Henry Williamson A FOX UNDER MY CLOAK YPRES Battle of Loos 1955 First Edition

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Vendeur: dilapsus (6.679) 100%, Lieu où se trouve: Flamborough, Bridlington, Lieu de livraison: Americas, Europe, Asia, AU, Numéro de l'objet: 122143674781 A Fox Under My Cloak by Henry Williamson This is the 1955 First Edition Front cover and spine Further images of this book are shown below Publisher and place of publication Dimensions in inches (to the nearest quarter-inch) London: Macdonald & Co. Ltd 5¼ inches wide x 8 inches tall Edition Length November 1955 First Edition 415 pages Condition of covers Internal condition Original cloth blocked in red. The covers are rubbed but still quite fresh. The spine ends and corners are bumped. There are no internal markings and the text is clean throughout with the single exception of a printer's error on page 350 (a small black mark in the text - please see the image below - which I believe is common to all First Editions). There is offsetting to the end-papers from the dust-jacket. The edge of the text block is foxed. Dust-jacket present? Other comments Yes: however, the dust-jacket is stained, torn and discoloured with the top quarter of the spine panel missing and a tear along the front spine gutter at the tail. The images give a good indication of the current state of the dust-jacket. Internally clean, though with some edge-foxing, in a torn dust-jacket with some loss to the spine panel. Illustrations, maps, etc Contents No illustrations are called for Please see below for details Post & shipping information Payment options The packed weight is approximately 600 grams. Full shipping/postage information is provided in a panel at the end of this listing. Payment options : UK buyers: cheque (in GBP), debit card, credit card (Visa, MasterCard but not Amex), PayPal International buyers: credit card (Visa, MasterCard but not Amex), PayPal Full payment information is provided in a panel at the end of this listing. A Fox Under My Cloak Contents Part One “Leytonstone Louts” 1. Into The Line 2. Reality And Appearances 3. Heilige Nacht 4. A Bicycle Ride 5. The Diehard T-Trench 6. Hospital 7. Homecoming 8. Tension Part Two Temporary Gentleman 9. In Clover 10. "Helena" I I. Life Is Fun 12. Life Is A Spree 13. Lusitania 14. Spree (Continued) 15. Spree (Continued) 16. Endless Possibilities Part Three The Battle of Loos 17. The Cockerel 18. A Cushy Job 19. Y/Z Night 20. Y/Z Night (Continued) 21. Lone Tree 22. "A Bit Of Fat" 23. Historical Perspective 24. "Crasher" & Co. 25. Friendly Faces 26. "Twinkle" Proposes 27. Climax 28. Anti-Climax 29. London, S.E. 30. Zeppelin A Fox Under My Cloak Into The Line In the first week of December 1914 the King Emperor George V arrived at St. Omer in Northern France, headquarters of the British Expeditionary Force. Orders were given immediately to all units, in rest and refitting after the battle of Ypres, to prepare for a Royal inspection. Among them was a territorial battalion, the London Highlanders. Boots and short puttees had already replaced worn-out shoes and spats in which members of the original battalion had left England nearly three months previously; but only in some cases had new rifles been issued in place of those defective Mark I Lee-Enfields which, in action, had been used as single-loaders with the new, pointed ammunition. That was in the past, a memory of Hallo'e'en and the fighting beside the Menin road. New faces, inter-company football matches, parcels and letters from home, estaminet nights, had reduced the war to a rumour beyond the eastern horizon of flat, tree-lined arable fields gleaming with wintry water in cart-rut and furrow. The day before the King was to arrive there was a battalion route march led by pipers along dull pave roads leading to nowhere and back again, before dismissal by the new Commanding Officer, a regular soldier from the Coldstream, for the great clean-up. His Britannic Majesty in the service uniform of a Field-Marshal, brown-gloved, brown-booted with gold spurs, brown-bearded, pouches prominent under blue eyes, passed with Field-Marshal Sir John French, Aides-de-camp, and various General Staff Officers down the ranks of silent, staring-ahead, depersonalised faces of No. 1 Company, in whose ranks, one of the survivors of Messines and Ypres, stood Phillip Maddison, thinking that the gruff" tones in which the King spoke to Sir John