Read Online Lauren's Dilemma by Margaret Tanner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Margaret Tanner
Ads: Link
is certainly the case with me.
You will have to forgive these incoherent
ravings of mine, but you seem such a compassionate young lady, and it is a
relief to be able to pour my troubles out to someone . Danny probably told you we met up
shortly after my arrival in Egypt.
He was in high spirits, burned black as a native. You know, he was laughing
when we parted company, just the way he did that night in Melbourne before we left for overseas, in
what feels like another lifetime.
I must close now, and hope this finds you well.
If you do see Helen, please give her my best wishes.
I am yours sincerely,
Blair Sinclair.”
That night,
as she retired, her sad thoughts strayed to Blair Sinclair. She would continue
writing to him, not only because Danny had suggested it and she wanted to honor
his memory by doing as he’d asked, not only because Blair was someone who
remembered Danny as a proud and laughing soldier like she did, but because she
wanted to reach out to his loneliness.
* * *
A few weeks
later, another letter arrived from the Captain.
Dear Laurie,
I wish I did not have to write to you with such
sad tidings, but by now you will have heard that Danny
has been killed in action on Gallipoli. I was sorry to hear of his death, and
unfortunately, I have no details to give you.
I do not know when this letter will reach you,
as I am giving it to a Staff Officer to mail for me. We are getting ready to
move out any time now. Casualties have been so high, Command have asked for
volunteers from the Light Horse to go as infantry men, so we are exchanging our
gaiters and spurs for cloth puttees and guns.
My kindest regards, and condolences, Blair
Sinclair
Every
fortnight she wrote to the Captain, newsy letters that
she hoped might cheer him up. She hoped he did not read between the lines,
prayed that her heartache and bitterness were not transposed into print.
She had
changed now. Her father and all their friends said so. Her impetuous, bubbling
happiness was gone, snatched away in one swift, cruel blow, by the words Killed
in Action. They were burned like a brand into her soul. No wonder she didn’t
laugh any more. She doubted whether she would ever be happy again.
She wasn’t
the only person to have lost someone dear. Hardly a household in the country
escaped the grim tidings conveyed in the casualty lists, and a visit from the
local clergy had turned into a thing of dread.
She scoured
the newspapers each day, hoping for a miracle. Perhaps there had been a mistake
and Danny wasn’t dead, only wounded, or a prisoner of war.
One August morning, a headline caught her eye.
On the seventh of August 1915, un-mounted men from the Australian Light Horse
had charged across a narrow ridge on the Gallipoli peninsula at a place called
the Nek. They suffered heavy casualties, and she worried about Blair.
* * *
A few days
later, his name appeared on the casualty lists as being wounded in action.
Would Helen now regret having deserted him? Probably not. She was too selfish to think of anyone but herself. Laurie
waited a few days before writing to Uncle Richard who, as it transpired, knew
nothing about Blair's wounds, either.
Was he
badly wounded? She felt wretched and helpless? There would be no dashing young men left soon, only widows and girls
like herself to mourn their fallen heroes, to grieve for the broken bodies and
ruined lives of the shattered soldiers who did return home.
She threw
herself into the war effort now, volunteering at the Red Cross to help pack
parcels for the troops. Most of them contained tobacco, cigarettes, sweets, as
well as needles, thread, safety pins and other articles to make life a little
easier in the trenches.
A letter
from Gallipoli, dated June 1915, had been written before Blair got wounded.
Dear Laurie,
I have received five letters so far. It is good
of you to bother writing, and I am grateful. If you should see Helen, I hope
you will give her my
You will have to forgive these incoherent
ravings of mine, but you seem such a compassionate young lady, and it is a
relief to be able to pour my troubles out to someone . Danny probably told you we met up
shortly after my arrival in Egypt.
He was in high spirits, burned black as a native. You know, he was laughing
when we parted company, just the way he did that night in Melbourne before we left for overseas, in
what feels like another lifetime.
I must close now, and hope this finds you well.
If you do see Helen, please give her my best wishes.
I am yours sincerely,
Blair Sinclair.”
That night,
as she retired, her sad thoughts strayed to Blair Sinclair. She would continue
writing to him, not only because Danny had suggested it and she wanted to honor
his memory by doing as he’d asked, not only because Blair was someone who
remembered Danny as a proud and laughing soldier like she did, but because she
wanted to reach out to his loneliness.
* * *
A few weeks
later, another letter arrived from the Captain.
Dear Laurie,
I wish I did not have to write to you with such
sad tidings, but by now you will have heard that Danny
has been killed in action on Gallipoli. I was sorry to hear of his death, and
unfortunately, I have no details to give you.
I do not know when this letter will reach you,
as I am giving it to a Staff Officer to mail for me. We are getting ready to
move out any time now. Casualties have been so high, Command have asked for
volunteers from the Light Horse to go as infantry men, so we are exchanging our
gaiters and spurs for cloth puttees and guns.
My kindest regards, and condolences, Blair
Sinclair
Every
fortnight she wrote to the Captain, newsy letters that
she hoped might cheer him up. She hoped he did not read between the lines,
prayed that her heartache and bitterness were not transposed into print.
She had
changed now. Her father and all their friends said so. Her impetuous, bubbling
happiness was gone, snatched away in one swift, cruel blow, by the words Killed
in Action. They were burned like a brand into her soul. No wonder she didn’t
laugh any more. She doubted whether she would ever be happy again.
She wasn’t
the only person to have lost someone dear. Hardly a household in the country
escaped the grim tidings conveyed in the casualty lists, and a visit from the
local clergy had turned into a thing of dread.
She scoured
the newspapers each day, hoping for a miracle. Perhaps there had been a mistake
and Danny wasn’t dead, only wounded, or a prisoner of war.
One August morning, a headline caught her eye.
On the seventh of August 1915, un-mounted men from the Australian Light Horse
had charged across a narrow ridge on the Gallipoli peninsula at a place called
the Nek. They suffered heavy casualties, and she worried about Blair.
* * *
A few days
later, his name appeared on the casualty lists as being wounded in action.
Would Helen now regret having deserted him? Probably not. She was too selfish to think of anyone but herself. Laurie
waited a few days before writing to Uncle Richard who, as it transpired, knew
nothing about Blair's wounds, either.
Was he
badly wounded? She felt wretched and helpless? There would be no dashing young men left soon, only widows and girls
like herself to mourn their fallen heroes, to grieve for the broken bodies and
ruined lives of the shattered soldiers who did return home.
She threw
herself into the war effort now, volunteering at the Red Cross to help pack
parcels for the troops. Most of them contained tobacco, cigarettes, sweets, as
well as needles, thread, safety pins and other articles to make life a little
easier in the trenches.
A letter
from Gallipoli, dated June 1915, had been written before Blair got wounded.
Dear Laurie,
I have received five letters so far. It is good
of you to bother writing, and I am grateful. If you should see Helen, I hope
you will give her my
Similar Books
