I write historical fiction, romance, and dabble in poetry. My debut novel, The Beauty Shop was published as an ebook in November 2016 and is now available in paperback. Madame Fiocca is based on the real-life of Nancy Wake and was published in December 2019. Spitfire, a short story was recently published in May 2020. At present, I'm working on my fourth novel which is also set during WW2. Books and writing are my life alongside my family, two labradors and the stunning scenery of Cumbria, my home region.
The Battle of Lwów begins. The Wehrmacht and the Red Army battle for control of the Polish city.
In Abbeville, France, the Anglo-French Supreme War Council meet for the first time.
In Canada, the Minister of National Revenue, James Lorimer, introduces a new tax of 20% on income in order to increase revenue to pay for the costs of war. There are also tax increases announced on alcohol, tea, coffee and cigarettes.
In Britain, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor arrive in England after being evacuated from France. Louis Mountbatten brought them back on board HMS Kelly. The couple stay with Major Edward Dudley ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe at his country house, Coleman’s Hatch, situated in the Ashdown Forest in Sussex. This is their first visit back to Britain since Edward’s abdication in 1936.
Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain declares Britain is at war with Germany.
On the 1st September 1939, Germany invaded Poland, attacking all fronts. People throughout Britain heard the whispers of war grow and grow and by the morning of the 3rd September 1939, the tension hung in the air of many a household.
While Chamberlain tried to avoid war at all costs, it was not to be. At 11 am on the 3rd September, people tuned in to listen to the news on their radios, and to their prime minister Neville Chamberlain, who was to address the nation. His voice was grave as he announced:
“This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final Note stating that, unless we heard from them by 11 o’clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received and that consequently, this country is at war with Germany.”
As his speech ended, church bells rang out all around the country then the air raid sirens wailed, prompting people to dash into the shelters in panic. Fortunately it was a false alarm. It was Sunday morning, and children played out in the streets and their gardens. Adults exclaimed, “Oh, God help us,” – those who knew what to expect.
Afterwards, young men all eager to ‘do their bit’ and to have some excitement, rushed out to join up. War had been expected for some time, although Chamberlain and his government had taken action to avoid it. In the meantime, Andersen shelters had been distributed to some 1.5 million homes to people living in areas which the government thought would be targeted by the Luftwaffe. The first shelter was erected in a garden in Islington, London on the 25th February 1939 and thereafter the shelters were rolled out up until the declaration of war.
Following the announcement, the blackout began and the lights all across Great Britain were snuffed out, one by one when darkness fell while gas masks were hastily distributed. The fleet was mobilised, placing the Royal Navy immediately in the action and Winston Churchill was given the post of First Lord of the Admiralty – the same post he’d held during the Great War.
Hitler sent a note to the British Government last night. The cabinet meet this morning to discuss and after around one and a half hours of deliberation, they send their reply to Berlin.
Britain is still standing firm in her undertaking to help Poland …”
As Britain stands firm, Germany are adamant re their claims on Danzig and the corridor, asserting they should be returned to the Reich.
Don’t buy any more groceries than you normally do…”
Quote from the Lord Privy Seal’s office
The British people were advised to stock up their cupboards a few months ago in readiness and now they are being asked to cease any additional buying in of goods. There is a concern that panic buying may begin and the government wish to reduce any additional demands on shops.
Rail passengers will now find notices of what to do in an air raid around the main line railway stations. Passengers are to asked not to leave the train if it stops outside a station during an air raid. Instead, they are to remain in their carriage, draw the blind to protect from shattered glass, and if possible, lie on the floor.
Meanwhile, hop pickers from London’s east end are busy at work out in the Kent fields, armed with their gas masks. The silver lining being the promise of a plentiful bounty of beer over the coming months.
France Evacuates her Children
Around 30,000 children have been evacuated from Paris by train. Gas masks were distributed to all those aged between two and ten. Evacuation of hospitals is underway. The street lights are turned off that evening in case of German air raids.
The British Foreign Office sends a message to Berlin following reports of German sabotage in Poland. Poland is mobilising for war. Posters throughout the towns summon all men up to the age of forty to enlist.
Ambassador Sir Neville Henderson received minimum conditions of settlement from Hitler yesterday, August 29th. Hitler is demanding Danzig and the corridor, and wants Poland to send a negotiator within 24 hours. Britain and Poland refuse.
Henderson meets with von Ribbentrop on the night of August 30th. Ribbentrop presents Germany’s final offer to Poland and warns Henderson that Britain has until dawn to reply, after which time the offer will be considered to have been rejected. The discussions are heated and Henderson claims Ribbentrop refuses to grant him a copy of Hitler’s latest proposals.
It is a similar situation when peace envoy Birger Dahlerus meets with Goering shortly after midnight. Goering shows him the proposals for Poland, but refuses to grant him a copy.
Hitler agrees to grant Britain a 24-hour extension while a Polish negotiator meets von Ribbentrop.
The beloved film, The Wizard of Oz opened today, August 25th 1939 in theatres throughout America. Starring Judy Garland as Dorothy. The film was based on the children’s novel, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by L. Frank Baum.
Also on this day in 1944, Paris is finally liberated following many days of fighting between the Resistance and German soldiers. The French 2nd Armoured Division under General Philippe Leclerc is the first Allied force to enter the city. Parisians,relieved, overjoyed, cheer. The German commander of the Paris region, General Dietrich von Choltitz, signed a surrender at Montparnasse station in the presence of General Leclerc and Colonel Rol,commander of the French Forces of the Interior (FFI).
The new Free French wireless station reports that the German commander of the Paris region, General Dietrich von Choltitz signed a surrender at Montparnasse station in front of General Leclerc and Colonel Rol in Paris.
At 1900hrs, General Charles de Gaulle, the leader of the Free French broadcasts to the nation from the Hotel de Ville. He begins, “I wish simply from the bottom of my heart to say to you: Vive Paris!”
Friends call me, saying they can see huge fireworks all over the Hôtel de Ville, with red and blue rockets answering them in the south and west. It was the signal. The first tanks of Leclerc’s army had just rolled up to Notre-Dame. And then all the bells of all the churches rang in the night, drowning out the rumbling of the big guns.”
Diary entry from Jean Guéhenno, a resident of Paris.
“I have never seen in any face such joy as radiated from the faces of the people of Paris this morning.”
Charles Christian Wertenbaker, Time Magazine’s war correspondent.
American writer Ernest Hemingway, tied with the 4th Infantry, made his way to the Ritz Hotel, where he “liberated” its famous bar, helping himself to numerous dry martinis.
The Battle of Britain intensifies. Some cloud remained at dawn but it was expected to be a clear day, warmer in the south. For northern England, cloud persists and rain showers expected.
Since August 18th, a lull had began, allowing both sides to regroup, rest, and prepare. The Luftwaffe have still not achieved what they set out to do – destroy the RAF. Goring’s original plan was for the destruction of the RAF within two weeks. The battle has now been raging for two months.
August 24th was the first day of a campaign of sustained bombing. The Luftwaffe flew over the Channel in vast numbers, more than the RAF could cope with. At 0830hrs, an enemy formation is spotted off the coast of Calais. The Observer Corps are ordered to keep a look out while Fighter Command HQ is alerted. The formation comprised of more than forty Dornier’s and Ju88s, with a fighter escort of over sixty Bf109s.
610 Squadron Biggin Hill intercepted. Their Spitfires dived into the middle of the formation, scattering the bombers. There is no account of any damage at this time and it’s presumed the enemy turned back.
Enemy bombers were detected that afternoon heading to London, but then changed course, heading towards the Sector Stations of North Weald and Hornchurch. By the time the RAF reached the area, the German bombers were already heading home, a trail of fire and destruction blazing in and around the Thames Estuary.
Combat action persisted over the Thames Estuary and around the coastal towns of Kent. Manston was heavily bombed. Fortunately, despite heavy bombing at Hornchurch and North Weald, operations were not affected. The RAF lose twenty aircraft, eighteen of which are repairable. Thirty-nine enemy aircraft destroyed.
Enemy bombers hit Portsmouth that afternoon, dropping over 200 bombs. This caused the largest number of casualties in a single raid so far in the battle. More than 100 civilians died, and 300 were injured. Homes, shops, factories and the Navy barracks all seriously damaged.
The seaside town of Ramsgate also suffered, with 1200 homes destroyed, and 24 people killed.
On this night, more than 200 heavy bombers raided the Dunlop Fort rubber works in Birmingham, severely hampering the production of tyres.
It was an understanding within the Luftwaffe, that London was not to be bombed unless by direct order of Goring. Up until now, people living in and around London had heard gunfire, gazed in awe at the dogfights in the skies above, and read about the war in the news. Tonight, all that was to change. Up until now, aside from a slight mishap when enemy aircraft mistook Croydon for Kenley and unleashed a couple of bombs, London remained untouched. Another time was a daytime raid when bombs were dropped on the docks and the outskirts of London. This time, it was a night raid, the first ever, and terrifying.
2300hrs: So far for the period of the war, Londoners although often hearing local gunfire, seeing vapour trails of dogfights in the sky and hearing about the war in newspapers and on the radio, and the only experience of bombing was when Croydon was mistakenly identified as Kenley and just a couple of bombs dropped on nearby Croydon and Purley, the target hear was naturally the aerodrome at Croydon. The other instance was earlier in the morning when bombs were dropped on the docks and outskirts of East London. But that was in daylight. This was to be a new experience, a frightful experience, for this was the first time that London would be bombed at night. Bombs dropped over Aldgate, Bloomsbury, Hackney, Finsbury, Stepney, Shoreditch, West Ham and Bethnal Green. The entire East End blazed, infusing the night sky red as shards of flame billowed from factory windows. Buildings crumbled.
Eight RAF pilots listed as missing. Two killed (1 died of wounds).
On August 23rd 1940, the British destroyer, Hostile, strikes a mine off Cape Bon in the Strait of Sicily while on passage from Malta to Gibraltar and is later scuttled.
Also on this day, King George VI orders all Germans and Italians to be stripped of their British titles and decorations. This directly affects Benito Mussolini, who was made a member of the Order of the Garter in 1923.
The Battle of Britain rages on, but this day turns out to be fairly quiet, with the afternoon empty of enemy aircraft due to inclement weather. The night before, a formation of Ju88s crossed the Channel and dropped more than sixteen tonnes of high explosives on the aircraft works at Filton. Production there severely disrupted. The day is spent repairing airfields and telecommunications.
Musical drama, Young People premieres at the Roxy Theatre, New York, starring Shirley Temple. This happens to be her final movie with 20th Century Fox, and is rumoured to be her last ever.
On this day in 1941, Drancy Internment Camp opened as an assembly and detention camp for Jewish people who would later be deported to other camps elsewhere. Originally built as a modern urban community, named La Cite de la Muette – The Silent City – it was situated in Drancy, a northeastern suburb of Paris, France.
On 20th August 1941, French police raided the 11th arrondissement of Paris, arresting over 4,000 Jews. The French authorities interned them at Drancy, marking its official opening. Barbed-wire fencing wrapped around the barracks and courtyard, while guards patrolled the camp.
There were five subcamps of Drancy throughout Paris. Following the Vel’ d’Hiv Roundup on July 16th & 17th 1942, over 4,900 of the 13,152 people arrested were sent to Drancy prior to their deportation to Auschwitz.
Between June 1942 and July 1944, around 67,400 French, German and Polish Jews would be deported from Drancy in 64 rail transports. This included 6,000 children.
Drancy was under the control of French police until being handed over to SS officer, Alois Brunner in 1943.
On 17th August 1944, the Swedish Consul-General Raoul Nordling took control of the camp after the Germans fled the advancing Allied forces, then handed it over to the French Red Cross. Only 1542 prisoners remained alive.
