Love Never Again

By Wallace Draper and Debra Carpenter

His parents’ tragic deaths consigns an American boy to an orphanage, where his only escape is to join the army. Shipped off to London in 1944, he prevents the suicide of a pregnant young British girl by marrying her on the brink of D-day. Following the horrors of WWII, he returns to his young wife, but she still loves another. Years pass without love or faith, and he is estranged from the boy he raised as his son. The death of his wife and hatred of his son leave him desolate until a mysterious woman changes his life. His lonely existence ends as his faith returns, and love never again becomes love again and again. This is the male version of the novel.

A woman’s version is the second part. A young American soldier marries a pregnant British girl to save her from suicide, then he goes off to war. This story follows each character’s journey through fear, doubt, and the acceptance of their fates through letters to each other while WWII rages in Europe. Reunited after the war ends, these virtual strangers have to discover how to become a family. Through the twists and turns of circumstances, they all discover that faith, love, and forgiveness are the salve that heals broken hearts to make loving again possible.

Love Never Again is really two books in one. The struggles of finding love and keeping one’s faith in God despite the horrors of war and personal loss make this story real, and each version finds resolution in its own way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Sep 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781973630951

Wallace Draper

College professor Wallace Draper has traveled the world, teaching in exotic places, and carried this story in his head for years. His old friend Debra Carpenter is the creative side of the team. They occasionally disagree, and that is how this two-version novel was born.

Book preview

Love

Never

Again

WALLACE DRAPER &

DEBRA CARPENTER

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Copyright © 2018 Wallace Draper & Debra Carpenter.

Interior Image Credit: Herbert Mason, Photographer, The Daily Mail, London (photograph of St.Paul’s Cathedral during the Blitz)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9736-3094-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-3093-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-3095-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018907306

WestBow Press rev. date: 09/14/2018

Contents

Preface

Introduction

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Epilogue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Preface

MUCH OF THE ROMANCE IN THIS NOVEL COMES FROM OBSERVATIONS of happily married couples. My parents were happily married for over fifty years and my wife and I have been married for fifty-seven years. My dad served almost four years in Europe during WWII surviving the hedgerows of Belgium and The Battle of the Bulge. I served almost three years as a paratrooper stationed in Nazi Germany as an occupation soldier. While in Germany, Dad saved the life of a young girl from starvation and disease. During my service and later years of working for the Pentagon, I observed thousands of American soldiers married to foreign women. These women were called war brides. These personal experiences and observations are evident in this novel. This novel was written with a male and female perspective. In essence, it is two novels in one. The first part is the male perspective and there is less description of romantic involvements and more detail on the hero of the novel.

Debra Strouse Carpenter wrote the insight into the feminine aspects of this novel. She wrote the feminine perspective of the novel with more details to the romantic involvement of the hero with various females. Colorful details are provided on various activities and experiences. Even a different ending is provided to the reader in her perspective.

Unbelievable thanks to my wife for her support and editing skills. Timothy, my older son, and Editor of the Illinois State Historical Society Journal was my expert formatter and design editor. Without his expertise, this novel would not have been completed.

Cover design by Debra Strouse Carpenter.

Introduction

SGT. BILL JACKSON WAS TAKING ONE LAST LEISURELY STROLL through the back streets of London in June, 1944. Little did he realize that this stroll would change his life? Preventing a suicide, living five years in a loveless marriage and raising a son who eventually would despise him were only a few of the things that were to shape his life. After a period of poverty and loneliness, his life would change through the efforts of a strange and beautiful woman. It is not a love story between the strange woman and Bill, but her love for people that would bring happiness to all involved. Bill would learn eventually that good things come to good people.

One

SERGEANT BILL JACKSON WAS PLEASED TO HAVE RECEIVED A THREE-day Pass. He had been stationed in London for a short month and had not been able to see much of the city. This soldier, from a small town in Illinois, had never expected to visit a city like London. He had studied London and England in his social studies classes in his public school and had been fascinated with the stories of knights and royalty. He could remember playing with make-believe swords at recess.

Bill liked his visit to Westminster Abbey, where he saw statues and monuments to English statesmen and heroes. He particularly liked the casket of the Black Knight. The statue of John Andre reminded him that we had hanged him as a spy during the Revolutionary War. Bill thought it strange that their hero was that same man.

