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The Brightest Star

by Paul Price

288 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0767; ISBN 1-4120-2939-2; US$24.50, C$28.08, EUR20.50, £14.50

Bill's emotive narration of his life's journey includes blind patriotism, loyalty, fear, unerring love and a will to survive. Fighting in a war shapes a life and a soul.


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about the book      about the author      excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book

"Well, you might not know this place but I'm sure you won't forget it. You're off to an area known as The Somme. Now, attention. Left turn. Quick march."

Bill and his childhood mates set out on the biggest adventure of their lives so far when they travel to the local town to sign up for active duty in the First World War. Their ambitions to experience more than their quiet village life and to secure the future of their country leads them into horrors that none of them could ever have envisaged. The novel captures to the full the grim experiences of ordinary, unassuming young men blinded by patriotism.

Bill's emotive and gripping narration carries us from his late teens, as he experiences degradations of trench warfare, through to his sunset years that are wracked with guilt of survival, telling his traumatic and brutal stories with astonishing modesty. We travel with him through his comradeship, combat, fear, fatigue, loneliness, survival and unerring love. Told with incredible feeling, and in a very personal style, The Brightest Star is a fascinating journey through one man's ups and downs. Bill shares his laughter and tragedies, and illustrates how fighting in a war shapes a life and a soul.

This is a moving commemoration and lasting tribute to an incredible people who fought in the "war to end all wars", and who are sadly disappearing over time. Their kind were unique.


About the Author

Paul Price was born and raised in a working class family in Hanley, Stoke-on-Trent. At the age of 15, he left home to become an articled apprentice bricklayer, which ultimately after many years of toil led him to become director of a construction company.

It was only after a period of illness that he became more in touch with his creative side and started writing historical fiction.


Excerpts

As we headed out of town, there was a rumbling that started behind us and was getting louder by the second. None of us knew what it was and it began to sound like something from hell coming up the road for us. Then they came into view.

"Clear the road! Clear the road!" the officers and the NCO shouted. "Stand back or you'll all get crushed."

Then the first of many appeared. Teams of horses with one rider came racing past pulling timbers and field guns. They stopped for no one and scattered all that lay in their path. Sweat was pouring off the horse's backs, their manes were being slashed about like sabers; their breathing was fast and torturous, and they looked just like they were breathing fire out of their huge nostrils, but it was their eyes that gave it away. They were so deep and dark, wild and frightened. I wondered as they all passed, did they know something we didn't? (Page 70)

"You don't want to stay there, lad. Just wait and see," was his reply.

As we got closer, it became clear that it was a large field hospital, as some of the tents had red crosses on the side of them and there was also a makeshift flagpole positioned in the centre of the camp with a red cross fluttering in the breeze. There was an air about the place and although we were still a long way away, the odour lingered and was getting stronger the closer that we got. Then there was the screaming. At first, we thought it was an animal being butchered. Then there were several piercing screams that made your hair stand up on end. The closer that we got, the more we could hear and then we knew for certain that they were not animals. Getting ever closer, you could identify individual voices calling out in desperation for water, doctors, nurses, in fact anyone who could hear them. The cries were pitiful. The screams were unnerving. The sweet, sickly smell, which was now so overpowering hung under our noses, and as we were soon to find out was always around where there was blood and death. (Page 71)

We heard the prisoner before he came into view. I had this vision of him marching up to the post, hands tied around the post, blindfold put on. I never expected the drama that was unfolding in front of me. The sound coming from the far side of the house was like nothing I had ever heard, neither animal nor human. There were piercing, howling screams, then lower whimpers and sobs. Into view came four burly army policemen. They were trying to march in some kind of orderly fashion, but were being pushed and pulled in all directions. They were barely able to restrain their prisoner who continued to resist for all he was worth, until they finally got him to the post. He seemed to calm down a little then and the guards relaxed their grip on him slightly, as they tried to gently manoeuvre him onto the post. He made a last, desperate bid to get away, but the guards still had chains on him and soon wrestled him to the ground. It was at this point that I had my first look at him. He was only small and thin, not very old, maybe nineteen or twenty. He had fair-hair and a pale complexion. I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew what they looked like. (Page 93)

Everyone was going into the church as my bride would soon be here. I heard the distinct sound of the General's carriage approaching, and thought he must be late. I began walking up and down in front of the gate, my nerves starting to get the better of me. The carriage suddenly arrived and drew to a stop outside the church. Caught unawares, it took my breath away. It was decked out with ribbons and flowers, even the horses were decorated. The General was in his best uniform and was climbing down. He went to open the door as I slowly walked towards the carriage, making sure I didn't miss anything. Elizabeth's mother stepped out of the carriage first, then just as I got there, Elizabeth followed her. Words cannot describe how beautiful she looked. I was so taken aback. She was just like a princess. (Page 182)

When we arrived at the hospital the time had come to separate us, but I felt that I really couldn't do it. I'd done it before and never seen my loved ones again. I wasn't going to let them do it with Elizabeth. I put my arms around her chest and refused to move. Whatever happened, I couldn't let her go. Several people tried to talk to me but I never heard what they said. I was dancing with Elizabeth at our wedding. I was anywhere but here like this. (Page 192)


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