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    Love and War
    Love and War
    Love and War
    Ebook127 pages1 hour

    Love and War

    By Reece Pocock

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Thirteen short stories make up this book: from the romance of 'The Angel of Tobruk' to the deadly battles of 'The Third of August', 'Staying Alive', 'Horace the Horse', to the nostalgia of 'My Grandfather the Soldier', 'Suburban Hero', 'Homecoming' and 'The Light in the Window'.


    Plus some history of the 2nd/43rd battalion in World War Two, who fought at Tobruk, El Alamein, New Guinea and Borneo. The 'Rats of Tobruk' fought, died, were wounded, and won many battles in that time.


    But, many stories are about the women who became nurses, stayed home, repaired the damage their men sustained both physically and mentally after the services were finished with them. Although, the stories are fictional, there are many historical facts of great interest to many who had loved ones who served in the war.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPublishdrive
    Release dateOct 19, 2016
    ISBN9781310207815
    Love and War
    Author

    Reece Pocock

    #Reece Pocock is a prize-winning author who writes predominantly novels, as well as short stories, screenplays, stage-plays and articles. After studying, he was awarded an Advanced Diploma of Arts (professional writing) in 2004.His fiction includes Murder on Display, The Politics of Murder, (both novels were longlisted in the Ned Kelly Award) as well as The Hooded Assassin, Evil in the City, Love and War, Refugee.Children's stories, Melissa Lane Girl Detective, and Sarah loves Ice Cream.Non-fiction — How to Achieve High Self-esteem.Reece won the City of Burnside crime short story contest, with The Girl in the Red Beret. His screenplay, The Soldiers, was highly commended in the Di Cranston award. His Play, ‘Awake to Murder’ won first prize and was read by Wildscreen in the USA.Reece is primarily a crime writer (although he has written other genres) and concentrates on the exploits of Detective Sergeant Dan Brennan and his partner Mac McLean, ex-SAS soldiers who joined the Police Force.After Army service, Reece enjoyed a business career in sales and management.He works as a finance broker and lives at Hope Valley South Australia with his wife, Marilyn.

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      Book preview

      Love and War - Reece Pocock

      Esteem

      The Angel of Tobruk

      Cairo Egypt - 1941

      Private Jeff Douglas heard a moan, and he wondered where it was coming from. The fog in his mind was slowly clearing, and he realised he had groaned. Then there was a beautiful voice; it sounded angelic; so soft and melodic.

      ‘Jeff, Jeff, are you waking up?’ The fog cleared enough for him to see the angel with a concerned look on her face. He must be dead to see an angel. ‘Jeff, Jeff, wake up. The operation went well. You were wounded at Tobruk. Wake up!’ She sounded English and had a hat partly covering her red hair. He didn’t know there were red-headed angels that wore hats. He thought they all had blonde hair. She smiled, ‘I’m nurse Davies you can call me Stephanie. The orderlies will be here shortly to take you back to the ward.’

      Jeff opened his mouth to ask her to stay, but no sound came. He was scared and thought she would protect him. He pleaded with his eyes, she hesitated and took his hand, ‘It’s all right. You’ll be all right.’ He held on tightly. Slowly she eased out of his grip and left him lying on the barouche. An orderly wheeled him back to his ward where they placed him in a bed. He went back to sleep.

      He awoke from a dream. His beautiful angel had asked God to spare him—she would look after him. If she was going to care for him―where was she? He desperately wanted to see her. Perhaps God sent angels to be nurses, and then they disappeared back to Heaven. He hoped she was still here.

      A large overhead fan turned slowly spreading heat more than cooling any of the patients and staff. He was in a ward with about twenty patients in a long room with beds set out each side with an aisle down the middle. Nurses were moving among the patients, and there was a babble of talking and laughter. He tried to sit up and felt dizzy. A nurse appeared at his bedside, ‘Hello Jeff,’ she said brightly in an Australian accent, ‘I’m Nancy; I hope you’re feeling better. The operation went well. They got the fragments out of your shoulder. There wasn’t anything in your chest. You’ll be as good as new.’

      Jeff continued to slip from sleep to wakefulness for the next two days. When he was asleep, he dreamt about the angel, and when he was awake, he thought about her; as his rationale returned he realised she wasn’t an angel but a nurse―a very pretty nurse. Nancy was changing his dressings, and he asked, ‘Nancy, where’s Stephanie Davies?’

      ‘Not you too? All the men fall in love with her. She’s got a boyfriend. He’s a bomber pilot in the Air Force. She doesn’t go out with anyone. You’ll have no chance there.’

      ‘Will they send me home?’ asked Jeff.

      ‘No way, you’ll be back at Tobruk shooting Germans before you know it,’ said Nancy.

      Tel Aviv, Syria – Dec 1941

      Jeff kept waking in the night, listening for artillery and machine guns and then worrying when he couldn’t hear them. Sometimes, his vivid dreams made him run from his tent only to realise he wasn’t in danger.

      The diggers had lived like rats in a hole for eight months, and it seemed like the whole battalion had breathed a sigh of relief as they realised they were free of the Tobruk hellhole.

      Hard training at Khasa the base outside Tel Aviv had brought Jeff back to full fitness and health. The 9th Division was issued with new uniforms, been able to bath regularly, and no longer had to deal with lice and insects making life a misery.

