Cello tuned his strings until he was happy with the sound, which was at first weak in the open air, intermingling with the uncertainty of the men and their shuffling and the fragility of the dawn, struggling to make itself seen.
Cello was bare-headed and as he bent his head and shoulders forward his hair fell in its customary way over his face like a student over a desk about to write his exam; a boy even.
Then he threw the hair back and became a warrior. Elgar’s unpublished cello concerto erupted forth, at least the first six bars. The sound did not reverberate as in the cell. But Cello used vibrato on each note which added strength. It caught every man’s attention just as the RSM had on the day he had arrived and announced himself to the battalion. This was a different announcement. He stopped. “Right, now I have your attention. We are going to sing a song and I will play. You have your words… You can come a little closer… can’t they Lieutenant.”
The men shuffled forward. But not too close.
“Okay I will play the tune first and then we will add the song… Ben could you lead the singing.”
Ben looked down at his sheet for the first time.
Cello played; this time without power or vibrato. He just concentrated on the tune, playing it through once. Then he looked up, as a teacher might look over his pupils. “Are you ready, don’t worry we’ll do it a couple of times, until…” His face was wet. But no one saw that. They didn’t know what was in his mind. They knew they had to sing. They held up the sheets
“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.”
Ben heard himself. He was standing apart from the squad, whose voices came a little thinly and unevenly.
Cello stopped playing. “Come on we can do better than that I’m sure. We’ll take it from the top and this time carry on for the four verses.”
“SING, ALL OF YOU, SING!” Suddenly the Lieutenant caught the atmosphere of the moment and his call came like a battle cry.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
This time It came louder and stronger and rose and went on effortlessly to the next verse, as the playing grew in harmony with the singing. The chaplain, who stood aghast, should have been proud.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate
How charged with punishment the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I AM THE CAPTAIN OF MY SOUL.
The song echoed and stood strong, then died as the dawn took its strength on. And Cello was exhausted and laid his instrument aside as if to rest. He nodded to the officer.
The sheets were collected, the rifles unslung. A little parade ground was formed and the men were spaced out into a line facing Cello.
“READY.” The bolts were ratcheted back and rounds fed into chambers. “AIM…FIRE!”
One volley rang out as if rehearsed by the singing. Cello turned slowly, his head tilting slightly towards Ben. He dropped.
Birds did then sing, as if in applause, not alarm.
End
Other books in the trilogy
The Cellist’s Friend
After the execution of his friend, Ben is gripped by a terrible guilt at not having done more to save him. He is obsessed with the song sung at the execution. He returns to the trenches and is badly injured on an operation. Rescued by a Jamaican soldier who is a reinforcement to the Battalion, he is sent back to England to recover. He writes to the wife of the soldier who rescued him, Pearl, only to discover she has become a widow. They fall in love through the exchange of letters.
Despite massive racial prejudice Pearl journeys to England. But how will her presence and that of a writer friend help Ben redeem his guilt and face the parents of his friend the cello player.
Rest Not These Dead
As the war ends Ben and Pearl struggle to find a life in England. She suffers a tragedy which makes her want to return home for a visit. Ben convinces her to marry him before she goes but he needs to find work if he is released from the Army as expected, to support them both and convince her to return.
Still desperate to right the injustice of the execution of his friend, Ben finally returns to France to help clear dead bodies from the battlefield. He believes that this might help him find out the full story of the cellist and recover the cello that he played before his execution which is desperately desired by the parents.
With the help of a journalist Ben and a soldier friend hatch a plan that might right the injustice, but it has huge risks. If it succeeds though it will challenge the whole culture which led to the war in the first place.
About the Author
Robert’s dream of writing a novel about this war dates back almost fifty years to his reading of All Quiet on the Western Front. At the time he was serving in the British Royal Marines. The book led him to question his chosen career. Hearing about relatives who had served, including his uncle, killed in 1917; spurred him on. Much learning and practice brought him to the opportunity of the centenary of the war.
A Cellist Soldier began as a play, his second about the war. A week after starting writing, an actual cello played in WW1 was found in an attic in England. On finishing the play Robert was struck by the story of the cellist’s friend and what might happen to him. So he wrote The Cellist’s Friend. This novel is the prequel. The whole trilogy challenges the injustice and the loss of values in war and its affect on many lives and the culture of nations.
As well as novels, Robert writes plays, poetry and other stage events for an award-winning Arts organisation in South East London. He lives in London with his family.
Also by the author
All About the Boys The last days of Wilfred Owen
A play about the last battle of the WW1 poet, one of the greatest of the war, Wilfred Owen.
The play shows the effect of Owen’s poetry on his men as they prepare for and fight the last battle. A battle which claimed the life of Owen and resulted in one posthumous VC in his sector. The play shows how poetry could have played a part in this fierce battle to cross the Sambre-Oise Canal.
Copyright
Published by Clink Street Publishing 2020
Copyright © 2020
First edition.
The author asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that with which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
ISBN:
978–1–913340–41–4 paperback
978–1–913340–42–1 ebook
A Cellist Soldier Page 23