THE GREAT WAR
Chapter One
May 14, 1917
Her breath was caught in her
throat and she felt as though she could no longer breathe. The world around her
seemed to slip away, along with her consciousness.
Her chest tightened and her body
weakened.
All because of a letter. One
letter which would change her life forever.
A letter which would rip them
apart.
A letter of conscription.
America had entered the war on
the sixth of April, 1917. Up to that date, America had tried to keep out of
World War One–though she had traded with nations involved in the war–but
unrestricted submarine warfare, introduced by the Germans on January 9, 1917,
was the first issue that caused Woodrow Wilson to ask Congress to declare war
on Germany on April second. Four days later, America joined World War One on
the side of the Allies.
The war in Europe had been raging
since 1914. She had toured Europe in late 1913 with her husband on their
honeymoon and had returned just before the war had been declared.
The horror of the war had kept
her awake for weeks, not knowing whether her husband would be drafted and now,
here she was, with the letter in her hand.
Rose Elizabeth Dawson was just
twenty-two years old. She had met her husband, Jack Dawson, on board the
Titanic almost five years before. She had defied her family and society to be
with him and she had never regretted her decision. Therefore, her family and
ex-fiancé believed her to be dead.
They had married in New York in
September of 1912, just a small but beautiful ceremony in Central Park. They
had worked for many months to be able to afford the marriage, but once they
married, all of the hard work was worth it.
They continued to live in New
York. Rose was a theater actress, starring in many plays a year. The money
happened to be good and she was considered one of the most talented actresses
at the Electric Theater.
Jack was an artist there. He drew
the posters and did the promotional side of things at the theater. It was
convenient for them both. Work was just a few blocks away from their
two-bedroom apartment.
Life had been good for the
couple. They had married young, but never regretted a thing. Their love for
each other was stronger than most married couples twice their age.
It was only now that things
started to boil over.
Jack was just twenty-five. He had
a long life ahead of him. But now he had been conscripted into the war in
Europe. The worst part was that he would actually be fighting on the front
line, where all of the deaths were.
He himself had read the horror
stories in the newspapers, of the number of deaths and casualties in France
alone.
The Battle of the Somme held the
record for most number of deaths in a war. Held a record? As if it was some
sort of contest of who killed the most. These were real people who were dying,
who were in pain. Not just a figure on a piece of paper, like many people
seemed to forget.
General Haig had announced that
morale in the trenches was high. How could that be? When many people were
losing their families and friends?
His Rose had wept long hours once
she had read the letter. He did everything he could to comfort her and reassure
her, but he himself was just as scared of what the war held for him.
He had reassured her time after
time that he would return to her. He reminded her that he was a survivor and
that nothing on this earth would come between them. But he himself was having
doubts.
There were men out there younger
than him, already fathers, who had been lost in the damned war. Why would God
spare him? Just to return to his wife?
The telegram had arrived that
morning. A young man stood outside the apartment door, and in his hand, he had
held the letter.
“Telegram for Jack Dawson.” His
young voice had cracked and Rose had found this amusing.
“He isn’t here right now.”
“Are you his wife?”
“Yes.”
With that, the boy had handed her
the letter before hurrying away on his bicycle.
Rose had frowned and found the
whole event odd, the way the boy scurried away, not even hinting for a tip.
Rose had set the letter on the counter,
fighting the urge to open it herself, and carried on running through her lines
for the play she was set to star in soon.
Jack had returned from work in a
rather good mood and had found the telegram on the counter addressed to him. He
had frowned. He rarely received mail.
As he sank into a chair and read
it, his face had paled.
The US Army wanted him to join
the war, which had already torn the world apart. How could he be separated from
his Rose, even for a short time? When they had married, they had vowed to never
be separated again, and now, here he was, about to be taken away from her
again.
There wasn’t anything either of
them could do about the notice. The law required he go to war. If not, he could
end up in prison.
Rose’s reaction to the notice had
been worse than this. She had let the letter slip from her delicate fingers and
simply crumpled in his arms.
“I wish I could go with you,”
Rose sniffed when she calmed down.
“No, you don’t. You don’t want to
see war. I don’t want you to see the war. Reading about it is bad enough.”
“I don’t want to witness the
battle. Just be with you, Jack.”
“I know.”
“Maybe they will take me as a
nurse?” Rose offered. Anything to keep her with Jack.
