Christopher Priest - The Separation

Pacifists, Canon Dick Sheppard once said to me, are more interested in war, and better informed about it, than the most bloodthirsty of warriors. The reason is because we think of it endlessly and because the warmongers think of it not at all.

The Red Cross has enough plasters and bandages to wrap around the entire population of Manchester, should the need arise. I know, because I feel as if I have personally counted most of them.

May 6, 1940

Everyone in the Red Cross office seemed tense today, presumably sensing that the war is about to take a turn for the worse. There is talk of a detachment of Red Cross volunteers being sent to France. I cannot decide if I should like to be one of them. I do not want to leave B alone, but the restlessness and raging that goes on inside me is not being quelled by the clerkly preparations we are making in Manchester. My immediate supervisor, Mrs Alicia Woodhurst, seems pleased with me and said today that she will find me more interesting work in future. I shrugged, pretending not to care.

Austerely, I tell myself that to work with the plasters and bottles of antiseptic is pacifist enough. If I am bored by the task, then that is the price to pay for my beliefs.

But in truth I am desperate to be doing something more active. Today, briefly, I found myself envying Jack. He at least has a clear role in the war. I stand to one side.

I was moved to Mrs Woodhurst’s office today, now that the inventory is complete. She set me to catching up with her filing. I worked slowly through it, reading as much of it as I dared, trying to find my way around in what I realize is a vast international organization.

Later, Mrs Woodhurst asked me if I would stay late at the office. She had to go out while I was to stand by in case anyone telephoned us. The evening wore on, making me hungry, tired and increasingly anxious to go home. The telephone did not ring once. Mrs Woodhurst finally returned after eight o’clock and I set off to London Road Station, stopping on the way to buy some fish and chips, which I ate from the paper as I walked along. It was almost dark by the time I reached Macclesfield, the blackout complete across the streets. Only a residual glow remained in the western sky. As I left the station I noticed a group of older men standing around outside the pub next to the pedestrian tunnel beneath the railway tracks I have to push my bike through the tunnel to reach the main road. They saw me with my bicycle and from the way they moved their heads and shoulders, shunning me, they apparently knew who I was. I had to weave my bicycle between them to get past.

May 8, 1940

Today a consignment of tents, long awaited, in a road/rail/sea shipment that originated months ago in Switzerland, arrived at Manchester docks. I had to spend most of the day arranging for them to be cleared through Customs and prepared for collection later by Red Cross trucks. The sheer number involved gave me an insight into the scale of damage that the Red Cross is expecting.

May 9, 1940

Two more of the officials from our Red Cross branch have moved away, apparently to France. We are now short-staffed. Mrs Woodhurst asked me this afternoon if I thought I could drive an ambulance, which I immediately said I could. That would not conflict with my views and might well give me a sense of the action I am starting to crave.

I was not late leaving the office. It was still daylight as I pushed my bike out of the station and headed for the dark tunnel that led to the road. As I did so, a couple of men in working clothes walked directly at me, their shoulders set and lowered. They barged into me, one on each side, knocking me over. The bicycle clattered to the floor. I landed heavily on one shoulder. As soon as I could recover my breath I shouted after them, asking them why they had done that. They were already at the far end of the tunnel but they turned and looked back. For a moment I thought they were going to return and attack me again. ‘Yellow bastard!’ one of them shouted at me, and the other yelled, ‘Coward!’ Their voices echoed down the curved brick roof of the tunnel.

At least it was only that. My bicycle was undamaged so once I was sure the men weren’t lying in wait for me further along I rode home. I have said nothing about it to B.

Downloads from The New European Press Library (www. new-libeuro. com / UK) :

From The Times, London, May 14, 1940:

Yesterday the Prime Minister, Mr Winston Churchill, addressed the House of Commons on the grave crisis that faces the country, following the German invasion of the Low Countries at the weekend.

To a packed Chamber, he said, ‘On Friday evening last I received His Majesty’s Commission to form a new Administration. In this crisis I hope I may be pardoned if I do not address the House at any length to-day. I would say to the House, as I said to those who have joined this Government: “I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.”’

This was Mr Churchill’s first appearance in the House since he took office on Friday. His new war cabinet has been chosen and remaining government appointments, where necessary, will be announced in the next few days. Mr Churchill has declared he will draw his ministers from all parties, forming a government of national unity.

Referring to the overwhelming successes of the German forces, Mr Churchill warned, ‘We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. You ask, what is our policy? I will say: It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark, lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word: It is victory, victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival.’

Information released earlier by the War Ministry revealed that the German army is making progress on most fronts. The Belgian and Dutch armies are falling back and the Maginot Line is being circumvented. British and French troops are putting up stiff resistance but such is the speed with which events are occurring that it is so far not possible to predict where the resistance will hold.

Mr Churchill concluded his short announcement on a note of rallying defiance.

‘I take up my task with buoyancy and hope,’ he declared. ‘I feel sure that our cause will not be suffered to fail among men. At this time I feel entitled to claim the aid of all, and I say, “Come then, let us go forward with our united strength.’”

From Stockport & Macclesfield Advertiser, Stockport, May 17, 1940:

A Rainow man was attacked by unknown assailants last Friday in Moor Road, Macclesfield. He is said by doctors at Stockport Infirmary to be ‘comfortable’ and has recovered consciousness.

The victim, Mr J. L. Sawyer, of Cliffe End in Rainow, was returning from his work in the centre of Manchester when he was attacked by a gang of at least four men.

A police spokesman said that the attack took place after nightfall. Because of the blackout it has been difficult to trace witnesses.

Detective-Sergeant Stephenson of Macclesfield police has appealed for anyone who was in Moor Road between 9 and 10 p.m. last Friday evening, and who might have seen what happened, to come forward.

Mr Sawyer suffered multiple cuts and bruises, including a blow on the head. He is expected to make a full recovery.

A spokeswoman for the Manchester branch of British Red Cross, where Mr Sawyer is employed as a clerk, said at the weekend, ‘We cannot imagine who could have carried out the attack. Mr Sawyer is a valued member of our staff. We believe it must have been a random attack on an innocent man.’