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My Name Is Margaret , Scottish War Bride
My Name Is Margaret , Scottish War Bride
My Name Is Margaret , Scottish War Bride
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My Name Is Margaret , Scottish War Bride

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Margaret Macmillan Crocker, a war bride, born one year before the Great Depression of 1929 in the highlands of Scotland. She spent most of her life having and raising her children in the small fishing village of Heart's Delight, a hamlet on the island of Newfoundland, Canada, some 3000 miles from her homeland. Her life ebbed and flowed like the very waters that washed up on the rugged shores of that quiet little settlement. From times of complete ecstasy to near total depression she kept her sanity and fought her way through her life, in the way of her Viking heritage, that demanded strength, courage and determination that could have only been done because of her genetic background. Yes, it was in her genes to demand and fight for her station in life that she deserved in a world that was not always friendly. As you read, you will soon get to love and admire 'Our Margaret'.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateMar 4, 2019
ISBN9780359476435
My Name Is Margaret , Scottish War Bride

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    Book preview

    My Name Is Margaret , Scottish War Bride - Eugene Sooley

    My Name Is Margaret , Scottish War Bride

    My Name Is Margaret, Scottish Highland War Bride

    A close up of text on a white background Description automatically generatedA person wearing a suit and a person posing for a photo Description automatically generated

    Copyright…2019 by Eugene G Sooley

    All rights reserved.

    This book or any portion thereof may not be

    Reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express

    written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief

    quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

    First Printing , March 2019

    ISBN 978-0-359-47643-5

    Publishing Company name…Eugene G. Sooley

    Preface

    A few words on the reason for writing this story. I grew up in a small fishing village on the island of Newfoundland called Heart’s Delight. Two years before I was born there was a lot of commotion on Crocker’s Hill where I was to spend my childhood years. A pretty, shy, Scottish lassie named Margaret, had moved in next door with her new husband, Walter. Being a neighbor and a real good friend of her children in this post war era, I learned a little about this very interesting young lady with the quaint accent. I wondered about her life and how she ended up on this side of the North Atlantic. After all those years from those early days, it was not until about 2 years ago that I got to find out about her life. Thanks to Facebook and being able to communicate so easily with her that I asked her if she would like for me to write a story about her life. She seemed to really like that idea and the process started. Even though she still has a bit of an accent, and an interesting way of describing things, I became totally entranced by her stories and the notes she would send to me about the different situations in her life. I discovered very quickly that she was a remarkable person with a remarkable history. We wrote her story between us. She’d relate to me an incident in her life, I’d write it up and show it to her and she’d ask me to add things to it or change some things. When we had enough information, I put it all together, and checked with her to see if she was happy with it. We ended up with what I think is one of the best stories on war brides ever composed, mainly because of her determination to be ‘herself’ in the world that she found herself thrust into. How could anybody not feel anything but admiration for this lady, Margaret, as you will  see as you start reading about her life… 

    Chapter1     The Wedding

    It was 6 AM. September 14, 1945.  Although it was almost completely dark in my cozy little bedroom I could see from my bed, through the slit where the curtains were not completely closed over my small bedroom window, that daylight was beginning to break. I had hardly slept a wink thinking about my future. Mixed thoughts. Some were with ecstatic joy, others of apprehensive worry and concern.  What would my future be? I had already told Walter I would marry him, but I was having second thoughts. If he would only agree to stay here in Scotland everything would be so perfect. But he wanted so badly to go back home, and I would not deny him. And besides, back in those days a woman's place was with her man and I already knew from the first time I laid my eyes on him that I would follow him, even to the top of Mt Everest if he wanted me to.  Tears of joy, tears of sadness my emotions were running wild. Questions, questions and more questions but it was too late for questions now. Before this day was done I would proudly be calling myself Mrs. Walter Crocker.  Such a nice ring to it, Mrs. Walter Crocker, Mrs. Margaret Crocker, Mrs. Margaret Walter Crocker  I kept toying with the name while rubbing the finger where my wedding band would soon be,  repeating it over and over in my mind so as to dispel the doubt that had been slowly creeping into my soul  and to reassure myself I was doing the right thing.

    The war was now over. The Armistice was signed on August 14 here in Europe and the Japs had finally thrown in the towel and make it official just two weeks ago. The world was at peace at last and regardless of all the death and destruction there was a certain unusual calmness about me and a deep-down feeling of joy and peace in my body that I could hardly ever remember having before the war had started, me being so young back then and the war dragging on for six long years. For God's sake, that was near one-third of my entire life on this planet. No wonder my joy, no wonder my excitement. The war was over, and I was marrying the kindest and sweetest man to walk this earth since Jesus Christ walked here almost two thousand years ago. 

    Get up Margaret, I told myself. This is your day.  It was the day that I had been dreaming of since I first looked into Walter's eyes and kissed him on the cheek a few days after we first met. He was so shy. He smiled, his face turned a crimson red like a sunset sky on an almost clear Autumn day and I could feel his hand shaking nervously even though I held it so tightly. I knew then we were made for each other.

    I remember it so clearly now. I was thinking to myself on my wedding day as I sat there on the edge of my bed in my ever-brightening bedroom, the only good thing about this war was that it had brought Walter here to me. More fate then coincidence, I'm positively sure of that and I knew that we were meant to be.

    The sun had now risen, and it was looking to be a beautiful day for a wedding.  We all sat around the kitchen table for breakfast and went over everything we could think of to be sure everything would go as planned. I felt so honored, so lucky, so like a queen. It was my day and I was the queen on this day.  The reception would be held here later this evening, and all had to be made ready for the guest. In the afternoon we would drive to The Church of Scotland in Laggan for our wedding vows and then back here to my parents’ home for the celebrations.  My father was so proud. He made all the flower arrangements from the flowers from our garden while my mother and friends prepared the feast.  After breakfast, my dad sat down with me at the table and talked to me. he knew I was nervous, he knew I had questions. He told me how proud of me he was and how happy he was I had found such a wonderful man like Walter. Not like that other guy you dated he joked with that impish little smile. Walter was so much like him, perhaps one of the reasons I choose Walter.

    It was now a little into the afternoon and everything had been gone over completely for the second time. Do we have the bouquets?  Do you have the wedding ring where you can find it?

    Make sure your dress fits perfectly and the list went on and on. My mother was a perfectionist.

    She wanted everything just so and she would accept nothing less. And that's the way it was. When I entered the church with my dad holding my hand everyone was waiting in their respective positions. You could hear a pin drop and then the organist started playing. A lump came in my throat and for a second, I couldn't breathe. My father squeezed my hand, leaned over and whispered in my ear, everything will be alright. Walter is a good man. Your mother and I love you very much and he is the right man for you. Truer words were never spoken. His words were like a sedative, like lifting a ton of bricks from my shoulders, and all the fear and stress left me and I was the happiest girl in the world. Walter looked so handsome there in his uniform. Shy, nervous, but so proud I was to be his wife. He looked down at me from the alter step as we walked up the aisle to where he was standing with the rest of the wedding party. He had that

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