In 2001, Alois Brunner was brought before a French court by Nazi hunter, Serge Klarsfeld, and received a life sentence for crimes against humanity.
The film, “La Rafle” – “The Roundup” portrays the events of the Vel d’Hiv roundup. It is a portrayal of a grievous episode in WW2 history, of complicity and betrayal by the Vichy government and the French police. As it has been said many times over the years, this was a “stain of the war” that ashamedly went unacknowledged for many years by the French government until the 1990s.
Synopsis from imdb.com:
1942. Joseph is eleven. And this June morning, he must go to school, a yellow star sewn on his chest. He receives the support of a goods dealer. The mockery of a baker. Between kindness and contempt, Jo, his Jewish friends, their families, learn of life in an occupied Paris, on the Butte Montmartre, where they’ve taken shelter. At least that’s what they think, until that morning on July 16th 1942, when their fragile happiness is toppled over. From the Vélodrome D’Hiver, where 13 000 Jews are crammed, to the camp of Beaune-La-Rolande, from Vichy to the terrace of the Berghof, La Rafle follows the real destinies of the victims and the executioners. Of those who orchestrated it all. Of those who trusted them. Of those who fled. Of those who opposed them. Every character in this film has existed. Every event, even the most extreme, transpired on that summer of 1942.
Sun Valley Serenade is a 1941 musical directed by H. Bruce Humberstone. The film starred Sonja Henie, John Payne, Milton Berle, Lynn Bari and the fabulous Glenn Miller Orchestra. It features Dorothy Dandridge who performs “Chattanooga Choo Choo”, which did of course receive a nomination for an Oscar for Best Song, was later inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1996 and awarded the first Gold Record for sales of around 1.2 million dollars.
Interesting fact: The film was released in the Soviet Union in June 1944, and was no doubt a fun movie to watch, to escape the horrors of war even if only for a short time. The film is available to watch 24 hours a day to all residents at the Sun Valley Lodge and Inn.
It is said that the film became popular in Jewish Displaced Persons Camps after the Holocaust, with Sonia Henie’s character becoming a role model of sorts, giving hope to those who found themselves displaced, facing an uncertain future.
On this day in 1941, a group of RAF men, all patients at the Queen Victoria Hospital in East Grinstead, founded The Guinea Pig Club. Bored, frustrated by their hospitalisation and numerous surgeries, the club was initially to be a drinking club, a way of passing time. The men named the ward at the hospital, “The Beauty Shop.”
Initially it was named something else, but then one of the men remarked how they were all simply “bloody guinea pigs” to the Maestro. The “Maestro” of course was Archie McIndoe. And, whenever a serious case arrived on the ward, or if Archie was doing the rounds of other hospitals in neighbouring regions, scouting for patients who might require his expertise, his famous words would ignite a spark of hope when he said, “Don’t worry. We’ll fix you up.” And that he did.
Maverick Kiwi Surgeon, McIndoe was a pioneer, taught by his cousin, Sir Harold Delf Gillies who himself pioneered techniques in plastic surgery during and after WW1. Mcindoe treated and cared for burned airmen during WW2. He and his incredible team rebuilt bodies and souls, making the effort to also address the psychological effects of war and injury. Mcindoe gave the men hope, often when they felt all was lost. He invited the entire town of East Grinstead to play their part too, and to invite the men into their homes for tea, to dances, to welcome them into society. The town later became known as “The town that didn’t stare”.
This year, 2021, the club celebrates its 80th anniversary. The club has provided support to its members over the years since its inception. Many of the members from the war years are now deceased and the club no longer holds annual meetings, known to the members as the “lost weekend.” A weekend of much fun and socialising.
This evening, will you raise your glass and remember those brave boys who fought so valiantly for our freedom today? They shall not be forgotten.
Below, a selection of images, from real life to reenactors, all reminiscent of the distant past of WW2, 1939-1945. We will remember them, their sacrifice, their courage, their heroism, all for our freedom.
Geoffrey Wellum DFC, known as “Boy” when he joined 92 Squadron in the autumn of 1939.One of the youngest to fly during the summer of 1940, he had an extraordinary career with the RAF and was one of the nation’s beloved veterans for years afterwards.
Squadron Leader Wellum, speaking in 2013, said: “Somebody said, “Here’s a Spitfire. Fly it, and if you break it there will be bloody hell to pay.”
“Looking at my life now, I had peaked at about 21 or 22. It was just lovely blokes, all together in Fighter Squadron.”
Born 4 August 1921, died 18 July 2018. I’m sorry I never got to meet him. A remarkable man. Many may have seen the film, “First Light,’ based on the book with the same title which was written by Geoff. It’s a beautiful book about his account of his war and I can highly recommend it. I treasure my copy.
I’ve written about D-Day a few times over the years, but today marks 77 years since the British and Allied Forces landed on various beaches on the French coast. Of course, that’s only part of the story and part of the military campaign. Many more men jumped from Dakota’s while the Navy played their part from the ocean depths and the air force theirs in the sky.
D-Day – the words sound strong. It stands for “Day Day” which sounds so very different and rather less effective if you were announcing it to the troops for the first time. D Day has a much stronger military effect overall. The term has become iconic and was coined for the actual name of the campaign – Operation Overlord.
D-Day, launched this day in 1944, was the largest sea, land and air operation. The forces involved in the campaign, included British, American, Canadian, Australian, Belgian, French, Greek, New Zealanders, Polish, and servicemen from Norway, the Netherlands and Czechoslovakia. Soldiers, sailors, and airmen.
There had never been a campaign on this scale before. Even the equipment with which to carry it out was invented, such as landing craft with a drop down ramp so the men didn’t have to scramble over the side of the vessel. The campaign was scheduled to leave the Southern coast of England on June 5th. Due to bad weather, it was postponed, and brought forward to the 6th, when a meteorologist spotted a window of opportunity – a break in the bad weather that was just enough time for the landings to take place.
The south coast became one massive camp as troops prepared and equipment built up. Security was tight, travel restricted. Next came the job of fooling the enemy. Fake news was big news. The allies carried out exercises to confuse the Germans, who were already bracing for an allied invasion. Fake camps were established in England, and fake plans were leaked. Even fake coded radio messages were sent out.
Flight Lieutenant Les Munro, dropped “Window” from his aircraft on D-Day to make it appear there was an invasion fleet off Calais. “Window” was actually strips of aluminium dropped from aircraft to confuse German radar. Les (New Zealander) was a bomber pilot who previously took part in the Dambusters raid in May 1943 with 617 Squadron. The picture above shows him talking to King George VI.
There were more than 5000 ships, 11000 aircraft, and over 150,000 troops. Training for the operation began months before in England and for days leading up to the 5th June, equipment and vehicles lined the streets in England, as troops waited for their orders to ship out. In addition, around 100,000 French Resistance were ready and waiting to carry out planned acts of sabotage on German targets throughout France.
While Hitler had information that there would be an Allied invasion, he did not know when or where they would strike. The Allies launched a series of false operations in a bid to deceive the German forces and lead them to believe that the invasion target was the Pas-de-Calais. Norway and other targets were also leaked. The deception was to prove very effective, leaving the Germans with little defences at the Normandy beaches.
For the troops landing on the beaches, it was anything but a piece of cake.Hitler’s troops had prepared well, building impenetrable defences that stretched along the coast from Norway to Spain. For the troops, surviving the amphibious landings was their first objective. The second, was to breach the defences. Concrete turret defences, walls, and anti-landing obstacles.
News of the invasion reached Anne Frank as she listened to the radio from the family’s hiding place. From her written account she stated how there was “Listening on a secret radio, Anne Frank recounts there was “great commotion in the secret annexe!” She went on to say, “Hope is revived within us. It gives us fresh courage, and makes us strong again”. Tragically, the Franks were discovered by the Nazis and taken away to a concentration camp. Liberation for them did not arrive soon enough.
Nancy Wake longed for D-Day. Having joined SOE and trained hard, she parachuted into France in April 1944. Her orders? To infiltrate the various Maquis groups in the Auvergne region, recruit them, train them in readiness for the Allied invasion. The only problem was, she, like most others at that time, had little idea of when the invasion would take place. So, she carried out her orders. Just before June 6th, Nancy took a trip from her base in Chaudes-Aigues, to Montlucon. She had an address in her head, and her driver sped along the dry, dusty roads, the sun blazing. She wore a dress and had her bicycle in the back of the car. Her mission? Collect Anselm (codename), their new weapons instructor.
When they drew close enough to the town, out of sight of any German checkpoint, Nancy got out, climbed on her bicycle and pedalled the rest of the way. As she approached a checkpoint, the Germans had stopped a male citizen and one searched him while the other waved Nancy through. She arrived at the address, and was surprised to see Anselm was no other than her friend, Rene, from SOE training in England. He would be responsible for training the men to use a bazooka. When they returned to Chaudes-Aigues, Denis Rake, her radio op and friend rushed over to her. “It’s finally happened, Gertie,” he said. Gertie was his friendly nickname for her. “The Allies are here.” Well, needless to say Nancy was miffed to have missed all the excitement, especially all the acts of sabotage her group had carried out during the previous 24 hours.
Events are taking place across the UK to mark this special day this year. In Normandy, France, second world war reenactors paraded in WW2 vehicles in Colleville-Montgomery on June 5. There are also events taking place on the Normandy beaches.
The image above shows an Army nurse at a field hospital. Nurses landed on the Normandy beachhead four days after the initial invasion. The first to arrive were members of the 42nd and 45th Field Hospitals and the 91st and 128th Evacuation Hospitals. (Image courtesy of National Archives, 111-SC-190305)
In the UK, the National Memorial Arboretum will host an event with the Royal British Legion and Normandy Memorial Trust to commemorate the day. This includes a live broadcast of the official opening of the British Normandy Memorial in Ver-sur-Mer.
D-Day was brutal, bloody, with huge losses of life, but it was a monumental campaign which overall proved to be successful, helping to bring an end to the war.
MADAME FIOCCA: A WWII NOVEL Inspired by the true story of SOE heroine, Nancy Wake. Universal buy link: http://mybook.to/MadameFiocca Now only 99p throughout June 2021.
When I first decided to write about SOE heroine, Nancy Wake, I read the tiniest snippet about her beloved husband, Henri Fiocca. It wasn’t much to go on, but it gave me an insight. Having watched and re-watched Nancy in interviews she gave over the years, I gained more insight whenever she was asked or spoke about Henri. Again, it wasn’t much to go on, but it was a little more and that combined with the author’s poetic licence, gave me quite a lot for a novel.
Nancy left her home in Australia and finally, after seeing the world, landed on her feet in her own apartment in the heart of Paris. The city of love. The city of lights. It was a city she loved dearly, and her French neighbours loved her.
While travelling on journalist assignments, she crossed paths with the wealthy industrialist, Henri Fiocca. Henri, an eligible bachelor, had a list of ‘girlfriends’ he’d call and take out to dinner. When he asked Nancy to call him, she replied, “I don’t call men. They call me.”
Needless to say, they crossed paths again, he wined and dined her and they tangoed. The rest is history. They married in October 1939, before the Germans reached France, before Henri was called up to fight. In June, 1940, after the fall of Paris, Henri returned home from the front. He and Nancy settled down to resume married life, but their quiet life was not to last. Nancy became intrigued by the plight of British officers interned at the fort in Marseille. One of them spoke of an escape line and she couldn’t wait to assist. Henri on the other hand was hesitant, only too aware of the horrors that lay in wait should she be caught. Still, he loved her and promised he’d help financially.
While Nancy travelled by train to deliver messages or crystals for radios, with parts hand-sewn into the lining of her coat, the Germans presence was felt more and more throughout France. Even though southern France was the Free Zone, it was thought that German spies were everywhere. When the Free Zone was scrapped, the Germans marched into Marseille, and in no time at all became aware of a mystery woman operating there. They called her “The White Mouse,” because she was so good at evading capture, and offered a bounty for information that would lead to her capture. Of course, Nancy didn’t have a clue, nor did Henri. She continued her work, escorted refugees, Jews and Allied servicemen to the foothills of the Pyrenees where they waited for guides to take them across into neutral Spain.
