The Death of Hope by Andrew Wareham (inspirational books for women txt) 📕

To an extent he is right –having no land is a benefit but leads to a lack of occupation for us. I usemanagers in the City, as you know, so there was nothing for George to do in theordinary way of things. No difficulty in time of peace – London close to hand,he keeps rooms in Town and occupies himself as any young man of leisure might,sport and clubs and such. With the nation at war, he found he could not remainat home. The more so, of course, for his youngest brother, your ‘Polly’,distinguishing himself as he has done. Your much decorated presence is also somethingof an embarrassment, as you will appreciate. His second brother is in theTrenches now. He could not stay at home.”

“Which regiment has he joined?”

“The Suffolks. Our own county regiment, asis right. I believe he sailed from Dover yesterday. Six weeks at the depot learningthe ropes is normal for a young second lieutenant.”

The word was that the life expectancy ofnew lieutenants was measured in weeks. Perhaps one half died in their firstmonth of service in the Trenches. Those who survived the baptism seemed to lasta long time, or so it was hoped.

There was nothing to say.

“Have you heard from Polly, sir?”

“He is in the Mediterranean in command ofhis own destroyer, as you know. The few letters we have received suggest he isenjoying himself as captain. Ridiculous, of course – he is barely more than aschoolboy! This war has forced so many boys to become men before their time,Simon!”

“It has, sir. What will become of themwhen it is all over, I cannot imagine. We have an easier life in the Navy, thatI am sure of. Even so, we are pushed to take responsibility undreamed of even twoyears ago. In October ’13 I was a sublieutenant, a very minor specimen ofhumanity and expecting with luck to become lieutenant in ’15 or ’16. Now, I ama lieutenant commander with a half-flotilla of my own and every prospect ofstepping up in the naval world again if the war lasts another two years.”

“It will, Simon. Every rational prospectsays it could last another ten. There is nothing to stop the stalemate we cansee in the Trenches dragging on for a decade. Russia is collapsing and Germany willsoon be able to feed herself from the steppes, making the blockade a nonsense.Kitchener sits in his office and proclaims the need for more men to go out toFrance while Churchill wastes resources in Turkey. The fleet sits in idlenessin the Shetlands. I can see no hope of winning this war, and no likelihood oflosing it. Such being the case, it can never end.”

“What of America, sir?”

“Profiting greatly from us. Quite rightly,too. We desire to buy from them. They wish to sell to us. Perfectly normalbusiness. They would be fools to join in on either side. Mind you, there are rumoursthat Germany is trying to make some sort of connection with Mexico, offeringthem the lands America stole in the South West. They could use that threat toforce America to become truly neutral.”

It seemed far-fetched. The whole war wascrazy – it was possible.

“I am told that the Japanese are sending afleet to the Mediterranean, Simon. Have you heard of that?”

No word had reached Harwich if that wasso.

“Enough of gloom, Simon. Off you go withmy blessing to find Alice.”

The proposal was made in form and acceptedwith delight, elder sister and mother joining the pair after ten minutes to expresstheir joy and prise them apart.

“When can you wed, Simon?”

“I have a long leave now, will not getanother this year in the ordinary way of things. In early ’16, I might hope.”

Alice looked hopeful.

“The war should end then, Simon. Kitchener’sNew Army is to be trained and ready to go in the summer. It must end the war,all of the newspapers say so.”

“The newspapers may say that, my love.Outside of Fleet Street there is less optimism. They may be very good – the flowerof English youth, I believe – but they will still be a bare quarter of amillion against an estimated two million Germans in the trenches. The Frenchhave taken huge losses already and will not march in Flanders, we are told. TheBritish Army will not win this war without a huge number of allies.”

“What of the naval war, Simon?”

Alice’s sister, Sarah, had rarely spokenin company. She was, he thought, still grieving for her fiancé, lost in the warof movement the previous year.

“None as far as the Grand Fleet isconcerned. For us, the small ships, predominantly a defensive war. Above all,we must protect the Channel and the unending flow of troopships and rationcarriers. Until we take our war to the German-held ports, we will be holding,not advancing. We have been successful so far in keeping the German destroyersand submarines at a distance. It needs only a single night of failure for thewar to take a turn for the bad. A dozen torpedoes could cost us a division, andthat would be a disaster.”

“I have been thinking of taking upnursing, Simon. A year to learn the necessary skills… It seems that my servicesmight still be required then.”

He had nothing to say, could not encourageher if her parents were opposed. Nurses were needed and every girl with aneducation should be doing something for the country… Not Alice, however. Shewas not the practical sort, he suspected.

“When will the notice reach The Times, doyou think, ma’am?”

Better to turn the conversation to thebanal.

“My husband will be setting that in handnow, I much suspect, Simon. Is your Uncle Sturton aware of your intentions?”

“He has signified his happiness with themarriage, ma’am. We must make the necessary arrangements, I do not doubt.”

“A dinner for our acquaintance is all thatcan be convenable in wartime. No doubt the Viscount could be invited to attend.”

Simon suspected he would be a prize to beunveiled to the County, aristocracy being uncommon among their guests.

“If you can set a date, ma’am, I must bein London next week and will speak to him in person.”

Alice was dismayed.

“Oh, can you not stay for your whole leave,Simon?”

He could