The White Cliffs of Dover Page #11

Mother, do you mind very much?

Of course I mind.

When I see that boat go out,

Playing the star-Spangled banner...

No. That's not sporting of me.

I'll stay, Johnny, and like it.

Whatever happens,

we'll face it together.

Your American mother can take it, too.

You bet she can.

I wanted to go home then,

But your father took me by the arm,

Talking the most dreadful nonsense,

Led me up a flight of steps,

over a bridge, across the tracks,

Down the steps that

led to the London train.

I guess you can find the way.

Mother?

Yes, child?

You're the best mother a chap ever had.

Thank you, dear.

So we went home again.

My English son did all those

things that all his sires had done.

No one had taught him,

yet he knew his part.

The land itself was teeter to his heart.

He watched his fields, he

kept his father's place,

A friendly boy with England in his face,

And often when he

walked across our hill,

Betsy went walking,

too, as children will,

To gather flowers

with her homework done,

And so they walked together in the sun.

If they were more than

friends, I never knew,

For a new spirit shaped him as he grew.

There was a different

England in the air.

I liked the girl. They

made a handsome pair.

And so I watched them

and was reconciled.

He was my son, as well

as Englands child.

Eton, then Sandhurst,

And, of course, at last

his father's regiment.

The die was cast.

And then to see in anguish and in doubt

The lights of Europe falter and go out,

And once again the feet of marching men

Drum in the dust and

darkness, once again.

Rumors of battles.

Headlines in the street.

Holland and France.

The desperate retreat.

Our days were busy

with a thousand cares.

Our nights were dark and

quiet with our prayers.

He came from somewhere

in the west that day,

Heading for dover and the waiting ships.

So little time, with

silence on his lips.

I did not see my son as he went through.

I thought him far away.

But Betsy knew.

Have you called your mother?

No. I thought I wouldn't somehow.

Johnny, have we much time?

Not much, Betsy.

Make sure...

the old horseshoe ring.

It brought me luck, Johnny,

But-But

now I-

Do you remember when we were kids

And I used to ride

round, see you on my pony?

Yes. All you ever said was,

"How's the roof, Mrs. Kenney?"

I suppose I did have

it on my mind, rather.

It seemed to need such a lot of mending.

How is it now? Fallen in again?

I'm afraid so.

Oh, Johnny.

Steady.

And so they parted, each to his command.

"The ring," she said

and placed it in his hand

And watched him go,

Then turned to find her train.

She was not there when

John came home again.

One moment.

Come in.

Word's just come in. The

ambulances are leaving the station.

Oh, thank you, Margaret.

I'll be right down.

Ward 4.

Ward 2.

John.

Mother?

This is an emergency. Blood

is coming through the bandage.

Call the doctor's attention to it.

Yes, ma'am.

Ward 3.

How long?

4, perhaps 6 hours.

Hello.

I've been asleep.

How do you feel?

Not-Not bad at all, mother.

Did you guess I was in the show?

Worry?

What do you think?

I guess we're lucky.

You know, mother, I

wasn't afraid, really.

I know.

That-That bird...

what, dear?

The bird kept going round and round.

Where, dear?

There was a little bandstand.

At first, it seemed like any

other misty morning in summer-

Quiet...

and the air smelled sweet.

Suddenly, everything broke loose.

The Canadians fought their way ashore.

We were among them.

I:

- I don't remember how I got there,

But I was in a shell hole

with a Canadian and American.

The Canadian was dead.

The American boy was

wounded pretty badly.

Only his eyes seemed to be alive.

We lay there with the shells

screaming over our heads,

Watching that bird spinning insanely

Over what used to be

that gay little bandstand.

Mother, do you know Dieppe?

Yes. I

- I was there once with your father.

You remember that bandstand?

Yes.

I remember it very well.

Hello. What's this?

A little nourishment.

There's a parade

coming past the hospital

In a little while.

Some of those new American

units, they tell me,

Along with our own boys.

Would you wheel me to the window

When they come?

Of course.

Thanks.

Don't try to talk, darling.

That chap... that American...

yes?

He said he'd really start to fight

The day war ended...

for a good peace, a peace that'd stick.

He said that god would never forgive us,

Neither England nor America,

If we break the faith

with our dead again.

Write his mother a nice letter.

Tell her that...

oh, well, you'll think of something.

I say, shouldn't you be busy somewhere?

I'm all right, you know, really.

I know you are,

But you must rest now.

In a minute.

Good night, mother.

Thanks.

Good night, my darling boy,

And god bless you.

You, too, mother.

Here you are, mother.

They're coming...

some of your Americans.

Yes, darling. I saw them

when they came 25 years ago.

So did you.

You were 3 months old.

I held you in my arms,

and we saw them together.

Now we can see them again.

Tell me how they look, mother.

Tell me how they march.

Can you see them yet?

Yes, John, I see them,

Your people and my people.

Only their uniforms are different.

How well they march, John.

How well they march together.

Tell me more, mother.

There's a look of greatness about them,

All the strong young boys,

Beautiful and proud with dreams.

Just like you, John.

They'll help bring peace again,

And as your friend said,

a peace that will stick.

You know, John...

we must never forget

What that American boy said to you.

God will never forgive us

If we break the faith

with our dead again.

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