In January 1943, a tip-off from a friend probably saved her life. He said the Germans had been asking about her. Henri told her she had to leave immediately. It was a mad rush to pack while he gathered a large sum of money for her to take. He arranged her departure with the escape line network. They were both distraught and worried. Nancy always maintained that her war was filled with laughter and that she never felt afraid. I find that typical of her generation, strong, courageous and indomitable. But she was surely speaking of her war before and after Henri, and her departure.
On the day she left, it was hurried and no doubt blurry. Imagine having to tear yourself away from the man you love, from your home and whole life, including your precious, beloved pet terrier. To walk away, pretend you’re going shopping and call back, “I’ll see you later.” Then, with the utmost composure, walk half a mile to the train station, board, and journey along the south coast watching out for German patrols. I can only imagine. And her escape from Marseille did not go smoothly, and if you read MADAME FIOOCA, you’ll find out exactly what happened.
Nancy once said that she loved the Tango – the dance of love. She remarked how well Henri danced. So, recently I saw a trailer for a film that came out in 2008. It’s called Easy Virtue. I’ve never watched it, but in the clip you’ll see a couple dance the tango, and all I saw were Henri and Nancy.
Lest we forget.
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This year’s celebration marks 76 years since the end of the war in Europe, a war that had prevailed for almost six years and taken the lives of millions.
On the 7th May 1945, many people heard whisperings that the Germans had surrendered and the war in Europe was finally over. On that same day, General Eisenhower accepted the unconditional surrender of all German forces at his HQ in Reims, France.
Later that day, the BBC interrupted its scheduled programme with a news flash announcing the news that Victory in Europe Day was to be a national holiday. Newspapers ran the story and the news spread like wildfire.
On the 8th May 1945, Winston Churchill broadcast to the nation stating that at 02:41 am the previous day, General Jodl had signed an unconditional surrender of the German Forces which would be effective as of 11:01 pm that day, May 8th. He added cautiously, ‘We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing; but let us not forget for a moment the toil and efforts that lie ahead.’ Across the waves the war still raged against the Japanese in the Pacific and would continue until August.
Bells that had stood silent now peeled out all around the country and boats honked their horns while fighter aircraft performed victory rolls overhead.
On the other side of the Atlantic, President Harry Truman gallantly dedicated the victory to his predecessor, President Roosevelt, who had died a few weeks earlier on the 12th April.
People immediately rejoiced and celebrations began which were to last for two whole days all across the country, across the Channel and throughout Europe, Canada and America. In Britain, people celebrated with their neighbours in the streets, hung bunting and waved flags. Years of rationing, of making do and mend, of the mandatory and meagre five inches of bathwater, all faded into the background as people seized this moment; their moment, their freedom now secured.
In London, large crowds massed in Trafalgar Square and in the Mall as people made their way to Buckingham Palace where thousands staggered shoulder to shoulder and chanted, “We want the King!” At 3pm, Churchill made a radio broadcast which could be heard over the loudspeakers, and a hush descended over the large crowd of people as they listened to the Prime Minister.
Over the course of two days, the 8th & 9th May, people celebrated and embraced loved ones and strangers in the street, carried away on a euphoric tide. Who can forget this picture, one of many which captured the mood so evocatively on that day, May 8th?
War songs played out, including many of Dame Vera Lynn’s as the crowds sang along. In the evening, fireworks streaked through the sky, replacing searchlights and bombers. In France, similar mass celebrations played out.
Sadly, it wasn’t all rejoicing. For scores of people who had lost loved ones it was a bitter-sweet time. Today, we remember all those who lived through such incredible, dark times and survived, and all those who did not. Lest we forget.
Anzac Day is a national day of remembrance in New Zealand and Australia that commemorates all Australians and New Zealanders who served and died in all wars, conflicts and peacekeeping operations. It also commemorates all those who contributed and suffered as a result of their service. It is annually observed on April 25th, the day which marks the landing of “Anzacs” at Gallipoli in 1915.
Thousands of men lost their lives during the Gallipoli campaign, including 44,000 men from the French and British Empire which included 8,500 Australians and 2,779 New Zealanders. 87,000 Ottoman Turks also lost their lives.
In case you were wondering, ANZAC is an acronym for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.
More than 3,000 Australian nurses volunteered to serve during the First World War. They worked in hospitals, casualty clearing stations near the front line, or on hospital ships and trains. Nurses served around the world, in Britain, France, Belgium, the Mediterranean and the Middle East. Many would go on to receive military medals for acts of bravery and for their service. Twenty-five Australian nurses lost their lives during their service.
The sights they were suddenly faced with must have been truly appalling and shocking, no doubt never witnessed before. Heavy artillery, machine guns and poison gas created injuries on such a huge scale. As one nurse noted, bullets were nothing, but shrapnel tore through flesh and severed limbs.
It was during this time that plastic surgery, still relatively in its infancy, was shaped through innovation as a direct result of injuries sustained by men during WW1. Sir Harold Delf Gillies, a distant cousin of renowned plastic surgeon Sir Archibald McIndoe who I mention in my book, The Beauty Shop: A WWII Novel, became a pioneer in his field during his war service. Faced with men who had had their faces torn to shreds by shrapnel, he had to devise ways of reconstructing their faces, working on jaws, noses, eyes. It was during this time that artists were recruited to paint such patients to record the injuries, and also the reconstruction work that followed.
Jaw injuries were severe, rendering men unable to eat and drink. Often, they had to be nursed sitting up to prevent them from suffocating if they lay down. Some had injuries that left them blinded, or having lost their eyes. Some had their noses literally ripped off, leaving a gaping hole.
Gillies was, like McIndoe, a New Zealander who later became based in London. In 1915 he was posted to France where he witnesses horrific injuries. On his return to England, he established a special ward at the Cambridge Military Hospital in Aldershot where men with facial injuries could be sent. By 1916, Gillies convinced medical chiefs that a dedicated hospital was urgently needed for men with facial injuries. Thus The Queen’s Hospital at Frognal House in Sidcup was established in 1917.
Skin grafts were already in use, but more medical experience was required. Gillies pioneered techniques that greatly improved the success of grafts working, and also techniques in reconstruction. Men were not only physically injured, but psychologically too. They worried how their loved ones and friends would react to their altered image. Confidence was severely affected, men became recluses, depressed. Gillies was clearly aware of all possible problems associated with such injuries and their recovery.
Thousands of men suffered disabilities and long-term health conditions from their war injuries.
Gillies was very aware of the fact that men with facial disfigurements were severely disadvantaged in their lives, going forward. People on the street could not bare to look at them, often turning away or screaming out. Such men would have little to no chance of finding work. Earning a living was vital, so Gillies devised training schemes for the men so that they might learn new skills.
Gillies was a pioneer of plastic surgery, ahead of his time, and he would go on to teach his younger cousin, Archie McIndoe, who himself would become a pioneer in plastic surgery during the Second World War, where once again injuries were witnessed that had never been seen before. Archie took heed of his cousin, and performed magnificent work, including paying attention to the mental health of men too. Once again training was devised to give men fresh interests and new skills to equip them for a new life, a different life, in a greatly changed world after the war.
Another great lady, Nancy Wake, a New Zealander raised in Australia, would have celebrated Anzac Day too, had she still been alive. Nancy also did much for the war effort from October 1940 until the end of WW2. She worked as a courier for an escape network in Marseille, taking supplies to others in the network, and escorting evaders and civilians fleeing the Germans, to the foothills of the Pyrenees. Later, she too became an evader, crossing the mountains to reach Spain. In 1944, she joined SOE in London, and parachuted back into France in time to wreak havoc prior to the D-Day landings. Nancy is of course the heroine in my novel, Madame Fiocca: A WWII Novel.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them.
Laurence Binyon “For the Fallen”
Sir Harold Delf Gillies – 17th June 1882 – 10th September 1960.
Sir Archibald McIndoe – 4th May 1900 – 11th April 1960.
Nancy Augusta Wake – 30th August 1912 – 7th August 2011
"I hate wars and violence but if they come then I don't see why we women should just wave our men a proud goodbye and then knit them balaclavas." Nancy Augusta Wake.
My novel, Madame Fiocca: A WWII Novel, is based on the life of Nancy Wake, the famous SOE heroine, journalist and French Resistance courier.
I first read about Nancy Wake and her role in World War Two several years ago, while researching another story. I remember thinking how incredible she was, leading thousands of maquisards into battle against the Germans in 1944. Her exploits grabbed my attention, and I wondered many things. Who was this woman who helped thousands of Allied servicemen (many airmen) and refugees flee the Germans via an escape network? How did she do it? She escorted them to the foot of the Pyrenees where Spanish guides waited to take them up and over the mountains into Spain. She reportedly killed a German with her bare hands and has spoken of this in many an interview, crediting her training with SOE in giving her such a skill. Then, once back in France as an SOE agent, she won over the difficult temperaments of certain Maquis leaders, and their men, and earned their respect, going on to lead around seven thousand of them into battle against the Germans.
And in-between these battles, Nancy was a lady who wore a silk nightdress to bed and had her own parcels of personal items flown in along with the arms and equipment for the Maquis. SOE sent her precious Lizzie Arden face cream and other things.
I found it intriguing how Nancy always denied ever being afraid during the war. She used to say, “I was far too busy to be scared.” How can that possibly be? Surely everyone was frightened, after all, one never knew who to trust. Even a good friend or family member might give you away to save themselves. I had so many questions and I did not find the answers to all of them, sadly, but I did discover an extraordinary lady who really was very ordinary, but very strong in so many wonderful ways. In writing a novel based on her life, I feel very honoured to have had the chance to do so, knowing that this story has travelled all around the globe and been received very well. It is my own way of shining a light upon one of the most fascinating, amazing women of the 20th century who deserves to be remembered for all that she did.
Nancy Augusta Wake was born in Wellington, New Zealand on 30th August 1912 but her family moved to Sydney, Australia when she was two years old. Her childhood was not the happiest, and her father left them when she was five. Nancy was devastated, having been the apple of his eye until the day he left. Life at home became unbearable for her and when she was sixteen she ran away. That was the beginning of her new life, her story. She found work, lodgings, and made a plan. She needed to save money to buy a ticket out of Oz. Nancy was determined to see the world, a dream she’d had for so long.
Eventually, she achieved that dream with the aid of her aunt, Hinemoa, who sent her a cheque for two hundred pounds. Soon, she set sail on the RMS Aorangi II in February 1933, aged twenty. She sailed around the world, loved New York, Canada and Europe, but finished in England where she had plans. Within a year she’d trained to be a journalist and had a job offer in Paris with the Chicago Tribune. France was a breath of fresh air, and Nancy embraced it as her own, devouring the culture and the language. And the French loved her. She was a jolly Australian woman, pleasant, gregarious, and one to join in. They often referred to her as ‘the girl who always laughed’.
Nancy loved reporting, and her work took her into the heart of Germany when one of her earliest assignments was to interview Hitler. While there she attended the mass rallies and witnessed the rise of the Nazi Party and saw first hand their brutality on the streets of Vienna. It was there while she watched a member of the SA (Brown Shirt) whip a Jewish man that she felt so useless because she couldn’t stop it. She vowed then that if ever she had an opportunity to do something about the Nazis, she would.
As war brewed, Nancy met and fell in love with Henri Fiocca, a wealthy industrialist. They married on the eve of war. When Henri was drafted to the front, Nancy decided to relinquish her wealthy life in Marseille and volunteered for the Red Cross, driving an ambulance. When the Germans took Paris, she drove home, weeping part of the way, and waited for Henri’s return. Fortunately he returned home within a month or two and life resumed some semblance of normal.
