5 ★s
This is a deeply moving story with a very serious subject at heart - the appalling treatment by the British officer classes of soldiers who suffered shell shock in World War 1. The hero of this book, Stephen Conway, is typical of the bright young Australian men who raced to enlist at the outbreak of WW1 in the expectation of adventure and demonstrating loyalty to the mother country. He takes part in the Gallipoli campaign, facing terrible deprivation and anguish, with the loss of so many mates tearing at his sanity. Following the evacuation of the Dardanelles, he ends up fighting on the Western Front in France. There he endures many more years of appalling living conditions, brutal, relentless fighting and the bloody deaths of colleagues. His mental health deteriorates to the point where he simply cannot go on further.
The story switches to present day Australia, where Stephen’s grandson Patrick is getting ready to travel to the UK to pitch a film script to the BBC. Following the recent discovery of information about Stephen in the possession of Richard, Stephen’s son, Patrick takes a side trip to Villers Bretonneux to see if any information about his grandfather’s resting place can be determined. It seems that Stephen vanished from the military records without trace in 1918, shortly before the armistice. His wife Jane received letters from the battlefields which advised of his death, but which did not supply a date nor a burial location.
The story switches often from Stephen's first person account of his life at the front lines, written in his precious journal, to Patrick's story, couched in the third person in the present day. Yeldham's prose is a little plain, and lacks a lyrical quality, but he tells this story very directly and in a way that kept my attention riveted to the pages. Like Patrick, I was desperate to find out what happened to the good-natured, talented and loving husband, son and brother, Stephen Conway.
While touring the battlefields, Patrick meets Claire, an English woman on holidays, at the Menin Gate. They strike up a close friendship and promise to keep in touch after going their separate ways. Patrick travels to London, where he is given the run-around by the BBC bureaucrats. In frustration he occupies his time by searching for further information about his ancestor, enlisting Claire’s help and also her affections along the way. Their inquiries take them on a search for Miss Georgina Rickson, who sent Stephen’s diary to Richard Conway in the 1960s. If she is still alive, she may be able to tell them if Stephen survived the war, and what happened to him afterwards.
Patrick’s investigations lead him to unearth some seriously unsavoury aspects of the underbelly of war. His grandfather’s time at Netley psychiatric hospital reveals how maligned and mistreated were the victims of shell shock. It then leads to an examination of the horrific practice of executing soldiers who are adjudged to be cowards, because of their mental anguish. I found this section of the book quite distressing to read. The arrogance and insensitivity of the British high command, from the likes of Kitchener, Winston Churchill and the generals, right down to the colonels and majors in command of troops was truly shocking to read about. All of these men, lauded as war heroes by the jingoist media of the day, have the blood of thousands and thousands of innocent, decent young men and women on their hands. Terrible…may their bastard souls rot in Hell for ever.
As their personal relationship intensifies, Patrick and Claire work diligently to track down Georgina Rickson, and ultimately, after many set-backs they take possession of a journal which explains once and for all what happened to Stephen. It is a bitter-sweet story, no doubt typical of many of the sad personal outcomes of that terrible conflict known as World War 1.
We now know about post-traumatic stress disorder, and treat sufferers with the dignity they deserve. I think Australians nowadays have a healthy scepticism about the incompetence of the British high command, which needlessly sent so many bright young men to a bloody death. Yeldham's book is not a gem of exquisite prose, but it is a very good account of a murky aspect of war, something that was swept under the carpet for decades. I've given it 5 stars because it exposes and examines an aspect of military history, in particular ANZAC history, that is not well known. Everything I have read written by Yeldham has been well-written, thoroughly researched and ultimately very satisfying. I commend him to Australian readers.