“I don’t want you anywhere near
the war, Rose.”
With that, Rose had simply nodded
before sobbing once again in her husband’s arms. Jack would do anything he
could to protect her, and he knew she meant well by suggesting she join the
war, but he would never sleep, knowing Rose wasn’t safe. At least if she was
here, she would be safe.
Jack left for the basic training
a week later. In October, Jack said his good-byes to Rose and then left for
Europe. Jack was uneasy about the crossing. He’d heard about the U-Boats
sinking ships frequently.
The journey to Europe took ten
days, and they arrived in England safely, with no battles. Jack crossed the
English Channel and dreaded the time when he would reach France.
Once he knew of his location, he
began to write to Rose, sometimes daily.
Anything to take his mind off
where he was. He pictured his Rose alone and cried himself to sleep most
nights.
The war would be cold, long, and
lonely.
November 18, 1917
My dear Rose,
I have only been here for two
weeks and it already seems an eternity since I saw your beautiful face.
We may be apart geographically,
but you’re always here in my heart. Things haven’t been so bad so far. But the
situation here is something I hope you never see.
The beautiful French
countryside has been butchered by bombs and explosives. I have made friends
with a French soldier, Thierry. He, too, was drafted away from him wife and two
daughters. He talks of them endlessly and has shown me pictures.
I keep a picture of you in my
pack, Rose. Every time I feel afraid and alone, I take it out, see your smiling
face, and I’m reminded of what I will be returning to.
We’ve been told we could be
home for the New Year. Imagine that, huh, Rosie? Home in time to ring in 1918
together, and then we can begin to try for a baby again.
This is all I can write for
now. I will write again soon. Trust me.
Love always,
Jack
December 1, 1917
Dear Jack,
I do hope you are here for the
New Year, Jack. In just the short space of time we’ve been apart, I’ve felt
nothing but loneliness.
Work isn’t the same without you.
Everyone seems to ask of you as if you had died.
I have only starred in one
play since you left. The crying I do for you seems to exhaust me physically and
mentally. I know I shouldn’t be like this, darling, but just thinking of you
alone out there is enough to make me want to pack up here and join you.
I wish to know no details of
the war, Jack. It is a waste of writing. I just want to know how you are.
I am glad you have a friend.
How is he? Tell him I send my love and that he and his family are in my
prayers, just as you are, Jack, every night.
I pray for the war to end, for
you to return to me, and for the soldiers who are killed as we speak.
It is almost too much for
anyone to take in, Jack.
I also have a picture of you
and I on our wedding day. I take it wherever I go and I sleep with it
underneath my pillow.
I have taken to sleeping on
your side of the bed. Anything to be closer to you.
I can still smell your scent
on the covers and your warm arms around me on the cold nights.
Keep yourself safe, my
darling. Not just for me, but for yourself.
Please write soon. I love to
hear from you.
I love you,
Your Rose
December 21, 1917
My dearest Rose,
I want to take this chance now
to wish you a very Merry Christmas. I would love to be there, Rosie. To help you
with the decorations and such. I bet the place looks beautiful.
Please, my love, don’t worry
too much. I may not be home for the New Year, but I will return. That is a
promise.
Carry on as normal. Don’t
think of me too much. Please, for me, stop crying. I never could bear to see
you cry, especially over me or this damned war.
Follow your dreams, Rose.
Don’t stop your work, which I know you love so damned much. You are so
talented.
When I see you on that stage,
I feel so much admiration for you, my Rose. I still feel it now, sitting here
alone in my trench. The other guys have gone to play cards with some of the
other soldiers. I have made friends with another few men. They’re good guys.
Most of them have families or a wife. One guy, Matthew’s, fiancée gave birth to
twins just three days before he was conscripted. He has done nothing but write
to his girl since he came here.
Thierry is as well as he can
be, considering where we are. He thanks you for your kind wishes.
Tell everyone at the theater
that I will return safely and give them my best wishes for Christmas and the
New Year.
I know it will be hard. This
is our first Christmas apart. But stay strong, my darling.
I will be home before you know
it.
Love always,
Jack
January 9, 1918
Dearest Jack,
I didn’t celebrate Christmas.
I didn’t even bother with the trimmings. I thought to not bother with you not
been here. I cooked myself a lonely dinner and ate it by the fire whilst
watching the snow fall outside the window and crying myself to sleep that
night.
It has been just two months
and it feels like forever.