The German presence was not felt much in the south of France until later. Even so, when Nancy discovered an escape network had sprung up with its HQ in Marseille, she rose, eager to do whatever she could to help. That was the beginning of her clandestine work. Henri would have preferred her not to have become embroiled in that, but he assisted her and the network mainly with financial donations as money was key.
Nancy was undoubtedly busy as a courier for the escape network in the early years of WW2, and having such a sense of purpose possibly helped her brush aside any natural fear. She had a strong spirit and the strength to push on, fighting what she perceived to be a worthy cause, despite the risks. It was around late 1942 when the Germans became aware of a woman operating in southern France, and they dubbed her “The White Mouse”, offering a bounty for her capture. However, she never knew about this or the bounty, not until much later.
Nancy was the consummate actress, quite forward, openly flirtatious with German soldiers in order to bluff her way through checkpoints. Painting on a brave face was a simple task and like a chameleon, she was changeable and adaptable to any situation or environment.
A friend tipped her off one day in January 1943 when the Gestapo were asking questions in her neighbourhood. Her husband, Henri, decided there was no choice but for Nancy to leave. It was the last thing she wanted to do, especially as Henri said he had to stay behind to secure his business but he promised he would follow on and meet her in London. And her escape? It was not a straightforward journey. She had to wait months, hiding at a safe house while arrangements were made and conditions were right for a journey that would lead her up and over the perilous Pyrenees and down into neutral Spain. During her wait, she made firm friends she would always remember and revisit after the war, people to whom she owed much.
Later, in London, she joined SOE and would parachute into France in April 1944, with plans to arm, equip and train thousands of Maquisards, and to cause disruption to the Germans ahead of D-Day. She was then code name Helene.
The French men she fought with loved her. They thought she was amazing, and formidable. Nancy made many firm friends for life, and one of them, Henri Tardivat, once stated: “She is the most feminine woman I know, but when the fighting starts she is like five men.”
Nancy Augusta Wake began life with very little, and went on to marry a wealthy man, Henri Fiocca, living a millionaire’s life, only to lose it all through war. At the end of it all she had to start again. Her story is a tragic story, like so many from those dark, dangerous years, but she eventually found happiness and perhaps peace later when she met and fell in love with John Forward, a fighter pilot at the end of the war. They married and settled eventually in Australia.
She visited France many times after the war, met up with old friends, reminisced over their exploits. Later, after John died, Nancy relocated to England having sold her many medals at an auction for quite a sum. She set up home at the Stafford Hotel, just off Green Park in the heart of Mayfair, London. At 11am each day, Nancy would arrive at the American Bar and order her usual – G&T. She lived there for two years, long enough for the hotel to have a bar stool specially made with her name engraved. If you go there today you’ll be able to order cocktails such as ‘The White Mouse’ and ‘The Spitfire’. Her stool is still there if you care to see.
Nancy moved to the Royal Star and Garter Home on June 9th 2003 and was there for just over eight years. Even towards the end of her days she was not forgotten. She received letters and pictures from people around the world, many from children whose pictures gave her great delight.
On August 7th, 2011, the world lost another of the greatest generation when Nancy Wake passed away. Her coffin, draped with the Union Jack, bore three small white mice, a fitting tribute to a war heroine. Her ashes would be scattered later as she requested, in the Montlucon area in her beloved France, where she spent exciting and enjoyable times that she once described as the best years of her life.
This is her quote from her own autobiography:
“I already knew the horrors a totalitarian state could bring and long before the Second World was declared, I understood that the free world can only remain free by defending itself against any form of aggression.
I knew too that freedom could not be permanent. It has to be defended at all cost, even if by doing so part of our own freedom has to be sacrificed.
Freedom will always be in danger because, alas, victory is not permanent.”
Nancy’s real story reads like something out of Hollywood. She was a wonderful human being, kind, incredibly generous, the greatest friend to have, and incredibly patriotic and brave. She was undeniably one of the great heroines of that era, although if she were still with us I know she’d dismiss that in a heartbeat. My greatest regret is not having had the chance to meet her and yet I feel as if I know her as well as any good friend.
Nancy Grace Augusta Wake 30 August 1912 – 7 August 2011
My latest release, SPITFIRE, is a short story set during WW2, and features a male protagonist, Sam, a fighter pilot flying sorties over Dunkirk during Operation Dynamo. I have no idea where he came from except to say that one morning he simply materialised, and in good time too. As the 80th anniversary of the evacuation of the Allied forces at Dunkirk approached, I wrote this short story. I was in the planning stage for the next WW2 novel, so maybe that was the nucleus, either way young Sam stomped into my world and he’s here to stay, at least for a while. You see, he’s to be the protagonist in my next book, so that’s a good thing as I’ve come to know him quite well as I attempt to plot and build scenes around him. It truly is a strange writers world, unique, serendipitous, and exciting.
A gripping tale of the courage and heroism of Churchill’s “Few” based on true events. Perfect for fans of Robert Radcliffe and Laura Hillenbrand.
May 1940. The French and British armies are in retreat as Hitler’s blitzkrieg storms through France. Finally, they are beaten back to the coast at Dunkirk, with nowhere left to flee. Churchill is determined to rescue as many men as possible, for without her army, Britain is sunk. A plan is hatched to evacuate the men from the beaches by sea, but it will take the combined strength of all the forces to ensure its success.
Sam, a young RAF pilot flies sorties daily over France, engaging the enemy in the skies over Dunkirk. He is determined to protect the men trapped on the beaches below, and give them a fighting chance of returning to home shores. Day after day he returns to base when others do not. He witnesses friends shot down by the Luftwaffe, sometimes lost at sea. And each time he wonders when his luck will run out, yet still, he returns to the hell in the skies.
Survival is Victory.
2020 is the 75th anniversary of VE Day. While the war still raged on in the Pacific, it was finally over for all in Europe and great celebrations rolled out around the world. Why not celebrate by reading a new book about those remarkable times, and in doing so, remember the “Few” who gave their all for us today. Lest We Forget.
I have loved reading about history for as long as I can remember. On more than one occasion, I was asked what class I was reading a book for and I had to admit that it was something I had selected to read for enjoyment. Yet, I was not familiar with the story of the “radium girls” until I listened to Kate Moore’s excellent book.
It was one of those snippets of history that seems unbelievable. When you think things are changing for the better, something happens and everything gets worse. Then you realize that events just like it continue to occur to this very day.
Called radium girls because of the luminescent paint they used to make watch and instrument dials glow in the dark, the young working-class women who were exposed to radium on a daily bases began sickening and dying in the years immediately following World War I. The companies they worked for denied liability, rejected the idea that radium was the cause of the women’s problems, and made any excuse at their disposal to avoid a decrease in profits.
The women had little help from the outside. Doctors, who had been using radium as a sort of miracle cure, were reluctant to admit that it might be dangerous. Most lawyers had no interest in taking on the case of women with little ability to pay fees and insufficient support to win their case. Worker’s compensation laws varied by state and often didn’t include the women’s situation. They were left at the mercy of the corporations that had caused their health to fail and then often fired them when they were unable to work.
When women began to die of radium poisoning, the symptoms were attributed to all manner of diseases. Diphtheria, tuberculosis, and even syphilis were documented causes of death for some of the poor girls. Some of the results of radium poisoning, such as sarcoma and infections, were listed as cause of death without an understanding of the underlying cause. Some doctors were in the pocket of the radium industry. Others simply didn’t know any better.
In Luminous, I have focused on the story of Catherine Donohue, an employee of Radium Dial in Ottawa, Illinois. Catherine was a typical small town girl, who counted herself lucky to obtain a good-paying position at the dial studio, until she developed a limp that never healed. Then she watched one of her friends collapse at work and another die of an infection that spread like wildfire. Catherine stood up for the Ottawa dial painters, even as her own health failed. Luminous is her story, and I hope that it is one that inspires curiosity about the past as well as a hunger for justice in the present.
Samantha Wilcoxson is a history enthusiast and avid traveler. Her published works include the Plantagenet Embers series with novels and novellas that explore the Wars of the Roses and early Tudor era. Luminous is her first foray into 20th century American history, but she suspects that it will not be her last. Samantha enjoys exploring the personal side of historic events and creating emotive, inspiring stories.
This week I’m on tour with my latest release, Madame Fiocca. For those who don’t know, it’s about Nancy Wake, the infamous SOE heroine, journalist and French Resistance courier. Here’s a piece I wrote for Viviana Mackade’s fabulous book blog today. To read the entire piece click the link below:
by Suzy Henderson, author of Madame Fiocca.
I first read about Nancy Wake and her role in World War Two several years ago, while researching another story. I recall thinking how commendable, but I read on, discovering other heroines of SOE including the American, Virginia Hall, the first female operative in France. What is even more remarkable is that she had a prosthetic leg. While working with the Special Operations Executive in France, Virginia had to escape over the Pyrenees, quite literally at one-point crawling part of the way. It was an incredible achievement and so courageous.
One day I came across an article about Nancy Wake, and it mentioned her husband. That caught my interest, so I bought a biography of Wake written by Russel Braddon. Suddenly, Nancy was on my mind and I wanted to know more, such as where she grew up, and her life before France. Braddon’s book was wonderful, but it didn’t cover much of Nancy’s life in Australia. I then bought Nancy’s own biography, written at a later stage in her life. Once again, not much in there about Australia, so I decided to go digging on the internet, turning to genealogy sites as I looked for family ties. Well, after many hours of searching and triple checking the facts, I discovered her family tree, unearthing British, Maori and French roots.
I discovered through Nancy’s own words in her books and tv interviews, that her father had abandoned her and her family at an early age. And there was something else that stood out every time Nancy spoke of her war times. She vehemently denied ever being afraid, saying things such as she was far too busy to be scared. I found this interesting, because I’ve also heard of soldiers and airmen who have said exactly the same. And then I’ve heard dozens more state that any man who said he wasn’t afraid in war is a liar!
The fact is, Nancy was the consummate actress, quite forward, openly flirtatious with German soldiers in order to bluff her way through check points for instance. She could probably do just about anything and so painting on a brave face was a simple task. Like a chameleon, Nancy was changeable and adaptable to any situation or environment.
The French men she fought with and led loved her. They thought she was amazing, and formidable. Nancy made many firm friends for life, and one of them, Henri Tardivat, once stated: “She is the most feminine woman I know, but when the fighting starts she is like five men.”
Food for thought indeed. My take was that Nancy would have been afraid. Fear is a natural response after all, but Nancy had a strong spirit and the strength to push on, doing what she needed to do despite the risks.
There’s a lot to consider when writing about a real person, and the fear factor was important to me because I knew it existed, and I didn’t wish to write a person who was completely without it.
Re-reads of the biographies gave me more insight – it’s funny what you miss when reading something the first or even the second time. Piece by piece Nancy was emerging before my eyes.
Having gone from learning about a New Zealander, raised in Sydney, who became a guerrilla fighter with the Maquis in France – a great leader of some 7000 men, I was suddenly facing a woman who bore her own emotional scars, who did admit to feeling worried at times during the war, and who was a true lady with the heart of a lion. She was a born leader, involved in dangerous courier work for Resistance groups from the very beginning in France, and well before she joined the Special Operations Executive. It was during this time that the Germans became aware of a woman operating in southern France, and they dubbed her “The White Mouse”, offering a bounty for her capture.
Her real story reads like something out of Hollywood, and I was hooked, and I knew I had to write about her, to enable people to see the real Nancy. She was a wonderful human being, kind, incredibly generous, the greatest friend to have, and incredibly patriotic and brave.