It was on the evening of June 8, 1944, that Bill strolled back to the London tube to return to his base. He understood that he would be leaving for the continent soon, as D-Day minus 2 meant everyone would leave London for France. So far, his war involvement had been training and preparing. Although he had missed the invasion, he would be leaving for the war any day. He decided to take one last walk over Waterloo Bridge. Since he was from Illinois, he had loved watching the black currents of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. He loved being called a river rat.

As he crossed the bridge, he noticed something on the other side. He did not pay much attention to the distraction until he saw a coat dropped to the floor of the bridge. He saw someone step up and start to climb over the bridge railing and realized the person was trying to jump. He ran and grabbed the person at the last possible moment.

The person screamed, Let me go! Please let me go!

Bill held the person tightly and realized it was a woman. She screamed again, Please let me go! I want to jump!

Bill pulled her from the railing and held her close. She began to sob.

Bill bent down to retrieve her coat, placed it on her shoulders, and led her from the bridge. He pulled her into the nearby Piccadilly Cafe and forced her to sit in a booth.

He ordered two teas and listened to her sob. Her face was encased in her hands on the table. Slowly, she lifted her tear-filled eyes and pleaded with him to let her leave and return to the bridge. Bill simply shook his head.

She placed her face in her hands and sobbed again. Bill lowered her hands, and then he held her hands and gently stroked her arm. When she raised her face a second time, she began to tell him why she did not want to live.

When she had arrived at work that morning, it was a normal day. She stopped thinking about the war as she stocked shelves and waited on customers at her tea counter. During her tea break, she read the London Times newspaper, looked at the list of killed in action, and saw that her fiancé was in the casualty section. He had been killed on D-Day at Sword Beach on the first day of the invasion. She continued her story, saying that on his last leave in April, they had gone to be married, but an air raid had caused the churches to be closed. Since they were to be married the next day, they had stayed in London at the Regent Palace Hotel that night. She had wanted to get married at her dad’s church in Canterbury, but that was not possible. She had slept in the bed and her fiancé had slept in a chair, but later they had slept together.

That morning, her fiancé was recalled to his barracks and they were not able to be married. Today, she had discovered she was pregnant from that April lovemaking.

Bill said, That is not a reason to end your life.

She said that her father was the archbishop of Divine Cathedral in Canterbury and she could not embarrass him. She said that for her entire life she had heard him speak against sex before marriage and the sin of being an unwed mother. She felt that she had no other choice and pleaded with Bill to let her go.

Once again, Bill nodded no. He placed his hand on her cheek, smiled at her, and said, I will marry you.

She continued to plead with him to let her go and then stopped in midsentence. You will marry me?

Bill nodded.

She stared at him in shock. She could only wonder why he was doing such a thing. She tried to pull her hands free, but he would not allow her to do so. She sat in the booth and looked at him. For the first time, she recognized that he was an American soldier. She continued to protest, but he would not release her hands.

He stood, took her hand, and led her to a hotel to spend the night. He was afraid to let her be by herself. They did not speak to each other as they walked to the hotel. Nor did they talk to each other until the next morning. She slept in her clothes on the bed and he slept in his clothes on the floor. Before falling asleep, she wondered if he would try to get into her bed, because after all, he was an American soldier. But he did not.

That morning after a continental breakfast, where she only sipped tea, he took her to St. Paul’s Cathedral and asked the matron to watch his lady friend while he talked to the reverend. He told him the entire story and asked him to marry them. He realized that this was an unusual request, but it was necessary.

The reverend told him all the reasons that such an unusual request was not possible on such a short notice. He cited sections of church law.

Bill simply said, If you do not marry us today, she will commit suicide. Do you want that on your conscience?

Once again, the reverend told him why his request was impossible.

Bill walked to the stained-glass window and pointed to Jesus on the cross and said, What would he tell you to do?

The reverend bowed his head for a few moments, raised his head with tears in his eyes, and nodded.

Bill then mentioned another problem. Not only did they need to be married today, but the marriage certificate had to be postdated to the first of April. The reverend blinked and then nodded.

It was a simple and brief ceremony. When the reverend asked for her name, she said, Colleen Seymour.

After Bill gave his name, they were pronounced man and wife. The reverend refused to accept any pay for the ceremony.

Bill and Colleen left with their marriage certificate.