Things seem to be getting
worse over there, from what I have read in the papers. I know I said I wanted
to know nothing of the war, but the newspapers seem to report more and more
casualties each day.
I rang in the New Year with
some work friends. Abigail, Tom, Richie, and such. We all had a few glasses of
wine before dancing into the night and kicking up our heels.
I miss you, though, darling. I
felt guilty almost immediately afterwards for enjoying myself when so many men
are out there fighting for our country.
I haven’t felt well since
Christmas. Maybe it was the fact that I was alone. I have planned a visit to
the doctor’s for next week. I do hope it’s nothing serious.
Happy New Year, my darling.
May you soon return to me and see the rest of the year together.
I have some news from Timmy
and Jo. They’re to become parents in September. Jo has found out she is just
over a month pregnant. I was wild with excitement, but I also felt a little
sad. I want that to happen to me. I want to carry your child, Jack.
I want you to be home. I want
a lot of things.
Stay safe.
Love always,
Your wife,
Rose
February 1, 1918
My dear Rose,
Forgive me for not writing
sooner. The conditions here are worsening, but enough of that.
Please congratulate Timmy and
Jo. I cannot even begin to express how happy I am for them.
I want a baby, too, Rose. I
want to be a father to your baby. I want to raise it with you. Hell, we’ll have
a whole bunch of babies.
That is one of the only thoughts
keeping me going. To know that when I return, I will be able to make a baby
with you.
It is almost six years since
we met, Rose. Six long years. I still love you, now more than ever. I hope you
know that. I gaze at the beautiful stars here each night and yet none of them
will ever compare with your beauty.
Please let me know how the
doctor visit went. I do hope you’re well.
The guys and I saw in the New
Year with a bottle of whisky, a fire, and some tunes. We all sang Auld Lang
Sine as midnight approached and then we returned to what we call our beds and
most of us wept, me included.
I’m sorry for not being there,
darling. I don’t want you to live like this, Rosie. You have to remain positive
and healthy.
Sorry this letter is so short.
I have to go.
I love you from now until
eternity--remember that, my love.
Jack
February 14, 1918
Dear Jack,
I did see the doctor, and he
gave me some very surprising news--I am pregnant, Jack.
I am four months along. We
conceived the night you left for France.
Oh, God, Jack. Please stay
safe, now more than ever. We’re to have a baby in five months’ time, and it
needs its father, just like I need you.
Your last letter made me burst
into tears. Maybe it’s because my emotions are everywhere, with me being with
child.
I am due sometime in late
July. Please come home before then. I don’t want to give birth to our child
alone. I don’t want to have to be alone much longer.
Abigail has come to live with
me for some months, due to my pregnancy. It’s something I don’t want to admit,
but I am finding it hard to cope with. All of this is just so overwhelming. I
always expected that when we had a child, you would be here with me all the
way, Jack.
In your last letter, you said
you wanted to be a father. Well, you are.
I hope this news makes you
happy, my love.
You also said conditions are
worsening. How are they? Please don’t shield me any longer. I have felt the
pain of living without you for four long months. The pain cannot get any worse,
can it?
Stay safe, love. Don’t let go
now. We both need you, now more than ever.
I have to stay strong now, for
I have a life within me. A life created by our love.
I love you, darling.
From your Rose
March 20, 1918
My dearest Rose,
I have never felt such pain as
what I feel right now. To know I am here in another country, fighting a damned
war, while you are there at home, carrying our child.
I cannot begin to tell you
just how happy I am, Rose. To know you are pregnant is enough now to carry me
through. I will be home before you give birth. I will see my son or daughter
come into this world.
I hope you are well, my dear.
Keep warm and safe. Do not let anything get you down.
I will be home now before
long, my dear. I swear it.
It will be a good thing when
this war is over. It’s keeping thousands of men from seeing their families. I
am one of the lucky ones. I can write to my wife. Some men here can’t even
write at all, for they have lost limbs. Matthew was shot just two days ago, and
I had to write to his girl to give her the news.
Men are dying left, right, and
center at the hospitals in town. They are full, and some men are even refusing
to go to the hospital, thinking they will die there.
I have never been so close to
death in my life as I am right now.
There are dead bodies
scattered everywhere, of all nationalities, many of which are fathers.
The sights are sickening,
Rose. You do not wish to know any of the details.
I am glad you have company for
a while, Rosie. It will do you good to not be alone.