Nancy Augusta Wake began life with very little, and went on to marry a wealthy man, Henri Fiocca, living a millionaire’s life, only to lose it all through war. At the end of it all she had to start again. It’s a tragic story, but she eventually found happiness and perhaps some peace later when she met and fell in love with John Forward. They married and settled eventually in Australia.
Nancy never got over the loss of Henri. He was, as she often remarked, the greatest love of her life, and his selfless sacrifice was her one regret from the war years.
Henri was arrested in May 1943 and tortured by the Germans, but he refused to give up his wife’s location. On October 16th, 1943, Henri Fiocca was executed by firing squad. And to the end of her days, Nancy always declared that “the only good Nazi is a dead one”.
Nancy Grace Augusta Wake 30 August 1912 – 7 August 2011
Join me here at Viviana Mackade’s wonderful book blog and discover more about Nancy Wake, the lady behind my latest book, Madame Fiocca. Enter the giveaway for your chance to win a free copy of the book.
Madame Fiocca by Suzy Henderson released in December last year in the Adult, Historical, Young Adult genre.
February 1933: Nancy Wake is a gregarious twenty-year-old looking for adventure. Having fled her unhappy family home in Sydney, she becomes a journalist and is thrilled when she is posted to Paris. Thecity is glamorous, brimming with journalists, artists, and a growing number of refugees.
Later, in the French Riviera, she uncovers more than news following a chance encounter with wealthy industrialist, Henri Fiocca. Their relationship blossoms as Hitler makes waves across Europe. While onan assignment in Vienna in 1938, she witnesses Nazis whipping Jews on the street and she vows to fight for justice if ever the opportunity arises.
When Henri is called to the Front to fight, Nancy, determined to help the war effort, joins the Red Cross as an ambulance driver. Every day she witnesses atrocities. When Paris…
From the first paragraph of this enthralling biography that reads like a memoir, my attention was firmly grabbed and it never once flagged, even when it looked like Nancy’s life would be all love and roses. I had never heard of Nancy Wake, the independent, adventurous woman who seized life with both hands, living fully, embracing all it had to offer. But I immediately fell under her spell, tagging along as she made her way into adulthood and headlong into some of the most tumultuous times our world has ever known.
It took no time for Nancy to land plum assignments in Europe, where her love of food and culture bloomed. She lived a dazzling life as she made her way across the continent, reporting news of the emerging monsters—Mussolini, Franco and Hitler—as they cut a swath of misery and destruction across Europe. And in the middle of all the turmoil, Nancy fell in love with a man whose heart she had captured at first sight.
I can see why author Suzy Henderson was drawn to Nancy Wake, and the woman she would become, Madame Fiocca. As far as personalities go, Nancy was indomitable. She didn’t think twice about jumping into the fight against Hitler with both feet, regardless of the fact that she was a woman and had only minimal time to train.
Nancy relinquished her own happiness to help others to safety, to take up the fight, putting all she held dear at risk. She used her intelligence, her righteous hatred of Hitler and his goon squads, and her ability to slip past the enemy using her unique mixture of femininity, cunning and skills to her advantage. But it was her refusal to ever give up—regardless of pain or exhaustion or heartache—that makes her such a fascinating character. I absolutely loved this incredible account of a legendary woman—Madame Fiocca.
My most recent release is a novella, Christmas at Blue Hydrangeas, a prequel to my novel Blue Hydrangeas, an Alzheimer’s love story. So many readers told me they wanted to return to Blue Hydrangeas, a Cape Cod bed and breakfast, after reading BH that I had to revisit the Harmon family and write another story. The book was inspired by The Great Blizzard of 1978 and takes place decades before Sara’s Alzheimer’s. It’s a heartwarming holiday read fans love. Description: It’s Christmas Eve, and, as Sara waits for her husband and son to arrive home to Blue Hydrangeas, a blizzard threatens to close the bridges, stranding all travelers to and from the Cape. As she prepares for the holiday, unexpected visitors arrive, all sharing the common bond of grief. Sara is determined the storm and sadness will not spoil Christmas, and ensures Santa will find his way to two fatherless children far from home. A sweet slice-of-life story about loved ones and strangers coming together to share the spirit of Christmas.
You write in various genres. Can you tell us a little more about that.
I consider myself a storyteller, and my stories sprout from real-life experiences and events. For instance, Blue Hydrangeas was born not only from my witnessing the Alzheimer’s and dementia several family members encountered, but also from my work as a registered nurse caring for patients and families living with these diseases. My Young Adult novel Swim Season was inspired by my daughter’s 10-year varsity swimming career. And the short stories in my Daisy Hunter series are reflections on pivotal events in my childhood. I’m not married to any particular genre. I market my work as Contemporary, Women’s, and Young Adult fiction, but collectively they are all heartwarming, family stories that appeal to a variety of readers.
Tell us more about your writing process. Are you a plotter or a panster?
Is one method better than the other? If you asked a hundred writers you’d get a hundred different answers. For me, a more hybrid approach seems to work. When I start a new story I have to feel comfortable with what I’m writing, and actually have something to write. I’m not one to sit in front of a blank page and wait for inspiration. The inspiration has to be eating at me for a while before I start typing. I need at least a working title, a theme, the setting, a few well-thought out characters, and a series of scenes in mind that will drive the story from beginning to end. Sometimes I write this stuff down on random slips of paper or in designated notebooks. For the most part it’s locked in a special vault in my writer’s mind. Yet I don’t like feeling confined and am willing to explore new directions and plot twists as they arise.
What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? The least?
It may seem odd but I enjoy the often dreaded rewriting process the most. I love ripping apart a story, adding illumination, “killing my darlings” to make the story stronger, and running it through a variety of checks to make sure it’s the best it can be. I use a tool called Autocrit as well as a few other tricks to do this. The part of the writing process I like the least is the chronic pain I live with due to repetitive strain injuries caused by an inappropriate computer work station. This has tormented me since 2006, and slows my writing down to almost a crawl, if I’m able to write at all. You can read more about this here.
When did you begin writing?
My dream of being a writer started when I first realized writers make books, and I’ve loved books since I was a small child. In grade school, I often wrote “books,” which were scraps of paper covered in prose and stapled together. In high school, I discovered journalism and decided I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. In college, I majored in English and learned how to write. I worked for several newspapers as a freelancer and was the editor-in-chief of the student newspaper. After graduation, I struggled to find a full-time news job and failed, so I took a detour and went into nursing. I didn’t write for years, but then the nursing department at my hospital started a newsletter and I volunteered to take over as editor. This reignited my desire to write, and I soon held the first draft of my first novel, Blue Hydrangeas, in my hands. I haven’t stopped writing, and since 2013 have published three novels and three short stories. My work is available in paperback, ebook, and audiobook.
Any tips for new writers?
New writers need to understand that it’s exceedingly difficult to land a literary agent or to succeed in traditional publishing. The self-publishing boom has allowed millions of aspiring authors to publish their work, so the marketplace is flooded. It’s a challenge to find footing in this market. You will most likely not become rich or be able to quit your day job to be a full-time writer. If money is your motivation, find something else to do. If you truly desire to write and find a few readers, proceed with care. There is much to learn, know, and do, but it is not impossible to publish your own work and find an audience.
A growing number of authors listen to music as they write. Apparently, it can induce creativity. Do you listen to music or do you prefer silence?
It depends on my mood. Sometimes I listen to music but it can be distracting. I also find silence distracting because breakthrough noise – street sounds, my cats racing around the house – interrupts my concentration. I often have the TV on in the background, turned to something I don’t want to watch, but the voices keep me company. When I do listen to music it’s usually while plotting, thinking deeply about my story, often when driving. For instance, when writing Swim Season I came up with a playlist to inspire me. Many of the songs ran through my head as I composed important scenes. That was very motivational.
What are you reading now?
I belong to four book clubs (manage two!) so I’m usually reading something for one of them. I don’t attend or read for all four each month, I don’t have time for that, it depends on what we’re reading. I like to travel in my reading, so this month I’m going to Africa in Homegoing, written by Yaa Gyasi, an epic novel that, from the jacket, “traces 300 years In Ghana and along the way becomes a truly great American novel.” I’m always reading something on my Kindle too, and my current read, Nantucket White Christmas by Pamela Kelley, takes me to one of my favorite spots, Nantucket Island. I just finished Let it Snow, a highly recommended read from my favorite Nantucket author Nancy Thayer. This one just may be her best. February kicks off with the classic Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston, a book club selection for Black History Month. So, you can see I’m an eclectic reader and travel far and wide geographically and throughout time via books. You’ll never find me not in the middle of at least two or three.
What are you working on at the moment?
My current work-in-progress is about a wedding. It’s another prequel to Blue Hydrangeas aptly entitled A Wedding at Blue Hydrangeas. I started it during Christmas week, 2018, shortly after publication of Christmas at Blue Hydrangeas. Ironically, my daughter became engaged in March, 2019, and I put aside my manuscript to focus on planning a real wedding, held December 29th, which was very different from the fictional wedding I conjured for my novella. In AW@BH, our heroine Sara is planning an outdoor, July reception for her son David and his bride Anne at their beautiful bed and breakfast, Blue Hydrangeas. They’re hosting a traditional Cape Cod clambake for 60 guests after a church ceremony. Unfortunately, a series of unforeseen events threaten to disrupt Sara’s careful planning. WIll the wedding go on? You’ll have to read the book, but first, I have to finish writing it.
An Excerpt from Christmas at Blue Hydrangeas
Sara peered out of the window and noted another inch of fresh snow on the ground. Time to get out the shovel.
She bundled up in an old parka and headed outside. The snow was light, and she cleared it with ease. She enjoyed working in the frigid weather, the cold air stinging her cheeks, her body made warm by her efforts. While she worked, she hummed a medley of Christmas carols.
The wind whipped the snow around her, and she remembered the empty bird feeders. She cleared an additional path to them and filled each with seed. She couldn’t bear to see her birds suffer. Satisfied, she moved on to the front of the house and was almost finished clearing the front walk and stairs when the sound of an approaching motor vehicle broke the silence. Seconds later, a pickup truck carrying a load of Christmas trees made its way up the drive.
She finished removing the last of the snow from the entrance to the house. “Come on in,” she called to the truck’s occupants as they exited the vehicle.
Minutes later, two burly men carried a magnificent Colorado Blue Spruce, ordered direct from the tree farm, up her front walk and into the house. She guided them into her formal living room and indicated the space in front of the window, a tree stand in place.
“Right there will be fine, Kenny,” she told the man in charge. His partner, Tom, was younger and smaller and never said much. She shed her parka and gloves, dropping snow onto the hardwood floor, and made a mental note to mop it up as soon as the men left.
“Do you want us to set it up for you?” Kenny took a small saw out of his pocket.
She nodded, and the men proceeded to cut an inch or so off the tree’s trunk. They stood the tree to its full height and inserted it into its sturdy metal stand. While she gave instructions, they positioned it to its best advantage.
“A little more to the left. Now back a bit. Not that far back. OK, that’s good. Leave it there.”
Pleased with the positioning of the tree, she waited while they secured it. They stood when finished and stepped back to appraise it with her.
“It’s a nice tree,” Kenny said. “We cut it down just yesterday morning.” He took a deep breath. “The room already smells like pine.”
She inhaled, closing her eyes. “It’s wonderful.”
“Anything else we can do for you before we hit the road? The snow’s getting heavy. The town’s plows can’t keep up with it.”
“How bad are the roads?”
“Getting worse by the minute.
Her hopes plummeted. “But the weatherman on the radio said the heavy snow will end later this morning.
“Haven’t you heard?” Kenny raised his bushy eyebrows. “Old news. The storm’s taken a new path. Most recent report says it’s supposed to get worse before it gets better. A lot worse.”
“What are you saying?” She’d turned off the radio after the weather report to enjoy the silence and hadn’t kept up with the news.
“A blizzard is on its way, the second big one this year. Seventy-eight will go down in history as one of the snowiest years ever.