      Jeff’s first-night leave was to Tel Aviv. Kevin, Vic, and Steve were with him. The diggers were singing as the crowded canvas-covered truck wound along the bumpy road towards the city.

      The truck stopped in front of the English Services Club; where the music could filter into the street. Vic clicked his fingers to the beat of the band. They entered the Club, and it was pulsing as popular music blared out from a British Army band. A soldier in uniform was singing into a microphone on a raised area where a six-piece band played along with two saxophones featuring when the singer paused between verses. Drums, piano, trombone, and trumpet completed the sextet. The band members were laughing and seemed to set the happy mood of the club.

      Soldiers were dancing with nurses and the servicewomen in uniform, as others sat and drank at the bar and tables. The music and the ambient noise from the crowded club made Jeff smile and strut into the club in a happy mood. He heard occasional shouts as the dancers swung in rhythm to the band and others sung along to the music.

      ‘Jees, take a gander at that redhead,’ said Vic. Jeff slammed his drink onto the bar and threaded his way through the crowd to her table. Her face etched into his mind; even though the only time he had seen her he was coming out of a drugged daze. There were three other nurses at the table, and Stephanie was talking so didn’t notice his approach. He waited for her to finish. One of Stephanie’s companions looked up at him.

      ‘Hello Stephanie,’ he said when there was a lull in the noise. She was more beautiful than he remembered.

      ‘Hello,’ she said flashing him a smile.

      ‘Jeff, Jeff Douglas. I was in the hospital in Cairo.’

      ‘I remember. A shoulder. A bullet entered your shoulder. How is it?’

      ‘Better. I wasn’t sure you’d remember me,’ said Jeff.

      ‘Why don’t you sit down?’

      ‘I’ve got some mates.’ He indicated the three grinning Diggers watching from the bar.

      ‘What do you think?’ said Stephanie to the other nurses.

      ‘I’ve always wanted to wear one of those slouch hats,’ said one.

      After they were all seated and names exchanged, Jeff noticed how awkward the soldiers were around the girls. They’d hardly seen a woman for over a year, and he was pleased the nurses sensed how shy they were, and tried to make conversation.

      ‘I saw you after the operation,’ said Stephanie. ‘I came to the ward, but you were asleep. Nancy said you were doing well, so I left it at that.’ Jeff was sitting close to her and watching her face; he smelt her perfume and placed his hand on the table close to hers. She felt the gaze and turned away. Jeff felt he had to relax; not be so intense, he leaned back and picked up his drink.

      Jeff’s eyes sought hers; he moved closer to her so the others couldn’t hear. ‘The funny thing is I thought about you a lot. When I came around, I thought I was dead, and you were an angel.’

      Stephanie laughed. ‘I’m certainly no angel. Some of you boys say funny things when coming out of the anaesthetic.’ Stephanie picked up her drink and Jeff felt her gaze on him over the rim of her glass. She placed her drink on the table. ‘Some of them think I’m their mother. Now, do I look like a mother?’

      ‘Not like my mother,’ said Jeff. ‘Would you like to dance?’

      ‘Love to.’

      The band was playing a waltz, and Jeff held Stephanie close. His mind blocked out the sounds of the club, and he felt the girl in his arms and the music. I must not say something stupid, he thought. Jeff wanted to tell Stephanie she was beautiful but he held back not wanting to embarrass her. The band took a break, and Jeff held her hand as they walked to their seats.

      The club became noisier towards midnight; Stephanie and Jeff were talking, when a large staggering English corporal approached. He looked down on Stephanie, ‘Dance?’

      Stephanie smiled and said, ‘No thank you.’ Jeff thought the man was rude. But, the corporal was drunk, so he made allowances for his behaviour.

      The corporal muttered, then looked at Jeff. He swung a punch and Jeff felt the pain of a blow on his bad shoulder. ‘Leave our girls alone,’ the corporal’s voice rose above the din. ‘They’re too good for you colonial bastards.’

      Jeff punched the hand away from his shoulder and sprang to his feet. The corporal swung, and Jeff took the punch on his bad shoulder again and winced as pain travelled down his arm. He punched the Englishman in the stomach; then hit him flush on the jaw. The big corporal collapsed at his feet.

      The bar hushed. The Diggers looked around the club. The corporal’s companions were crossing the room; Jeff knew they were in trouble when one of them yelled, ‘Get the colonials.’

      Kevin, Steve, and Vic jumped to their feet, and with Jeff, formed a circle. The corporal’s companions rushed at them. The Diggers beat them back. Other English soldiers joined, and some of the other Australians attacked the English from the rear. The Australians were outnumbered and were driven back towards a wall of the club where the English using chairs and tables beat them to the floor. Jeff felt the pain of blows raining down on him as he tried to protect his head. There were fights all over the club as some of the other colonial nations joined the Australians.

      Jeff heard Stephanie yelling, ‘Stop it. Stop it.’ Military Police whistles joined the noise, and twelve MPs pulled the British off Jeff and his companions. They frog-marched the rioters, including the four Australians to large vans.

      Next Day, they arrived back at Khasa, their faces bruised, under guard, after spending the night in the English Military jail. They were marched before the A Company Major and charged by the MPs with disorderly conduct fined and confined to barracks.

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