the German officers began ordering their men to fall back.
The British pursued the enemy as they retreated, while the tank, and its crew, continued cutting down the grey uniformed figures, as they ran before it.
For months the two front lines had faced one another, with neither side being able to gain the upper hand. Now there was a breach, and the British were through. Now was the opportunity to roll up the enemy.
Falling in behind the tank once again, Richard and his remaining men helped push the enemy further and further backward. However, they were now past the line of trenches, and out in open ground. Now they were exposed, and the German artillery was ready. Instead of a wide line of deeply entrenched troops to attack, they now had exposed targets in the shape of the tank, and the men advancing behind it.
As the first shells landed around them, Richard realised that he had made a mistake. ‘ Get back to the trenches! ‘ he screamed at his men, as a second volley landed even closer to the tank.
The crew aboard the tank, realising that they were being targeted, ceased their chase, putting the tank into reverse and returned the way they had come as a third volley tore up the ground where they would have been. As the tank retreated, it kept pace with Richard and his men.
‘Get as far away from the tank as you can! That’s what the Germans are aiming at!’ screamed Richard.
Just then, a fourth salvo straddled the tank, and one shot scored a direct hit. The tank exploded in a mushroom of heat and energy, its metal plating turned to shrapnel that was cast far and wide.
Richard and his men were cut down like wheat before a scythe.
Seeing the tank destroyed, the German retreat was brought to a halt, and the officers rallied the men for a counterattack.
Not having had time to set up defensive positions, the British were forced out of their new positions, retreating once more to where they had begun the day, with nothing to show for their efforts, but a huge loss of life.
* * *
News of the deaths of Richard and Robert Brown reached Walton Village a week later.
Their solicitor reflected sadly on their untimely deaths; particularly as he had just completed the transaction of transferring title of the land below the proposed dam to Richard. The solicitor was however, much relieved that Robert had enclosed enough money to cover his fees for the transfer. He now began the process of handling the deceased estates of the cousins, with the additional fees that that would bring.
Robert, being a bachelor, had no relatives at home, but he was sadly missed by the loyal workers on his estate. They wondered if they should continue with the work on the dam, but as his brother was in Canada, and as they had had no instructions to the contrary, they continued with the project, dedicating their work to their dead employer.
Richard’s wife and son took the loss of their husband and father hard. He had been the backbone of the farm, and both were at loss as to how they could continue. Still, they were sturdy country folk, and struggled on, unaware of the deal made between the cousins.
Their struggle was made all the more difficult when their stream ceased to flow ...
While the guns of The Great War — The War to End All Wars — was turning the fields of France and Belgium into stinking piles of rotting flesh, a much quieter, and even genteel way of life existed on the other side of the world.
This was the world that Janice Patricia Green, the only child of John Thomas Green and Ann Elizabeth Green, a handsome English couple residing in the British quarter of Shanghai, came to know as home.
John, the latest of many generations of diplomats, was the son of Sir Robert and Lady Green, who was currently England’s Ambassador to Italy.
Ann Green, Janice’s mother, was the only child of Captain Aubrey Taylor R.N. and June Taylor. The Captain was currently on active duty in European waters, while his wife tended their home on the coast of England. There, she constantly looked out to sea, praying, and awaiting her husband’s safe return.
Due to the fact that her father had been assigned to numerous overseas postings, Ann Green had spent little time with her parents. Almost all of her early life had been spent in the bosom of the ladies who operated the Staunton College for Young Ladies. A school whose primary aim was to teach its students those skills necessary to become the successful wife of a man of substance.
This school had no time or space in their curriculum for the personal nurturing of its students. Love was expected to be provided by the student’s family, if and when she saw them, and certainly not by the school’s staff. Self-esteem was found, or not, by the student, as a matter of luck. Consequently, a graduate of the Staunton College for Young Ladies was fully equipped to masterfully manage the running of a household, yet making it a loving household was also a matter of luck.
The marriage of John Green and Ann Taylor was generally agreed to be a positive thing for the career of John, as he followed in his father’s footsteps in the Foreign Office. The pair made a handsome couple, with John’s height and wavy brown hair and Ann her dignified beauty and soft blond hair, as they left on their honeymoon. It was a foregone conclusion that, together, they would travel from posting to ever more important posting, throughout the world. Moreover, true to expectations, John’s initial minor position in Greece had been carried out with aplomb, resulting in his elevation to the position of Under Secretary to the Commercial Attache in China.
The birth of Janice Green had taken place in their residence in Shanghai, and was officiated at by an English-speaking doctor, of Indian descent, from the local European hospital, assisted by several Chinese midwives.
It had proven to be an extremely difficult birth resulting in thirty-six hours of agony for Ann, a fact that Ann, in later years, was never loath to mention to her daughter, whenever that child did something of which her mother disapproved.
The entire experience had been so traumatic for Ann that she swore to herself, and had made abundantly clear to her husband, that she would never allow herself to become pregnant again, especially if it meant being ministered to by a group of ‘heathens’. Ann became adamant that further children could wait until they were posted to England, or, at the very least, to a civilized country. Consequently, to his annoyance, John was relegated to the guest bedroom, while Ann remained in the master bedroom.
Janice was born with her mother’s blond hair, and the startlingly green eyes of her father’s mother. The baby’s green eyes were a curiosity to the oriental staff, who insisted on constantly touching the baby, ‘for luck’.
This intense curiosity from her ‘pagan’ staff further upset Ann greatly. She felt that her hours of agony had resulted in her having given birth to some sort of freak, and after a time grew to hate the baby. It’s constant crying was a drain on her energy, and the thought of taking the child to breast brought on a feeling of such loathing that she refused have it anywhere near her. ‘Get it away from me. Feed it a bottle!’ demanded the furious mother.
At a complete loss as to what to do, John called for the doctor, while the female servants shook their heads and sighed at the stupidity of