“But it’s Christmas Eve,” she cried, and immediately felt silly. Mother Nature didn’t care about Christmas Eve
“That look on your face tells me David and Jack aren’t home yet.”
“No,” she revealed, even more disheartened. The thought of another blizzard to rival last February’s Great Blizzard of 1978 terrified her. The power had gone out. No heat. No stove. They were snowed in for days. But they were together, camped out in front of the fireplace, keeping warm, able to heat up cans of soup and brew coffee. It was a miserable welcome their first winter as full-time Cape Cod residents. During those long, cold days she considered going back to New York, but remembered the winters there were also wretched. She bucked up and soldiered on.
And now this.
Her debut novel Blue Hydrangeas, an Alzheimer’s love story is a Kindle bestseller, IndieReader Approved, a Library Journal Self-e Selection, and a BookWorks featured book. It’s also available in paperback and audiobook on Amazon. A prequel to that novel, Christmas at Blue Hydrangeas, is available on Kindle and in paperback and audiobook. It was New Apple Literary’s Solo Medalist Winner in the 2019 Summer E-Book Awards for Short Story.
Marianne Sciucco is not a nurse who writes but a writer who happens to be a nurse. A lover of words and books, she dreamed of becoming an author when she grew up, but became a nurse to avoid poverty. she later brought her two passions together and writes about the intricate lives of people struggling with health and family issues. Her stories are considered “clean,” meaning free of overt sexuality, graphic violence, and offensive language.
Her Young Adult novel Swim Season is the fast-paced drama driven story of Olympic hopeful Aerin Keane, starting senior year in her third high school and trying NOT to win. But can she hide her natural talent and competitive streak? Especially with a 50,000-dollar scholarship on the line? Swim Season was an Official Selection in the 2017 New Apple Book Awards: Young Adult General Fiction, and is a 5-star Readers’ Favorite and a BookWorks Featured Book of the Week. Available in paperback, Kindle, and audiobook on Amazon.
She’s also published three short stories in Kindle and audio: Ino’s Love, Collection, Daisy Hunter Story No. 1, and Birthday Party, Daisy Hunter Story No. 2.
Marianne’s writing and publishing career led her to become a founding member of AlzAuthors, the blog for authors writing about the dementias. Their goal is to raise awareness of these diseases and to spotlight carefully vetted books and blogs recommended for caregivers and others looking for knowledge and support. Each week they feature a new author/blogger.
A native Bostonian, she lives in New York’s Hudson Valley, and when not writing works as a campus nurse at a community college. Everything she knows about publishing she learned on her own by reading books and blogs, joining writers’ groups, and attending writers’ conferences. This led her to share her knowledge both online via her blog and Facebook and Twitter account, and she also teaches classes in self-publishing at three colleges.
She loves books, the beach, and craft beer, and especially enjoys the three of them together.
N.N. Light’s Book Heaven New Year New Books Fete running throughout January.
Runs January 1 – 31 2020.
Draw to be held on February 1, 2020.
Calling all readers! It’s a brand new year and I’m ringing in 2020 with N. N Light’s Book Heaven New Year New Books Fete. 39 books from multiple genres featured plus a chance to win one of the following:
Enter to win a $50 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card
Enter to win a $25 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card
Enter to win a $10 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card
I’m thrilled to be a part of this event. My book, Madame Fiocca, will be featured on 2 January 2020. I even talk about my resolutions/goals for the new year. You won’t want to miss it.
Bookmark this bookish get-together and tell your friends:
People often ask me when I began to write and why. Well, the answer is, it crept up on me. My first desire to write cropped up during my English lit degree with the Open University. For those of you familiar with the OU, one chooses which module they wish to study from a selection of courses relevant to the degree. I was in my third year, and at a crossroads. None of the options appealed to me, so I chose creative writing. Well, I thought I love to read, so why not? And that was that. With my love of history and a particular interest in WW2, I was hooked.
For me, it was a defining moment and I have not stopped writing since my degree years. It is fascinating how even the smallest of events define us, often altering our life’s path, encompassing great change. Perhaps we are drawn to the historical past because many events, situations remain current, and so people can identify with the past, and feel a certain connection.
My interests in military history range far and wide, but having come across an old biography written in the 1950s, about Nancy Wake, I was mesmerised. Later, I bought the memoir she wrote herself, published in the 1980s. While it was a captivating read, it mainly detailed her life in France on the eve of war and during. I learned about her time as a journalist in the 1930s, her first encounter with her future husband, Henri Fiocca, a wealthy industrialist, her courageous work as a courier with the Resistance, and finally, her life as an SOE agent.
All accounts talk of her war work, and I often read about this fierce Guerrilla fighter, a leader of seven thousand maquisards, who could drink any man under the table and still be sober enough to recall every detail. But instinctively I knew there was more to this fearless lady. Yes, she was strong-willed, she was angry, so ferociously angry with the Germans, and for a good reason. Mad enough to have the will to do something about their cruel ways.
Nancy was a lady who enjoyed the finer things in life, beautiful clothes, and dining. She was as far removed from the fighter she became when she first stepped onto French soil in 1933. Once I’d read all about her, a picture formed in my mind, but it was one mined with gaping holes, where secrets lay, buried, forgotten, and I had to uncover them to get to the heart of this amazing woman.
Nancy Wake was a frivolous, decent, young woman when she decided to study journalism in the early 1930s. She’d left her home in Sydney, unhappy with family life, embarked on a cruise, docked in England at the finale, and had to make a living. So, having completed a six-month course, armed with the basics in reporting and typing, she was fortunate enough to be offered a post in Paris, working with the Hearst News Group. In the beginning, life was idyllic.
She had suitors, dined out, and enjoyed the jet-setting lifestyle of a reporter, travelling the breadth of France, venturing across borders into Europe. It was her travels where she began to hear and see for herself, the ugliness metered out by the Nazi Party. Like so many at that time, she was intrigued by Adolf Hitler, but when she finally witnessed the brutal treatment of Jewish people by the SA in Vienna, she’d seen enough. It was a turning point in her young, gentile life. A defining moment. Hatred of the Nazis began to burn in her soul, one that would burn until her dying breath. What she witnessed in Vienna defined her in a heartbeat, and she would seize her chance when it sailed along, making a decision that would change her life forever.
The Nancy I went searching for, was a young girl in Sydney, having moved there with her family at the age of two. Originally born in New Zealand, her mother was descended from the French Huguenots and Maoris, her father from the British. Nancy had a tough upbringing, and her parents divorced when she was six years old. Sadly, her father sold the family home, effectively leaving his wife and children homeless. A new home elsewhere beckoned. Nancy was the youngest of all of her siblings, and so childhood was lonely at home. But when she went to school, she found friends and was a bit of a tomboy by all accounts.
It was this innocent child that drew me in because I began to picture a girl who had been shaped by hard family life, disappointment, rejection, an apparent lack of parental affection, and scarred by the absence of her father. As she once said, ‘I adored my dad, but he was a bastard.’ Nancy never saw her father again.
As people, we are so complex, and Nancy was no different. It seemed essential that I discovered every detail possible, to truly know the subject of my novel. Not all detail needed to be included in the book, it’s more about finding the person. After much digging and trawling genealogy sites, I’d gathered as much information as I was likely to find. Finally, I’d found Nancy. And she was quite different to the figure in those biographies.
Once we find what we are looking for, we must make sense of it, and things aren’t always as they seem. Nancy was often quoted as saying that she was never afraid. She was too busy to be scared, or her hatred of the Nazis flowed so deep that eclipsed all else. Well, you see, I believe Nancy was afraid, and, quite rightly so. I think what she genuinely realised was that fear would not be a barrier. She really was far too busy to dwell on it, and, like most people, simply got on with things. As a writer, we have an option to exercise some creative licence when writing about real people, while taking care to be as factually correct as reasonably possible.
As any writer of historical fiction knows, the research phase of writing can be exhausting, producing mountains of notes, many of which are never utilised – at least not in the written sense. But much of what is uncovered is used in other ways because the writer is now informed, and such insight informs their writing, characterisation, voice etc. It is the light bulb moment – a defining event. And it’s exciting, and satisfying when that finally happens.
Madame Fiocca is available to buy now from Amazon as an e-book. It is also available to read for FREE via KindleUnlimited – mybook.to/MadameFiocca
Today I welcome fellow author, Pam Lecky, who’s here to tell us about her latest novel, No stone Unturned, book one in a new crime series.
If you enjoyed a good old execution in the 18th or early 19th century, it was possible to buy a crime broadside at the hanging which was produced by specialist printers. These would feature a crude picture of the crime and the culprit, a written account of the crime and trial proceedings and a doggerel, thrown in for good measure. Most of the poor could not read but they enjoyed the lurid pictures, and there was always someone on hand to read out the cautionary poem.
During the Victorian era, however, literacy rates increased. Combined with technological advances in printing and the advent of the railways making wide-spread distribution viable, the demand for cheap, entertaining reading matter increased rapidly. This led to the first penny serials (originally called penny bloods) being published in the 1830s, and by 1850, there were over 100 publishers of penny-fiction. The penny dreadfuls were printed on cheap wood pulp paper and were predominantly aimed at young working-class men and boys. They usually had eight pages with black and white illustrations on the top half of the front page. Working-class readers could afford these and they did a roaring trade. In contrast, serialised novels at the time, such as Dickens’ work, cost a shilling (12 pennies) per part and were out of the reach, therefore, of most working-class readers.
The subject matter of the penny horrible, penny awful or penny blood was always sensational, usually featuring detectives, criminals or supernatural entitles. Popular characters included Sweeney Todd – The Demon Barber, first printed in 1846, who murdered his clients so his neighbour, Mrs Lovett, could cook them in her meat pies. Then there was the endless retelling of Dick Turpin’s exploits and his supposed 200-mile ride from London to York in one night! Supernatural characters, such as Varney the Vampire were extremely popular. But the most successful of all time was the Mysteries of London, first published in 1844. It ran for 12 years, 624 numbers (or issues) and nearly 4.5 million words.
Many famous authors began their writing careers writing penny dreadfuls including, GA Sala and Mary Elizabeth Braddon. She reputedly said “the amount of crime, treachery, murder and slow poisoning, and general infamy required by my readers is something terrible.” Many authors took the melodrama of the dreadful and infused it into their later very successful novels.
When highwaymen and evil aristocrats fell out of fashion, true crime, especially murder, was the most popular. These were then overtaken in the popularity stakes by detective stories with the focus on the police rather than the criminal. By the 1860s, the focus changed again and children became the main target audience.
It was easy for the middle and upper classes to look down on the penny dreadfuls as cheap, sensational nonsense. Some even went so far as to blame them for infamous crimes and suicide. But I suspect many read them surreptitiously ˗ for who doesn’t enjoy a good yarn now and then?
In No Stone Unturned, Lucy’s maid, Mary, is a huge fan of the penny dreadfuls and cheap sensational novels. Lucy, feeling obliged to look out for her maid’s moral welfare (so she claims!), often reads these books and thoroughly enjoys them, too. When the women’s lives are in danger, Mary comes to the fore with her penchant for intrigue and spying. Lucy suspects Mary’s favourite reading material may be at the root of it.
No Stone Unturnedis the first book in the Lucy Lawrence Mystery Series.
A suspicious death, stolen gems and an unclaimed reward: who will be the victor in a deadly game of cat and mouse?
London October 1886: Trapped in a troubled marriage, Lucy Lawrence is ripe for an adventure. But when she meets the enigmatic Phineas Stone, over the body of her husband in the mortuary, her world begins to fall apart.
When her late husband’s secrets spill from the grave and her life is threatened by the leader of London’s most notorious gang, Lucy must find the strength to rise to the challenge. But who can she trust and how is she to stay out of the murderous clutches of London’s most dangerous criminal?
