There was no possibility that Grace might have survived. She, together with eight other women of the Queen Alexandra’s Imperial Military Nursing Service, were deemed to be dead.
The loss of Grace filled Perys with a burning determination to avenge her death. The day after the telephone call to General Ballard, when he took his flight out on a patrol, they met up with four German Fokkers.
In the fierce fight that followed, all four German aeroplanes were shot down without loss to his own flight, Perys claiming two victories for himself.
Afterwards, in the mess back at the Arras airfield, while Perys was making a report to Rupert, one of the new young pilots who had been in the flight spoke of his thoughts while the aerial combat was taking place. He declared that Perys had fought with such a reckless ferocity that it had come close to unnerving him.
‘You are lucky to have such a flight commander, take it from me,’ said one of the few pilots to have been with the squadron since its early days. ‘The worst type of flight command you can have is one who is not a hundred per cent ferocious in combat. We took on four Huns today, shot them down, and all of us came back. That’s the sort of man I will always be happy to follow into combat.’
Perys’s champion was not alone in recognising his skill both as a fighter pilot and flight leader. Three weeks later, after Perys had succeeded in downing three more German aircraft, he was told he had been awarded a Distinguished Service Order.
Although the RFC frowned upon the appellation of ‘Ace’, given to some of their fliers by the Press, Perys was rapidly establishing himself as one of their most successful pilots.
Soon after the announcement of the award, Rupert sent for Perys, who entered the office fresh from a sortie in which his flight had destroyed another three German aircraft.
Rupert listened to Perys’s report in silence before sitting back in his chair and smiling at his second cousin.
‘You have done exceptionally well recently, Perys. So well that your exploits are being reported in the British newspapers. In due course you will be going home to receive your DSO from a very senior RFC officer, and as a result of the publicity you’re getting you’ll probably be fighting off the newspaper reporters.’
Perys showed his discomfiture when he said, ‘If it’s all the same to you, Rupert, I would like to forego all the ballyhoo. Can’t you arrange to make the award yourself - preferably over a drink in the mess?’
Rupert smiled at him. ‘I am sorry, Perys, but you’re something of a celebrity and the British public have need of a hero right now. But look on the bright side. Your photograph will be plastered over the front pages of all the newspapers and you’ll not be allowed to pay for a drink anywhere in London! Besides, that’s where I want you to be as soon as we’re into winter and the weather curtails flying. Morwenna and I want to marry before the year is out. Your presence at the ceremony is an essential part of our plan.’
‘You want me to be your best man?’ Perys was surprised Rupert knew so many men of note that he felt quite certain he could find someone with a title, at least, to perform the duty for him.
‘Not my best man, Perys - although you were my first choice. Morwenna has different ideas. She wants you to take her up the aisle and hand her over to me.’
It was a duty that would have been performed by Morwenna’s father, had he been alive.- Perys was deeply touched that Morwenna should want him to take his place.
‘That’s an honour I shall be delighted to perform, Rupert.’ he said, honestly. ‘Have you settled on an actual date yet?’
‘We need to keep it fairly flexible and hope everything will come together at the right time. It will be easier now that Morwenna has been given a home posting after two years in front-line hospitals. It’s largely a result of her ordeal when the Sultan was sunk, of course. She is being posted to a convalescent home and has applied to be sent to Heligan. The nursing corps’ is reluctant to send married nurses to operational areas, so it means Morwenna should be safe for however long the war lasts - although I can see no end to it just yet . . .’
‘No.’
Perys thought unhappily that his proposal of marriage had come too late to save Grace. He had not yet spoken to Morwenna and was not even certain his letter had reached Grace before she boarded the ill-fated Sultan.
Aware that his mention of the hospital ship had stirred up unhappy thoughts, Rupert rose to his feet and said, ‘Right, Perys, let’s go across to the mess. I’ll let you buy me a Scotch to celebrate the news of my forthcoming wedding.’
Chapter 62
Circumstances decreed that Perys was not officially presented with his Distinguished Service Order until January 1918, at a ceremony in London. Rupert’s wedding to Morwenna took place three days afterwards.
The couple were married in a Knightsbridge church, where, for the first time, Perys met with Rupert’s parents and other members of the Tremayne family from whom he had been isolated for so long.
In the main he was greeted warmly, although one or two of the older family members maintained a certain coolness towards him.
Perys’s main regret was that the elusive Hugh Tremayne, owner of Heligan, was not present. He would have liked to thank him for allowing him to stay at Heligan whenever an opportunity arose. Unfortunately, his great-uncle was currently in Ireland and probably not even aware of the hastily arranged marriage of Rupert and Morwenna.
The wedding itself was a very happy occasion. Arabella, now engaged to her young Scots doctor, made a beautiful bridesmaid and Maude was as proud as any mother could be of both her daughter and her new son-in-law.
Morwenna had managed to shake off the distress she had suffered during the weeks and months following the sinking of the Sultan, but she had not forgotten. When she said goodbye to Perys after the wedding reception, tears sprang to her eyes when she said, ‘My dearest wish is that Grace could have been here today, Perys. That would have made everything absolutely perfect.’
