group of British, Dutch, and Australian women taken to a Japanese POW camp in Singapore. The cogs began to turn, and, as has been the case with each of my books, I knew this was a story I wanted to write.

  Writing about war inevitably comes with very difficult stories of human suffering and grief. It is impossible for anyone other than those who lived through those years to truly know what the experience was like, and I approached my interpretation of these events with the greatest respect and care. Many of those interned at Weihsien have bravely shared accounts of their experience on the website weihsien-paintings.org, without which we would know very little about this part of the war. My characters are drawn from accounts of internment I discovered during my research and, of course, from my imagination, and while none of the actual children or teachers from Chefoo School were used in my book, I am very grateful to those men and women whose stories I read. The Chefoo School archives, held at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London, were also an invaluable source of information.

  In writing the book, I kept picturing my own children faced with the same circumstances: What would they have done? How would they have coped? How would I have felt as a parent separated from my child? What especially struck me during my research was how many of the children recalled parts of their experience with a sense of fondness. That, despite the terrible circumstances they were faced with, those who led, cared for, and inspired the children managed to create a sense of safety and unity among their group. But there were also more harrowing accounts from children whose lives were deeply affected by the experience, particularly of being separated from their parents for so long. They talked about how they had struggled, in adult life, to form lasting relationships, and how they could never forget the sense of abandonment. Physical complications caused by poor nutrition during those years also affected many of them in later life.

  The words of those who so bravely and stoically endured the privations and suffering at Weihsien, and those writers who have documented stories of other children caught up in the war in the Pacific, offer a vital record of this period of history. Although, as adults, the children wrote widely about their experiences, I found comparatively few accounts from the teachers themselves. Clearly, they would have been more alert to the inherent dangers, and seen things the children were protected from. I imagine there was far more to the adult experience of internment that they felt unable to talk about, or which they preferred to remain locked behind Weihsien’s high walls. It is within these gaps in the historical record that I have drawn on my imagination, and on my own life experience. No matter the time or the distance from an historical event, the universal themes of love, grief, hope, friendship, regret, and resilience are what connect As a daughter who lost her mother, as a sister, as a friend, as an ex–Brownie Guide (a Pixie, no less, although sadly never a Sixer—I gave that accolade to Nancy!), and as a mother, there are many aspects of both Elspeth’s and Nancy’s stories that I understand inherently.

  What I’ve learned in researching and writing historical novels over the past eight years is that hope and kindness are always present during times of uncertainty and hardship, and that incredible stories of bravery and selflessness sit alongside those of pain and loss. It is impossible to write about one, without the other. The Chefoo teachers were so incredibly innovative and resourceful in keeping the children’s spirits up. Their determination to keep the children safe, healthy, and well educated is, quite simply, astonishing. I hope to have captured their resilience, courage, and bravery in Elspeth, Minnie, and my fictional cast of teachers, who were also inspired by the teachers I encountered during my school years.

  As we commemorate key anniversaries of World War II—Dunkirk, the liberation of Auschwitz, VE day, the Battle of Britain, the liberation of Weihsien, and Japan’s surrender—the memories and experiences of those involved are being shared with a new generation. These events were on such an enormous scale and magnitude, involving so many people around the world, that we are still trying to understand them. Incredible stories continue to emerge as forgotten letters, documents, and mementos are discovered in dusty attics, and as those who were there feel an urgency to tell their story before it is too late. I hope, in some small way, that by writing this particular story of World War II, and by following in the footsteps of those remarkable girls and boys, women and men, who lived these years, that their experiences will become more widely known and their story will live on. We owe them all an enormous debt of gratitude.