No Stone Unturned is currently on pre-order at the special price of 99p/99c
Pam is an Irish writer of historical fiction with a particular love of the late Victorian era and early 20th century. Her debut novel, The Bowes Inheritance, was awarded the B.R.A.G. Medallion; was shortlisted for the Carousel Aware Prize 2016; made ‘Editor’s Choice’ by the Historical Novel Society; long-listed for the Historical Novel Society 2016 Indie Award; and chosen as a Discovered Diamond in February 2017.
Pam is represented by Therese Coen at the Hardman & Swainson Literary Agency, London.
In April 2018, she published a collection of all her short stories, entitled Past Imperfect. With settings as diverse as WW1 era Dublin and a lonely haunted lighthouse, romance, mystery and the supernatural await you.
June 2019, sees the release of No Stone Unturned, the first book in the Lucy Lawrence Mystery series, set in the late Victorian era. Pam is looking forward to sharing Lucy’s many adventures with her readers.
Discover more about Pam and her writing by following the links below:
Marseille, September 1939. War is coming. Nancy Wake is a gregarious twenty-seven-year-old about to marry wealthy French industrialist, Henri Fiocca. When Henri is called to the Front to fight, Nancy, determined to help the war effort, travels to Paris to join the Red Cross as an ambulance driver. Every day she witnesses atrocities. When Paris falls, Nancy flees the German oppressors and returns home to Marseille.
France is a nation defeated; its people are in despair. As Nancy recalls the Germans who whipped Jews on the streets of Vienna a few years earlier, she vows to fight for what is right.
A chance encounter with a British officer draws Nancy into the heart of the Garrow escape network, despite Henri’s reservations. Armed with wealth and charm, she convinces Henri that the Germans will never suspect such a woman. But soon she finds herself caught up in a deadly game of espionage.
As the iron fist of the enemy tightens, neighbours denounce neighbours. No one can be trusted. When the enemy closes in, Nancy and Henri face an impossible choice. Has she done more harm than good?
Based on a true story of love and a gripping adventure, Madame Fiocca weaves an extraordinary tale of survival and redemption in wartime.
My love of military history has led me to the most fascinating discoveries – of people and their stories. Of those, one, in particular, stands out from the crowd.
Serenade To The Big Bird was written by 1st Lt. Bert Stiles, of the United States Air Force. Before this, Bert flew bomber missions as a co-pilot with the 91st Bomb Group and was based in Bassingbourn, England. After completing his tour of duty, he had the opportunity to return to his homeland but he had always wanted to fly fighters and so he requested to do so. He had 35 bomber missions under his belt. Incidentally, Bassingbourn was also home to one of the more famous B-17’s, The Memphis Belle.
Prior to the war, Bert had enjoyed success with his short stories, selling them to various publications. Throughout his war service, he continued to write. His dream of becoming a fighter pilot was finally realised and he began flying missions late 1944.
Tragically, Bert lost his life at the grand age of twenty-four, when on the 26th November 1944 he became a victim of target fixation whilst chasing an FW-190 in his P-51.
This book was published posthumously by Bert’s mother in 1947 and is a collection of his journal entries from his war service. It details his service from the first time he becomes part of a crew right up until their last mission, thus following some of the air war over Europe. However, the way he wrote is so natural and relaxed and very reminiscent of Hemingway.
Bert details life outside of flying, the social side of the air force. He talks about losses, planes and men. He mentions the fact that he finds it difficult keeping the ship in tight formation. He describes flak so thick you could get out and walk on it. It’s rather a warts and all version but without being too gory.
I particularly love one sentence, where he’s just had a gruesome experience. He’s talking about a waist gunner who was killed on a mission. He didn’t know him but he says, “Maybe the guy was a quiet one who taught Sunday-school class, maybe a dreamer waiting for a princess to dance down a moonbeam out of the sky, maybe a drunk.” Such simple words yet powerful and emotive. Bert was poetic, imaginative and an emerging fantastic literary talent.
Stiles is interred in the Ardennes American Cemetery, Neupre, Liege, Belgium. He was awarded the Air Medal (with five oak leaf clusters), the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Purple Heart. His book, Serenade To The Big Bird, is considered a classic among aviation enthusiasts.
So, if you’ve ever wondered what it was really like for those boys, go grab a copy because I’m telling you, it’s fascinating. R.I.P. Bert Stiles. I salute you.
Today please welcome fantastic author Marion Kummerow whose latest novel, War Girl Anna (War Girls Book 3) is now available to buy (released on November 28th, 2017).
Does the Greater Good justify all Sacrifices?
Nurse Anna knows from her own experience that war is an ugly affair.
Working in a Nazi concentration camp, she faces evil every day.
At night, she’s forced to service an SS doctor in other ways.
But just when her fate turns and she leaves the horrors behind, she finds out that human cruelty knows no limit.
Finally pursuing her dream career as biologist, she discovers a ghastly secret the Nazis are hiding from the world.
Looking away won’t appease her conscience.
Not when she’s the one supposed to do their ugly bidding.
Now she faces the hardest choice of all…
And the first chapter:
January 1944, Ravensbrück Germany
Anna buttoned up her blouse, her body aching and her soul weeping. She didn’t dare look at her tormenter – the man who’d viciously violated her, time and again. The sight of his smug expression made her itch to wring his neck with her cold, bare hands and watch his useless life slip from his body. Either that, or vomit all over him.
In her mind she called him T the devil. Every single unfortunate soul in the camp would agree with her verdict that he was the devil incarnate. Doctor Tretter, head physician at the Ravensbrück women’s concentration camp, liked to inflict pain and horror. And he did it with a smile.
Sobs threatened to bubble up, but she swallowed them down. Like she always did when the sheer horror of what her life had become threatened to overwhelm her. She’d struck a bargain with the devil.
And she’d gotten the short end of it. But then again, it really wasn’t a deal at all.
Her body at his beck and call in exchange for her sister’s life.
She summoned the gaunt face of her beloved baby sister Lotte and her emaciated body, skin stretched over protruding bones, and suppressed a sigh. It had been the right thing to do. Lotte wouldn’t have survived the horrors of being a concentration camp inmate much longer. No matter how horrid Anna felt right now, she knew she would make the same bargain again if it meant saving her sister.
Anna would find a way to rescue herself from the clutches of T. One day.
“Nurse Anna,” Doctor Tretter’s nasal voice sent a shiver down her spine. He was finished, wasn’t he?
“Yes, Doctor Tretter?” she said with a weary voice, turning around to face him, because she knew he disliked her not looking into his eyes when he gave her a command. She held his gaze and blanked her obvious hatred for him from her eyes.
His lips curled up. “You look beautiful, Nurse Anna.”
“Thank you,” she managed to say with a subdued voice, casting her eyes downward as if the compliment delighted her.
“You will be the perfect escort for my evening event this coming weekend.” A viselike grip squeezed her heart tight. So far, he’d been adamant in hiding their relationship. Keeping the sordid details of his regular rape of one of his nurses sealed under lock and key. Anna’s cheeks flamed hot at the thought of everyone believing that she actually liked this monster, that her constant capitulation to the head physician of Ravensbrück happened by choice.
“With your perfectly straight blond hair, flawless light complexion, and…” Doctor Tretter took a step towards her and put a finger beneath her chin, which caused her eyes to flutter closed in disgust. “Haven’t I told you to look at me when I talk to you?” His other hand landed on her cheek with a stinging slap.
“Of course you have. I’m sorry, Doctor Tretter. It won’t happen again.”
“Good. Because as I said, you will be my escort for the soirée at Professor Scherer’s house. Do your best to look pleasing and make sure I am not disappointed in your behavior.”
All blood rushed from Anna’s face. Professor Scherer was one of the most renowned scientists in the Reich, a man even Hitler consulted. The head of the medicine and human genetics studies carried out at the prestigious University Clinic Charité in Berlin. His one-of-a-kind human biology work catapulted his research light-years ahead of everyone else’s. She’d followed his work since the moment she had decided to become a biologist one day. Under any other circumstances she would have given her right arm to meet him, but with T the devil by her side?
“You said…you said you didn’t want anyone to know about our…arrangement.” Anna’s voice stumbled.
He looked at her and then smirked. “And nobody will find out. I have a reputation to protect.” His beady eyes roved her body from head to toe as if she were a pesky insect he wanted to stomp on. “What they will see is a grateful nurse who loves spending time with the doctor she so admires for the greatness of his work.”
“You expect me…” Anna felt the bile crawl back up and she took some shallow breaths, hoping he wouldn’t notice her rising panic. “…to tell everyone how much I admire your work?” Work that comprised torturing innocent prisoners with sadistic medical experiments.
“Exactly. I am applying for a professorship at the Charité, and Professor Scherer’s esteem of my person and my scientific research is of the utmost importance. You will gush about my work or face the consequences,” he said with a cruel smile.
Anna knew the consequences all too well. Execution. Or worse, becoming a prisoner in the camp where she worked as nurse. Every day she saw with her own eyes what that fate entailed.
“I will not disappoint you,” she said and turned to leave.
“Wait,” came his sharp voice the moment she put her hand on the door handle. She obediently turned and stared into his grayish-blue eyes. Eyes she longed to scratch out of his face. “Take this, and buy a dress to impress. I don’t want to be seen with you in that dull nurse’s uniform.” He tossed a few clothing ration cards in her direction.
“Thank you,” Anna pressed through tightened lips and bent down to pick them up. She’d just stooped even lower, accepting payment for her services.
Anna clenched her hands into fists as she fled his apartment, running like crazy until she stumbled across the threshold to her own solitary room in the nurses’ dormitory.
Marion Kummerow was born and raised in Germany before she set out to “discover the world” and lived in various countries. In 1999 she returned to Germany and settled down in Munich where she’s now living with her family.
After dipping her toes with non-fiction books, she finally tackled the project dear to her heart. UNRELENTING is the story about her grandparents, who belonged to the German resistance and fought against the Nazi regime.
It’s a book about resilience, love and the courage to stand up and do the right thing. To discover more about Marion and her books visit her blog at kummerow.info or her facebook page at facebook.com/autorinkummerow
Today I’m so pleased to welcome historical fiction author, Anne Allen, whose latest book, The Betrayal, will be released tomorrow, October 20th.
Hello Anne and welcome! Congratulations on the new release! This is a very exciting time for you as you’re launching the sixth book in The Guernsey Novels series and I’m sure you have a number of fans eagerly awaiting the release.
There’s such a lot involved when you’re an Indie author. Can you tell me how you’ve found the publishing process so far?
Let’s say it’s not been easy! When I wrote my first novel 11 years ago, I naively thought I’d find an agent and they would, in turn, magic up a grateful publisher. Some years on and I realised this was not going to happen, in spite of some encouraging words from an agent or two. Fortunately, this coincided with the advent of self-publishing, and I took the plunge and used a service publisher, Matador, to launch ‘Dangerous Waters’ onto the unsuspecting, and probably not very interested, world. Since then I’ve established my own imprint and published another 5 titles. The advantage of going Indie is that I have more control and all of the royalties; the disadvantage is that I have all of the work, and the buck stops with me. But, I carry on, as I enjoy the writing process and there’s nothing quite like seeing the fruit of one’s hard work sitting on shelves in bookstores or lined up virtually on an Amazon page. ☺
I understand completely and I have to agree with you – and it’s definitely a lot of hard work but so rewarding as you say. What inspired you to write this story?
My latest in The Guernsey Novels series is ‘The Betrayal’ and is dual-time, split between the German Occupation of Guernsey in WWII and the present day. Two separate historical facts inspired the story: Renoir’s visit to Guernsey in 1833 when he painted numerous views of Moulin Huet Bay and the forceful deportation of Jews on Guernsey to concentration camps by the Germans.
That’s so fascinating – I love how the art concept captured your imagination and how you weaved it so seamlessly into the story.
