The Fate of Generations

R. J. Thomas' story of an American war correspondent's adventures in England during the London Blitz.

Paperback 140 pages $11.95 plus $2.95 S/H

DESCRIPTION:

"The Fate of Generations" is the story of Hitler's war on Britain as seen through the eyes of Roger Collins, a New York-based wire service reporter who, literally on the flip of a coin, finds himself in England during the German Blitz of London. In October of 1940, as Britain stands strong against the terror of Nazi air attack, Collins gets a first-hand view of the English people --- the servicemen, the civilians, and the volunteers alike. Along the way, he meets an eccentric cast of characters who display a colorful mix of courage, fear, humor, and indifference in the face of nightly raids on their fair city.

Collins also meets and becomes enchanted with Teresa Hutchinson, a talented stage actress who, unfortunately for Collins, is engaged to one of his longtime friends. Two years earlier, Teresa had appeared in a hit play in London which had played at a prominent theater, the Regal-Woodsworth, before the likes of Winston Churchill. When the Blitz begins, the theater is destroyed, but Teresa wants to go back and see if there is anything left of the place she has such fond memories of. Collins agrees to take her, and their journey to the Regal-Woodsworth, and the adventures the trip leads them into, is the heart of the novel.

EXCERPT:

They headed for London. When they reached the edge of the city, they saw a large bomb, unexploded, sitting in a vacant lot.

"A new monument?" Collins asked.

"Look at that," Borden said. "The Germans invented at least one thing that didn't work."

"They're not going to just leave it there, are they?"

"No. The bomb squad will dismantle it or take it away."

A group of teenaged boys saw the bomb and walked over to it, looking very curious. Two of the boys climbed up on top of it and bgean jumping up and down, showing off to the others.

Collins and Borden got out of the car and ran over to them.

"Boys, get down!" Borden cried.

"Who's going to make us?" one boy asked.

"We are," Collins said.

"Do you boys want to be blown sky high?" Borden asked.

"Calm down, chaps," the boy said. "This one is a dud, it is."

"We don't know that for sure," Borden replied. "This thing could go off at any moment. We've got to alert the bomb squad."

"Oh, get off of it, governor," the boy said.

"Yeah," another boy said. "This one is just a dud." He started to give the bomb a good, swift kick until Borden grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Rude fellow, aren't you?" Borden asked. "Well, I don't want to be digging your grave tomorrow, so leave this alone!"

"All of you, get lost!" Collins cried.

The boys started to leave the lot, murmuring under their breath, and, when they got to the street, one boy picked up a rock and hurled it in the direction of the bomb. The reporters watched with some alarm as the rock spun through the air, eventually landing about three feet in front of its' original destination. The boys laughed and ran off.

"Kids!" Borden cried. "They just don'ty understand!"

The men went back to the car and got in.

Borden's face whitened. "My ring!"

"What?"

"My ring! It's gone! Slipped of my finger and I didn't even realize it. It must have slipped off when I was wrestling with that stubborn youth." He got out of the car and walked across the lot, eyeing the ground very closely as he walked. The a look of fear gripped him. "Roger!"

Collins got out of the car and walked over to Borden. "What is it?"

Borden pointed at the bomb. Collins looked at it and saw the ring sitting right on top of it, almost perfectly centered.

"Of all things," Borden said.

Collins laughed. "If the Germans can have you, they'll take your ring."

"I've got to get it."

Collins shook his head slowly. "I don't know. If that thing blows, I'd hate to have to tell the others that you're dead over a dime store ring."

Borden looked indignant. "Dime store ring? I'll have you know, Mr. Collins, that ring is priceless. My mother gave it to me. I can't lose it."

Borden approached the bomb as slowly and carefully as a man walking a tightrope between two fifteen-story buildings. "If those boys can stomp on it, certainly I can pick up a ring without it going off." He reached the bomb and leaned over very carefully and picked up the ring. He started to back up slowly, but stumbled and dropped the ring. It fell down on to the bomb, making a "clink" sound as it hit, and then fell to the ground. Borden closed his eyes for a moment and caught his breath. The he leaned over and picked up the ring and backed away.

When he reached the car, Borden pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his face. "I think my mother would have understood if I hadn't retrieved the ring."

Collins laughed. "I hope so."

"Blasted kids! They could have been responsible for blowing me to bits!"

"If you were sixteen and a bomb was sitting there, what would you have done?" Collins asked.

Borden thought for a moment. "Probably the exact same thing."

"Me, too."

Then both men laughed as Borden drove the car away.