French and the Colonel were of that other world infinitely far away from what really happened. Behind the King walked the Prince of Wales, seeming somehow detached from the massive power of red and gold, the big moustaches and faces and belts and boots and spurs all so shining and immaculate between the open ranks of the troops in kilts of hodden grey. The slight figure of the Prince, in the uniform of the Grenadiers, appeared to be looking for something beyond the immediate scene—a small white-faced boy in the shadow of Father. The London Highlanders were looking forward to spending Christmas in billets. The battalion was still 500 under strength, having received a draft of only 300 officers and men to replace the wastage of fourteen days of fighting. There was to be a Christmas tree, and company dinners with turkey and plum pudding. Football teams were practising daily; and a match was being played between No. 1 and No. 3 Companies in a field outside the town when a motor-cycle dispatch-rider arrived with a message for the Adjutant. Many eyes watched him open and read it, and pass it to the Colonel. Immediately the match was stopped. Laughing talk and banter behind the goal-posts ceased. Everyone back to billets immediately; the battalion had orders to move at once. The misty dampness of the December afternoon seemed suddenly to be hanging chill. Nobody took a last kick at the football. It was picked up, by orders of the regimental sergeant-major, and carried off the field. Feelings of dread—thoughts of imminent dereliction in cold and wet, and worse, of sleeplessness—possessed the survivors of the recent battles walking to their billets among the slightly excited and inexperienced men of the new draft. Phillip Maddison, accompanied by four of the new draft in his billet in the Rue de Calais, walked in silence among them, all in step with him, kilts swinging in unison. He was thinking what a fool he had been for not having applied, during the four weeks the battalion had been out at rest, to join the transport. What more wonderful life could there be, with just enough excitement near the front line at night to give the feeling that one was really in the war—unlike the base-wallahs of the A.S.C., the Ordnance Corps, and others too far back to see the flares over the battlefield at night? He envied the transport drivers, not so much for the safety of their jobs—the horse wagons taking up rations and ammunition stopped at least half a mile from the firing line—but because they could sleep after their work was done, in hay or straw in a barn, out of the rain and mud. For Phillip the terror of battle, of attacking into the loud cracking of bullets fired from a few hundred yards away, from behind uncut barbed-wire, was the same terror of having to face cane-strokes at school in the past: when it was over, it was over; but sleeplessness at night, without shelter in rain and frost, life achingly unendurable from one long hopeless moment to another in chilly darkness, was the worse thing. Oh, to be with the transport—the excitement of bringing up rations and letters at night to the battalion dump, handing over the 20 per cent over-proof rum in earthenware jars, ammunition and rolls of barbed-wire—then round went the horses' heads, back jolted the four-wheeled wagons, faster than they had come because the horses were thinking of nose-bags of oats awaiting them in stable or on picket-line, the drivers thinking of hot tea or soup, of snuggling into dry straw under a roof. Oh, why had he not applied, when the remnants of the battalion had first come out to rest, for a transfer? Several of the Bleak Hill chaps—including cousin Bertie, the transport sergeant— were then going back to England, to take up commissions, and there had been vacancies. Some had been filled from the new draft. What an idiot he had been, deciding to stay in the company, to be with the four new fellows with whom he had chummed up! They had attached themselves to him, marvelling at the horizontal bullet-rip across his greatcoat, souvenir of sentry-go in Bellewaarde Wood in early November. One of the four, Glass, had actually asked him for tips of what to avoid doing in a battle! Phillip had pronounced the old soldier's philosophy. "If your number is already scratched on a bullet, or your name painted on a shell, then it will find you. There's nothing you can do about it." And later, one particularly cheery evening, "Keep