‘Everything is absolutely perfect for you and Rupert, Morwenna. Grace would have wished, as I do, that it will always be that way for both of you.’
Rupert and his bride would be spending a few days at a hotel in East Anglia for their honeymoon. Meanwhile, while he was in England, Perys intended visiting as many of the properties ceded to him by his grandfather as possible.
In Cornwall he would stay at Heligan, but had already decided he would still not disclose to the Brays that he was now the landlord of their farm.
* * *
As Perys rode his motor-cycle along the driveway leading to Heligan House late in the afternoon, it was as much a homecoming as any he had ever known, yet nothing was the same as it had been on that first occasion, more than three years before, when he had arrived in the Tremayne coach.
Then, gardeners and labourers had doffed their caps to the carriage in which he was travelling. Now, the occasional convalescent officer, wearing the regulation blue coat, gave him a curious stare as he rode past.
He was mildly surprised that no one came out to greet him, but this was not entirely unexpected. Heligan was no longer solely the home of a frequently absent country squire with servants whose sole purpose in life was to pander to the needs of any member of the family who came visiting. It was a convalescent home, where the needs of recuperating officers were paramount.
Besides, in his telephone conversation with the housekeeper, Perys had said only that he would be arriving today. He had not given a time and was, in fact, rather earlier than might have been anticipated.
He carried his bag of luggage through to the room which was all prepared for his arrival and then set off for the kitchen in the hope of obtaining a cup of tea.
In a passageway he met with a young servant girl whom he recognised as having been a thirteen-year-old newcomer to the house during the time he was at Heligan recovering from his aeroplane crash.
She dropped him a surprised curtsey but would have hurried on had he not called her back. ‘Where is ever
yone? You are the first servant I have seen.’
‘The housekeeper is having a meeting with the nurse in charge and most of the servants are preparing rooms for a new batch of officers who are coming in today, sir.’
‘Is Polly busy at the moment? I would like to speak to her.’
Unexpectedly, the young girl’s eyes filled with tears. Polly isn’t working today, sir. She’s staying at Tregassick Farm for a while.’
Alarmed by the maid’s reaction to his question, Perys realised immediately that Polly’s absence must be connected with Martin, who was now serving as an observer with a bomber squadron based in France.
Fearing her reply, Perys asked the girl, ‘What’s the matter with Polly? Has something happened to Martin?’
‘Yes, sir. She had a telegram yesterday afternoon. Martin has been reported missing, believed killed. Everyone’s very upset about it, him having worked here for so long before he went to war.’
‘Of course . . . I am very upset myself - but we mustn’t give up hope yet, believe me. There are so many reasons why he might not have returned to his airfield.’
Perys was far less optimistic than he hoped he might sound. In the vast majority of cases a missing flier turned out to be a dead flier - yet he desperately wanted Martin to be one of the fortunate ones.
Making a sudden decision, he said to the girl, ‘When you see the housekeeper, tell her I’ve arrived and will be back in the house later this evening. I am going to Tregassick Farm.’
Chapter 63
The sound of Perys’s motor-cycle entering the Tregassick farmyard brought Harriet Bray hurrying from the house. When she saw who it was she asked, apprehensively, ‘Have you come - ? Do you have news of Martin?’
‘No. I only arrived at Heligan a short while ago and was told the news. I came straight here to see how Polly is and to ask if I might help in any way.’
Harriet looked desperately tired and Perys thought she had been crying very recently. She explained, ‘All we know is what was in the telegram. Martin is missing, believed dead.’
Perys thought that in view of the recent heavy casualties suffered by the army and the Royal Flying Corps, it was all she was likely to hear for some time.
Squadron commanders would write to the next-of-kin of squadron members killed in action, but when they wrote the letters depended very much on how many men had been lost and how busy the commanding officer was. Martin’s bomber squadron was likely to be heavily engaged in the current offensive.
‘How has Polly taken the news?’ Perys asked.
‘She’s asleep right now. I think she’s exhausted herself with weeping.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Perys had not been invited inside the farmhouse, but he was aware that at such a time as this the family would not wish to share their grief with an outsider. ‘Please tell her I will try to find out more for her - and for you, of course.’
‘Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ll go back inside the house in case Polly wakes.’
Perys wheeled his motor-cycle well clear of the farm before starting it, in order not to wake Polly. He returned slowly to Heligan, trying to think what he could possibly do to make good the promise he had just made to Harriet Bray.
His first telephone call was to the War Office in London. He was fortunate enough to speak to an officer who was both sympathetic and also familiar with the manner in which the news of men who died behind German lines, or were taken prisoner by them, was notified to the War Office.
Unfortunately, the numbers of dead had reached such proportions that the system had been completely overwhelmed; so too with those who had fallen into German hands.
However, when Perys mentioned that the man in question was a Royal Flying Corps observer, the War Office spokesman said the fate of fliers was usually known much more quickly than that of infantrymen.