Can you tell us a little about The Guernsey Novels?
All the stories take place predominantly on Guernsey and are linked by characters popping up from one book to another. I see them as together offering the ongoing story of a ‘village’ spread, so far, over 6 years. Each book is standalone with fresh new lead characters with their own links to the Occupation years having an impact on the present. A mix of mystery, family drama and love story and influenced by my love of the island where I spent many happy years. Guernsey itself is always a main character in the books, offering a gorgeous backdrop to all the sorrows, joys and tragedies I describe.
Place is such a vital element in a story, evoking mood, tone and memories for instance and it certainly shows that you know this place very well.
Are you a full-time author?
Only in that I don’t have another job! I was a psychotherapist for many years and started writing when I moved back to England and had few clients. For the past 4 years, I’ve decided writing is much more fun than listening to people’s problems every day ☺
Well it sounds as if you had a fascinating previous occupation and I’m sure that’s proved helpful in some ways to your writing.
How do you approach your writing and research? Do you plan strategically or do you wait to see where the muse takes you?
I have to have a plan, even if it’s a little hazy at the beginning. I always know the starting point and where I want to end up, or rather, where I want my characters to end up. My last two books have been dual time, which complicates the planning, but makes it more interesting. Most of my research is focused on the earlier time frame, WWII, as I’m pretty well up on modern Guernsey unless police procedure is involved and then I phone a policeman! I enjoy the research aspect but have been known to get carried away and forget I’m writing a novel which may only need a little background information. Shades of my days as a student studying history!
I empathise over the dual timeline and the difficulties of planning – something I’ve recently discovered for myself.
Have you ever been tempted to write in another genre?
As my books are cross-genre, I feel I’m dipping in and out of different genres anyway. I couldn’t write horror, fantasy or sci-fi, but perhaps one day I might be tempted to try psychological suspense or crime. Having said that, my books are littered with bodies…
What are you working on now?
‘Working’ is probably an overstatement as I’ve only started playing with the overall idea for book 7, ‘The Inheritance’. This will take me into new territory as part of the story will be set in late 19th Century Guernsey, the home of Victor Hugo for 15 years. He actually finished Les Miserables during that time, as well as publishing a number of other works. My character, Eugenie, is employed as his copyist and it’s her story I shall be telling. The other part of the dual time is set in the present and concerns a young woman, Tess, who inherits the house once owned by Eugenie, and goes on to discover family secrets.
That sounds amazing – looking forward to book 7 already.
What’s the hardest part about writing a series?
Not repeating myself! As the books are set in the same location of Guernsey, it’s difficult to find something fresh to say about the island in the present; not so hard when writing about the past. As characters pop in from book to book, I also have to remember what’s happening in their lives – partners, children etc. I really need to set up a spreadsheet!
I know – it’s only when I came to write novels that I discovered how unorganised I am! There’s so much to keep track of.
When you wrote the first book in this series, did you know it was to be a series from the beginning or was this something you realised after completing the book?
It took until the third book, ‘Guernsey Retreat’, to realise this was a ‘proper’ series, as opposed to books set in the same place. At that point I had new covers designed to form a brand, making all the titles instantly recognisable.
I love your brand – it’s something that’s vital, especially if you do write a series.
What part of the research process do you enjoy most?
Talking to people who have the specialised knowledge I can draw on. For example, with ‘The Betrayal’ I had long phone calls with a policeman and a funeral director. Makes for interesting conversations!
Can you tell us your latest news?
I was chuffed when ‘Echoes of Time’, book 5, won The Diamond Book Award 2017, a prize for Indie authors. It was also a finalist in the Readers Favorite Award an international award for all authors.
Congratulations on that news, Anne – that’s so wonderful for you. Thank you so much for chattingwith us today. It’s been a pleasure and I wish you much success with your latest release. All best wishes to you.
Paperback & ebook available to buy from October 20th, 2017:Amazon
Treachery and theft lead to death – and love
1940. Teresa Bichard and her baby are sent by her beloved husband, Leo, to England as the Germans draw closer to Guernsey. Days later they invade…
1942. Leo, of Jewish descent, is betrayed to the Germans and is sent to a concentration camp, never to return.
1945. Teresa returns to find Leo did not survive and the family’s valuable art collection, including a Renoir, is missing. Heartbroken, she returns to England.
2011. Nigel and his twin Fiona, buy a long-established antique shop in Guernsey and during a refit, find a hidden stash of paintings, including what appears to be a Renoir. Days later, Fiona finds Nigel dead, an apparent suicide. Refusing to accept the verdict, a distraught Fiona employs a detective to help her discover the truth…
Searching for the rightful owner of the painting brings Fiona close to someone who opens a chink in her broken heart. Can she answer some crucial questions before laying her brother’s ghost to rest?
Who betrayed Leo?
Who knew about the stolen Renoir?
And are they prepared to kill – again?
I have now enjoyed all of Anne Allen’s novels, and I’m becoming a big fan. She is a very ‘lively’ writer who seems to enjoy giving her readers a wonderful set of characters in a soft, almost velvety setting. Her books also offer a strong historical element, most often World War Two when the Germans invaded the island.
In the sixth novel in the set, Fiona and her twin brother, Nigel, discover hidden artwork in the walls of an antique shop. They attempt to discover whom it belonged to but, when Nigel ‘supposedly’ kills himself, Fiona attempts to discover the truth.
I must say that The Betrayal has a very different feel to it than the other novels in the set. The island is still lovingly described, the characters just as interesting and well developed, but the underlying mystery is so prominent in this story; in fact, in parts, it is almost a thriller. The pacing is faster right from the opening chapter with Teresa and Leo deciding whether to run from the invading Germans or not. And the ending is just as exciting. All in all, totally unputdownable!
To sum up, this is a wonderful novel, with tons of pace where pace is needed, and a setting so lovingly described, it is almost a character in the book. I am happy to recommend this story, in fact, all of them, to anybody who enjoys a well-plotted mystery populated with convincing and always credible characters. ∼A ‘Wishing Shelf’ Book Review.
Source: Advanced reader copy received from publisher.
Having read Anne’s last book, Echoes of Time, I couldn’t wait to read her latest, and I wasn’t disappointed. The novel alternates between WW2 and 2011 and is set on the beautiful island of Guernsey. The Betrayal features twins, Fiona and Nigel, who discover a Renoir within the walls of their antique shop in 2011. When Nigel is found dead, and suicide is suspected, Fiona refuses to believe that her brother would end his own life and she sets out to uncover the truth. Unravelling the mystery will carry her on a journey back to 1940, and to the dark days of the German Occupation and the deportation of Jews.
The story is well crafted with beautiful scenes of the island of Guernsey springing to life and all things WW2 perfectly portrayed. Historical facts are seamlessly interwoven into the story which is well paced with realistic, well-developed characters set within a fascinating plot with twists and turns. All in all, it’s an engrossing read and one that will sweep you away to war, mystery and romance. I can highly recommend it. ∼Review by Suzy Henderson
Anne Allen lives in Devon, by her beloved sea. She has three children, and her daughter and two grandchildren live nearby. Her restless spirit has meant a number of moves which included Spain for a couple of years. The longest stay was in Guernsey for nearly fourteen years after falling in love with the island and the people. She contrived to leave one son behind to ensure a valid reason for frequent returns.
By profession, Anne was a psychotherapist, but long had the itch to write. Now a full-time writer, she has written The Guernsey Novels, five having been published and the sixth, The Betrayal, is due out in October 2017.
For all the latest book and writing news, be sure to follow Anne here:
Today I’m thrilled to announce The Du Lac Princess – a fantastic new release by award-winning author, Mary Anne Yarde, available to buy now. For fans of her series, The Du Lac Chronicles, this latest release is certain to be a hit with new and existing fans alike.
War is coming…
The ink has dried on Amandine’s death warrant. Her crime? She is a du Lac.
All that stands in the way of a grisly death on a pyre is the King of Brittany. However, King Philippe is a fickle friend, and if her death is profitable to him, then she has no doubt that he would light the pyre himself.
Alan, the only man Amandine trusts, has a secret and must make an impossible choice, which could have far-reaching consequences — not only for Amandine, but for the whole of Briton.
“This isn’t a laughing matter,” there was censure in the monk’s words.
“If I don’t laugh then I am going to cry. I have been made to feel like a sinner even though I haven’t sinned, not really. I am a woman without hope and without any friends or family. I have lost everyone I ever loved, and now you tell me that life is going to be difficult. How much more difficult can it get?”
“The Pope has condemned you with Bell, Book and Candle,” Brother Daniel stated. “But that is not all. The Abbot made sure that the Pope was all too aware of your crimes. I am sorry, Amandine, but the Pope will never welcome you back into the Church.”
Amandine gasped, her laughter faded and any colour that was left on her face vanished. “What?” her voice was quiet, barely audible. “But I thought…all the penance. I thought… Tell me it isn’t true.”
“You are damned,” Brother Daniel confirmed. “No one will want you, neither man nor Church. You are completely at the mercy of Philippe. But rest assured, I believe he has every intention of protecting you. I will not lie to you, my dear, you will be shunned, even with the King’s support. The chances of you marrying again are very slim.”
“I wasn’t looking for a new husband,” Amandine said as she tried to make sense of Brother Daniel’s words.
“It also means that you will never be able to leave the protection of the castle. The protection of this room.”
Amandine scoffed with realisation. “I am to be Philippe’s prisoner? Why don’t you just say what you mean?”
“You are not his prisoner, think of it as being his special guest. This is for your own protection. Many would see you hang or worse. I have spoken to the King. Alan will be in charge of your safety from now on. Philippe thought you would find no fault in that, as you and Alan appear to be on good terms. Amandine, you must understand there are many who saw what you did the day Merton died. They saw how you were dressed in his clothes. They saw how you threw yourself at him. How you got down on your knees and begged the King for mercy on Merton’s behalf. They saw how Merton reacted when you were threatened. And those who didn’t will have listened when the Abbot condemned you. You are a fallen woman, a threat to their good Christian souls. Our main concern now is keeping you alive. You must never leave this room. Ever.”
“But I thought—”
“That you were doing penance? So you have said. Did you really think that the Abbot was going to pardon you of all your sins? Oh, Amandine, you are not stupid. He was never going to give you absolution.”
Amandine shook her head, and she began to wring her hands together in despair.
“You must be strong,” Brother Daniel reached across and stilled her hands with his. “And brave. Just like our Lord Jesus was in those darkest of days. Remember, he too was condemned for a crime he did not commit.” He smiled at her and squeezed her hands. “I must leave you now. I shall make sure some food is brought up, but it will be tested before you eat it, so do not fear about being poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Amandine gasped, she had not even thought of that.
“You need to rest and regain your strength.” Brother Daniel rose to his feet and smiled down at her. “I will be back tomorrow to listen to your confession.”
“If I am damned, then what need do I have to confess?” Amandine asked, staring defiantly back at the monk. “Besides,” she looked away, “I consort with demons. I am evil. I am a sinner. My soul will burn in Hell. I will be damned forever—”
“Ask for mercy, and you will receive it,” Brother Daniel stated, interrupting her.
“I have,” Amandine challenged back, “and look where that has got me.”
Mary Anne Yarde is the Award-Winning author of the International Best Selling Series — The Du Lac Chronicles. Set a generation after the fall of King Arthur, The Du Lac Chronicles takes you on a journey through Dark Age Briton and Brittany, where you will meet new friends and terrifying foes. Based on legends and historical fact, The Du Lac Chronicles is a series not to be missed.
Born in Bath, England, Mary Anne Yarde grew up in the southwest of England, surrounded and influenced by centuries of history and mythology. Glastonbury–the fabled Isle of Avalon–was a mere fifteen-minute drive from her home, and tales of King Arthur and his knights were part of her childhood.
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