  That part of this story involved a group of Brownie and Girl Guides added an extra layer of intrigue and nostalgia for me. Brownie Guides was a very significant part of my life as a young girl growing up in a small Yorkshire village. I remember, so vividly, putting on my uniform every Thursday for our meetings in the school hall. I remember working hard for my badges (I peeled an enormous number of potatoes for my neighbor for my House Orderly badge!), and always wanting to Lend a Hand and do good deeds. I remember the songs, especially “Brownie Bells” and “Taps.” I remember the women—Brown Owl and Snowy Owl—who were our leaders, and from whom parts of Elspeth and Minnie are drawn. I also remember envying my older sister’s Girl Guide uniform. While I was writing this book, I found a copy of the 1974 edition of The Brownie Guide Handbook on eBay. It is the same handbook I had as a young Brownie and every page is familiar to me, which just shows how often I must have read it. I’ve written more about the history of Brownies and Guides in a separate section of this book. I hope you enjoy it, and that it sparks the same fond nostalgia for many of you ex-Brownies, -Guides, and -Scouts. Finally, I would like to mention my grandma, who celebrated her one hundredth birthday while I was finishing this book. She received her letter from the queen, and quietly celebrated with family. For a while, it was a milestone we didn’t think she would reach (we should have known better—she is made of tough Yorkshire stuff!), and when she did, it made me stop and think. Born just after the Great War, she grew up to watch her youngest brother and husband head off to fight in World War II, leaving her at home with her two young sons, including my dad. Her brother, Jack, never returned. He was reported as Missing in Action in October 1942. The anguished letters my great-grandmother continued to write to her dear son are utterly heartbreaking. Reading them gave me a very real sense of the desperation and agony felt by those separated during the war. Our grandparents and great-grandparents are our touchstone to a past that might sometimes feel too distant to be relevant to us and to our lives today. And yet, the older I get, and the more I learn about the world wars, they feel more important and relevant than ever. I hope we will keep discovering, writing, reading, and sharing these stories. They are part of all our pasts, and we must never forget them.

  A final note on the text. Romanization is used throughout for Chinese place names and character names consistent with Wade-Giles.

  A Brief History of the Girl Guides

  “Remember, it is not what you have, but what you give that brings happiness.”

  —Olave Baden-Powell

  It was over a century ago, in 1909, when a group of girls first appeared at one of Lord Robert Baden-Powell’s Boy Scout rallies at Crystal Palace in the UK, and asked to join as Girl Scouts. Six thousand girls were already registered with the Boy Scouts and practicing their own version of scouting, but they wanted a movement of their own, comparable to the boys’.

  Agnes Baden-Powell, Robert’s sister, strongly believed that girls should benefit from something similar, that “girls must be partners and comrades, rather than dolls.” A pamphlet was written, titled Baden-Powell Girl Guides—a Suggestion for Character Training for Girls, which set out instructions on how Girl Guides would work and a list of the efficiency badges girls could earn. The six thousand girls already registered as temporary Scouts became known as Girl Guides, and a year later, the Girl Guide Association was officially established in the UK under Agnes’s leadership. The handbook Scouting for Boys
was adapted for girls in a book called How Girls Can Help to Build Up the Empire, and was published in 1912.

  Baden-Powell’s movement encouraged spiritual, moral, physical, mental, social, intellectual, and emotional development. All these aspects were part of the principles of the guiding movement, and key to the Original Promise and Law.

  ORIGINAL PROMISE

  On my honor, I promise that I will do my best:

  To do my duty to God and the King (Or God and my country);

  To help other people at all times;

  To obey the Guide Law

  ORIGINAL LAW

  A Guide’s honor is to be trusted.

  A Guide is loyal.

  A Guide’s duty is to be useful and to help others.

  A Guide is a friend to all and a sister to every other Guide.

  A Guide is courteous.

  A Guide is a friend to animals.

  A Guide obeys orders.

  A Guide smiles and sings under all difficulties.

  A Guide is thrifty.

  A Guide is pure in thought, in word, and in deed.

  Groups of Girl Guides were established in Australia, Canada, Denmark, Finland, New Zealand, and South Africa, and by 1912 there were also groups in Ireland, Portugal, and Norway. Juliette “Daisy” Gordon Low founded Girl Scouting in the USA that same year after assembling eighteen girls for a local Girl Scout meeting in Georgia. Like the Baden-Powells, Low believed that girls should be given the same opportunity as boys to develop physically, mentally, and spiritually. In 1915, a charter was granted to the Girl Guides Association. The movement continued to grow, and today there are Girl Guide or Girl Scouts Associations in 150 countries.