When Perys asked that Major General Sir Giles Ballard be informed of his interest in the fate of Martin Bray, the War Office spokesman became even more helpful.
Next, Perys put a telephone call through to the acting commanding officer of his own squadron at Arras. This took much longer, it being almost two hours before he was successful. However, once the link was established, the officer promised to contact Martin’s squadron and find out what he could about the mission on which he had been reported missing.
By the time his telephone calls had ended there was time only for Perys to enjoy a late evening meal and go to bed wondering what the next day would bring.
The acting commander of Perys’s squadron was the first to telephone Heligan. He was able to tell Perys that Martin’s squadron had been bombing a busy railway junction some miles behind the German lines. The aircraft had successfully completed their mission, but were surprised on the way back by an unusually large number of German fighter planes.
During the battle five British aircraft were lost, Martin’s being one of them. Two had gone down in flames but it had been impossible to identify the particular aircraft at the time.
The prospects of Martin having survived were not looking good.
Then, shortly before five o’clock that afternoon, Perys received a telephone call from the helpful officer at the War Office. Identifying himself to Perys, he asked, ‘This observer you were asking about, will you confirm that his first name is Martin and that he was flying with twenty-two squadron?’
‘That’s correct - you have news of him?’
‘Yes, we received it here only some twenty minutes or so ago. He and his pilot were brought down inside the German lines. The pilot was quite badly hurt, but Bray seems to have suffered only minor injuries. At the moment he is in a prisoner-of-war transit camp at Le Cateau. He’ll no doubt be transferred to a permanent camp in Germany very shortly.’
‘Knowing he is alive is wonderful news!’ Perys was highly elated. ‘You are quite certain of this? There can be no doubt . . . ?’
‘None at all. I have his service number here if you would like to check it, but only seven RFC men are on the list that came through four dead and three prisoners. He is one of the lucky ones.’
After thanking the officer at the other end of the telephone, Perys’s first thought was to rush out of the house, jump on his motor-cycle and hurry to Tregassick to break the news to Polly and the Bray family.
Then he remembered that one of the convalescent officers, a motor-cycle enthusiast, had suggested Perys’s motor-cycle was in need of a ‘de-coke’ and had offered to carry out the task for him. The machine would not be back together until nightfall.
Perys felt unable to keep the news he had received to himself until then. He decided to hurry to Tregassick on foot to tell them what he knew.
When he reached the farmhouse there was no one in the yard, but the front door was wide open. Stepping inside to the small hallway, he called, ‘Hello . . . Is anyone at home?’
When he received no immediate reply, he went farther inside the house, and was heading along the passageway that led to the kitchen when the door opened and he was confronted by Harriet.
‘I thought I heard someone . . .’ Tremulously, she added, ‘What is it, Master Perys? Have you had news of Martin?’
Suddenly, Polly appeared behind her and her fear was apparent. It would have been cruel to keep either woman in suspense for any longer than was necessary.
‘Yes . . . and it’s good news. I’ve just had a telephone call from the War Office. Martin is alive and well. He’s been taken prisoner by the Germans, but he’s safe and uninjured. You have no need to worry about him any more. As far as he is concerned, his war is over.’
Harriet turned to Polly, but the Heligan housemaid pushed past her and confronted Perys anxiously. ‘Are you quite sure? There can be no mistake?’
‘None at all, Polly. The telephone call came to Heligan and I hurried straight here. Martin is in a transit prisoner-of-war camp in France right now but in a day or two he’ll be transferred to a permanent camp, probably in Germany. When he arrives there you�
�ll have official notification giving you an address where you can write to him - and he’ll be able to write to you.’
A variety of conflicting expressions fought for supremacy on Polly’s face, then, suddenly, she flung herself at him and between tears cried, ‘Thank you, Perys . . . Oh, thank you!’
‘It’s all right, Polly,’ he said, in a bid to comfort her. ‘Believe me, I am almost as delighted as you at the news. I couldn’t wait to get here to let you know.’
Breaking away from him, Polly ran to Harriet and the two women clung to each other, tears of joy and relief running unchecked down their cheeks.
Chapter 64
Perys left the two women debating which of them should run down the valley to the field where Walter Bray was working to break the good news to him.
He was taking a short cut across the fields to Heligan when the cottages of Polly and Annie came into view, standing side-by-side at the edge of a small wood. He realised that Annie too must be very upset about her brother. He decided he would call in and break the good news to her before returning to Heligan.
When he reached the cottages he stopped, uncertain which of them was Annie’s. While he was trying to make up his mind, one of the doors opened and Annie herself stood in the doorway.
‘Perys! What are you doing here? Do you have some news of Martin . . . ?’ Her expression was one of fear, as that of her mother had been.
‘It’s all right, Annie, he’s been taken prisoner by the Germans, but he’s safe and well.’
‘Oh! Oh, thank God! I have been so worried about him.’
She put out a hand to support herself against the door frame. She appeared so shaken that Perys moved closer. Concerned, he asked anxiously, ‘Are you all right, Annie?’
The Lost Years Page 31