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By Root 5527 0

his departure, running his fingers through his hair and saying: “Of course, I’m afraid it’s not much fun for you being here...” deaf to his protestations that that wasn’t the reason he was going (although of course, it was), that in the event he found himself hurriedly revising his prepared speech, saying that he was merely going to Dublin for a week and that the reason he was going...He paused in desperation, unable to think of a reason. But at this point a miracle occurred. Edward’s face brightened. Patting the Major on the back he said: “Of course, of course, my dear fellow, I know perfectly well. You want to see the Peace Day parade on the nineteenth; I only wish I could come with you. Love to see it myself, but I’m afraid I can’t leave my post. Will you be marching yourself? No? I hear that French is going to take the salute. He was asked to march with Haig in London but turned them down. That’s the spirit. But look here, I must see if I can wangle you a room in Jury’s. You should get a good view from there. Otherwise you won’t be able to see a thing...” The result was that the Major was thoroughly dissatisfied with himself as he boarded the train that stood hissing in Kilnalough station; he had left himself the cowardly task of explaining by letter that his temporary visit to Dublin had become permanent.

Just before the train pulled out there was a commotion on the platform as a late-arriving passenger scurried out of the ticket office laden with a brief-case and bulging packages, and attended by the station master and a porter. The Major just caught a glimpse of some battered suitcases and the gaunt, wild-eyed face of “the friend of Parnell” as he struggled past the window. But the old fellow clambered into a third-class compartment and the Major saw no more of him. He remembered however, having heard the distant rumble of a violent argument the previous evening as he sat with a lapful of kittens in the Imperial Bar—Edward’s harsh and angry tones filtering through walls and floorboards in the hush of evening. No doubt that was the reason for his departure.

All afternoon the sun shone steadily on lettuce-green leaves. The Major sat beside the open window in a pleasant daze, allowing the wind to ruffle his hair, catching now and then a breath of warm grass or the cool moisture from some bubbling stream. Soon the warmth made him drowsy and his thoughts slipped away into the heart of this golden afternoon. Half asleep, with the sunlight swilling like molten gold on the floor of the compartment, with blue smoke from his pipe swirling here and there in the breeze, he at last allowed himself to relax and felt himself at peace. Presently he knocked out his pipe, put it in his pocket and fell asleep. Slowly the feeling of peace dissolved. Beneath the shadows of his lowered eyelids tattered figures crawled towards him, pallid and speechless, through a desolate countryside.

On Saturday, the day reserved for the celebration of “Peace” throughout the Empire, the streets of Dublin were crowded from an early hour. Over the past three days the Major had seen the grey buildings of the city gradually blossoming into colour as flags were hung from windows and arches of bunting were stretched across the main thorough-fares. Now, in Sackville Street, the Union Jack, the Stars and Stripes, and the Italian flag floated from the ruined walls of the General Post Office; another immense Union Jack flew from the top of Trinity College while from the banks and brokerage houses lining College Green fluttered a thick tapestry of banners. It was here in front of the Bank of Ireland (a number of soldiers were already on duty guarding its roof) that the Viceregal Stand had been set up beneath a red-and-white canopy surrounded by gold-tipped staves. On this platform the Lord Lieutenant, his staff, and various Government officials would presently make their appearance; on the other side of the railings, in the courtyard of the bank, two more wooden platforms had been constructed for the wounded, to allow them an unimpeded view of this historic pageant.