Bill quickly had to think about what would happen to her if he died in the war. He took her to his army post and signed the necessary documents for her to receive his military allotment. He took her to the Colindale tube stop, shook her hand, and returned to his base. They had not kissed or consummated their marriage. The only thing they had done was exchange addresses. Bill left knowing that she would survive and would not harm the baby. She would return and work at Fortnum and Mason’s Tea Shop as long as possible. Bill would prepare to leave for the continent. Neither one of them thought much about their marriage. After all, it was a marriage of necessity, not of love, and they probably would never see each other again.

After that weekend with Bill, Colleen was in misery. She stayed in bed the remainder of that day and the next day and thought about her love affair with her fiancé, Mark. She was not too emotional as she felt drained of any such feeling. She remembered that during the months after she and Mark had been lovers, she wrote to him as her husband. She hadn’t dated the letters as she did not know how long it would take for it to reach him.

My Dearest Husband,

I commenced to address this letter to my fiancé, but you are much more than that. I cherish the thought of our first meeting and how neither of us knew what to say and you purchased tea and left. You did that so many times before you had the courage to ask me for a date. Later when you asked me to go out with you and we walked to Piccadilly, I was so happy at your request, even though I almost said no. Later when I held your hand, smiled, and walked through the park with you, I knew I was in love. When we went to the cinema and I placed my head on your shoulder, I knew I was deeply in love. I so wanted you to propose, but I thought that the war might prevent you from doing so. I do not care about this war; I am ready to endure the hardship of a long separation because I love you.

I told my flatmate that I am in love and she said it was obvious. Walking to Piccadilly and the parks alone is terrible because I cannot endure taking these walks with anyone else. I sob quietly at the cinema when I think of our touching shoulders and my head resting comfortably on yours. Please keep safe and I will pray for you every day. My life is so incomplete without you. I never dreamed I would have such happiness and I long for your next leave.

Your Darling Colleen

Colleen remembered how anxiously she waited for a reply to her letter. For a while she questioned whether he would write. Katie, her flat mate, told her that she was making even her nervous with her mistakes at the tea counter where they both worked. In a few weeks she received a response.

My Darling Colleen:

I write with trembling hands as I remember our loving embraces and kisses. You are so right; I was too shy and nervous to do anything but purchase tea when I first met you. When I first saw you, I thought you were an angel. I simply walked around the tea shop and stared at you. I saw your counter mate observing me and she just smiled. It seemed all the soldiers were flirting with you, so I knew I did not have a chance, so I stood in line and purchased tea. I was so nervous I almost left my purchased tea on the counter. Weeks that followed were so painful until you agreed to walk to Piccadilly with me and later through the park. When you rested your head on my shoulder at the cinema, I prayed that you would consent to marry me. I considered myself the happiest soldier in London. I do not know what the future will bring, but I pray I will spend it with you. I want us to be together forever and I will write again soon.

Your Loving Husband,

Mark

In early June, she had written a second letter to Mark.

My Dearest Husband:

I miss you so much because I am so lonely without you. I think of you constantly, but I am ashamed when I think of my life when I realize that you are preparing for the invasion. From the truck convoys and the ships in the Channel, I know it must be soon. I think of our last night together and dream of many more such nights. You are my one and only lover and I shall always remember you, my dearest sweetheart. I pray you will be safe and return to me soon. I still walk to Piccadilly and stand in our special place. There are still many couples doing as we did. They seem so happy; yet all realize that soon they may be separated. I have not written Mumzie or Daddy about you because I want you to meet them in person. Air raids are a nightly occurrence and I spend most evenings in the air raid shelter reading your letter. Your letter is so comforting and so personal. I fear my flat mate might see your letter so I keep it carefully hidden. Be careful and safe wherever you are. I will always love you.

Your Dearest Colleen.

Later after he was killed, she knew he had received her letter the morning of June 5, 1945, because of the letter she had received after his death. It gave her comfort to know that he had received it. She would read later in his last letter that June 5 was a busy day as he had heard rumors they were hitting the continent that evening. He would tell her how he loved her letters. She did not receive his last letter until June, 12, 1945.

My Dearest Colleen:

I have read and reread your wonderful letter. When I read your letters, I see your lovely and smiling face. I must confess that on my last night with you, I rubbed my handkerchief on your scarf and I have your lovely perfume scent with me when I sleep. At night I place it on my pillow so you will be with me always. I love you so dearly. I must finish and post this because I may leave for the continent tomorrow.

Your Loving Husband,

Mark

Colleen had gone to work the next morning after leaving Bill and after a sleepless night. Not once did she think of returning to the