According to the biographical information in my copy of Susan Hill's Strange Meeting, Hill was only in her twenties when she wrote this story of a deep and intense friendship formed during a war that occurred so many years before she was even born. She had had very romantic notions of this war that her great-uncle had fought in, dying on the Somme on his nineteenth birthday. When she began researching WWI and reading anything she could find about the war, her romantic illusions were quickly dispelled. As a matter of fact she had gotten so deep into her research that she began having nightmares.
I've probably not read widely enough and I'm not sure how accurate is my perception, but it seems WWI was particularly horrific. This is not to say every war hasn't been horrific, but the excessive loss of life during many of the battles where little or no ground was gained makes me think of how futile it was and nothing more than an all out slaughter of young men who were just at the beginning of their lives. Really, a generation of young men was lost. So it was with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity that I began reading Strange Meeting. In some ways the story is reminiscent of Jennifer Johnston's How Many Miles to Babylon?, which I thought was an exceptional read. I'm not sure I could say one book is better than the other, as Strange Meeting, while at times a little painful to read, was so sympathetically and beautifully portrayed. Of course from the first I had in the back of my mind the idea that this was a story that would end tragically, but it made the reading that much more intense.
The story opens with John Hilliard, a battle hardened officer, on leave recovering from a leg wound. He's a reserved, solitary young man who is uncomfortable at home after witnessing the horrors of war. Everything feels strange to him and he finds that he can no longer relate to his family, though they've always been somewhat cool and aloof. The smell of roses makes him particularly queasy and he has trouble sleeping. His once close relationship with his older sister now feels strained as she has announced her engagement to a staid, older man. He no longer seems to have anything in common with anyone, and no one can ever quite understand the things he's seen and endured, so he feels very apart from life in England and can't wait to return to his regiment in France.
When he does return, he finds that there are few familiar faces left, as so many of the men have been killed. He joins his battalion at a rest-stop some twenty miles behind the front line. The officers are quartered in a farm that had previously been shelled. The space is cramped and Hilliard must share a room with another officer who has only just recently arrived in France, a prospect he's not entirely looking forward to. David Barton couldn't be more different than John Hilliard. He's a gregarious, optimistic young man who hadn't really wanted to join the fighting but hadn't really felt any moral reason to defer either, unlike his brother who's a pacifist. In a way he sees it as something exciting and looks forward to getting involved in the action. To the troops who are weary of the fighting he's a breath of fresh air and helps keep the other men going.
Despite the unlikeliness of the two men becoming friends, these are unnatural circumstances, and the more time they pass together the closer they become. Hilliard, normally so introspective and quiet, is drawn out of his shell by Barton, whose friendship is offered so warmly and unselfishly. Raised in a large, close-knit family it's normal for Barton to share his feelings. Whereas Hilliard's letters from home are largely mechanical in feel and tone, Barton includes Hilliard in his letters and his family responds to both young men in kind. Their time in the rest-stop is almost idyllic really, but Hilliard knows it won't last and soon they'll be sent to the front lines, where life takes on a surreal quality. What follows is a loss of innocence. Hilliard knows Barton is unprepared for what is to come. It's almost as if he wants to shield him from the horrors but knows he'll be unable to do so.
I really loved this book. Although this is a war story and you're always aware of the battles playing out in the background, there is also a surprising amount of time spent simply waiting or moving about from place to place or on reconnaissance missions. There is a sense of what it might have been like in the trenches--the ugliness and horror, yet it's also easy to see how deep friendships would have developed as well there being a mood of camaraderie amongst the men. As expected there were difficult moments reading about John Hilliard and David Barton and their troops, but the story ends on an optimistic note that somehow lessens the tragedies that came before. I'm curious now to read Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front, a novel I've somehow managed to not ever pick up. It might be interesting to compare as Remarque fought in the war--so not only written from the German perspective but also by a male author.
Thanks to Caroline who has planned this year long Literature and War Readalong. Do read her thoughts on Strange Meeting here. Next up, I'll have a chance to revisit Jennifer Johnston's How Many Miles to Babylon? later in February.