How are Jo and Timmy? Give
them my love. I do hope Jo is all right and her pregnancy is going well.
How are you, Rose? How do you
feel, despite being so far away from me?
I wish I could simply take
away all of the pain you feel. I wish I could be there with you, to feel our
baby move around inside of you and to soothe you through this time.
Write back as soon as you can.
I wish to be updated with every little thing, darling.
I love you--never forget that.
From Jack
April 2, 1918
My Jack,
All is well, my love. I have felt
the baby kicking non-stop since I told you the news. Maybe it is just anxious
to meet its father.
My spirits have been somewhat
lifted. Breaking the news to everyone at the theater was wonderful. They all
were very kind and I have already gone on my maternity leave. Tom was around
here the other day, painting the spare room as the nursery, and we joked
endlessly.
He has been good to me Jack.
He is a good man. Everything seems to be sinking in now that we are to be
parents. Everything seems perfect, darling, so please hurry home.
Jo and Timmy are both well and
send their love. No one will make better parents than those two. Abigail has
been a godsend. She helps me around the house and such.
I have a rather large bump
now. Every time I look in the mirror and see it I cannot keep the smile from my
face.
I just wish you were here,
Jack. I miss you endlessly. It has been six months since I have seen you,
spoken to you, and touched you.
The doctor has told me my due
date is the twenty-first of July. The thought of giving birth scares me a
little, but I will make it through with your help and love.
I have to go now.
Please write soon.
Love always,
Rosie
April 15, 1918
Dear Rosie,
Six years ago to the day I
fell in love with you. I have loved you since. Six years since the Titanic sank
from under us, and now, here we are, involved in yet another tragedy.
Thierry died in my arms
yesterday. He was shot in the stomach and the arm. His final words were “God
Bless America.” I felt as though someone had ripped out my heart and I had died
with him. His beloved family will now receive a telegram informing them of his
death.
I have never felt so much
anger in my entire life.
Matthew, too, was injured
again. He was shot in the forearm and was taken to a hospital in the city. I
fear I will never see him again.
This war is enough to make
anyone want to just give up and surrender their lives to the Germans, but not
me, Rose. Not me.
I will return. I will see my
child be born. We survived the Titanic disaster. We will face anything
together, and battle it.
I am a survivor. I will not
let this damned war beat me. I will not give into the damned fear I have been
feeling.
You and I were meant to be
together, and nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever stop us from being
together once again.
We will meet again one day,
Rose.
Until then, keep safe.
Love always,
Jack
That was the last Rose heard from
her Jack.
It was April thirtieth when
things went horribly wrong. The day had started out as usual for Jack. The
loud, heavy sounds of explosions and gunfire blasted across the land. The
battle still raged heavily on this, the last day of April.
Jack had gone about the day as
usual. It was at mid-morning that things suddenly changed. There had been a
lull in the sounds of fighting from the trenches, followed by a series of
explosions. The day was clear and still, allowing the sounds to carry for
miles, right up into town.
It was a mustard gas attack.
The still and clear day had given
the perfect opportunity for the Germans to launch the attack. The lack of wind
meant the gas would not be blown back to those who had launched it.
The hospital in town was small
and filled with injured men. The effects of mustard gas had been seen a few
times before in men brought to the hospital on the train, but this was the
first time it had been used in the area. The results were horrifying.
Some men stumbled around, blinded
by the gas. Others lay on stretchers in agony, choking and moaning from the blisters
which covered their body and the effects of the gas on their lungs.
Doctors and nurses rushed to tend
to the patients. Most had already died, but some still lived and struggled to
breathe. The gas masks had been little use to the soldiers.
The doctors and nurses knew, as
they tended to the patients, that they would not survive. They were too gravely
ill and the effects of the gas were too powerful.
Nurses did their best to help the
men, tried to comfort them the best they could, but they knew that soon their
time would come.
On the end bed lay a young man no
more than twenty-five. His head was bandaged and he was unconscious, or maybe
just asleep. His breathing seemed difficult. His chest rose and fell violently.
A large bandage was wrapped
around his legs and elbow. Blood stained most of his body and a few blisters
were visible on his stomach.
He, too, had been a victim of the
mustard gas attack, although it seemed he hadn’t been affected too badly by it
until he took a turn for the worse.
Even in his unconscious state, he
coughed and struggled to breathe. He even coughed up blood.