by me when we go in, it isn't so bad, really." This was after several rounds of cafi-rhum in the Au Rossignol, when he was thinking of the way the bearded Grenadier Guards had looked after them when they had first gone into the Brown Wood line. Cranmer! He drank a toast to Cranmer, his eyes averted from the others. Cranmer, a Boy Scout with him in the Bloodhound patrol—those faraway days of cricketing hats and linen haversacks dyed in tea to look like khaki, of twopenny broomsticks and little pewter bugle, of scrapping between rival patrols and troops, Boer War tents of rotten canvas, and black-smelling wooden water-bottles! In the billet there were three members of the original battalion, including Phillip, and nine of the new draft, mucking-in together —sharing food-parcels and rations at one table. Now the problem was what to take, and what to abandon—cakes, pots of jam, sardines, boxes of sweet biscuits, even the best part of a tinned ham. The men of the new draft spoke quietly among themselves ; but the three survivors of the old battalion were, in different ways, visibly agitated. Lance-corporal Collins, with sour face, was swearing as he threw aside one thing after another, muttering about the balls-up of Christmas; Church had a sardonic, to-hell-with-everything expression on his face; Phillip felt that his life was shattered, or on the point of being shattered, as he failed again and again to decide which of his mother's gifts he must leave behind, and so forsake and abandon part of her gentle face regarding him. The effect was one of irritability. Why had she sent such silly things, like that bottle of linctus? And the red flannel chest-protector, gift from Gran'pa? Even so, he was deeply attached to, or loyal to, all thoughts from home which had prompted the sending—both had come from the old life that was now lost for ever. What about the linctus? He could see Mother buying the bottle at Leo the chemist's in the High Road, Leo's own special recipe. Every winter since he was little, especially when the yellow fogs had come before the frosts, Mother had given him teaspoonfuls of syrupy, sweet linctus to guard against a return of childhood croup. How could he betray her loving care? Or her cakes? Or any of the pairs of socks (not sox, as she spelled the word) she had knitted for him? Then there were the two woollen scarves, the two cholera or body belts, the woollen cardigan (worn with the chest protector, it made his tunic tight), the two pairs of woollen gloves, half a dozen tins of cocoa and cafe-au-lait, thick bars of chocolate, two extra shirts, a dozen boxes of matches, a pork pie, almonds and raisins-The door opened. The company sergeant-major, no longer "Colours" of easy Bleak Hill days, stood there. Quietly he said, "Company parade outside in twenty minutes' time." When the door was shut again, Phillip, while knowing that he was showing his own weakness, appealed to Lance-corporal Collins, despite Collins's dislike of him. "I suppose you don't know where I can get a sandbag, Corporal, by any chance, to pack my extra clobber in?" "If you weren't so bloody selfish, you'd have given some of that stuff to the Brigade Fund, when you had the chance," replied Lance-corporal Collins. "I saw that they already had two G.S. wagon loads of our casualties' parcels, Corporal." "Yes, and a fat lot you added to them," said Church, a crony of Collins's. "Well, I was still alive." The appeal for comforts had been made by Captain Ogilby when it was thought that the Brigade would be spending Christmas out at rest. Many of their comrades in the regular battalions of the Brigade, he said, had people at home who were not always in the position to send out parcels of food and clothing. Anything that could be spared, therefore, by the men of the London Highlanders would be most welcome among the splendid fellows whom they had lately had the honour of supporting in battle. To the appeal Phillip had given a tin of French sardines and a large slab of Chocolat Menier, which he had bought for himself in a magasin, but found too coarse to his taste, together with a tin box of Brand's Meat Essence tablets sent by his father. This apparent stinginess at the time had caused Collins and Church to exchange slow and scornful winks: they had not forgiven Phillip for a thoughtless or rude term applied to them when they had occupied the next tent in the company lines at Bleak Hill, in the heather of Ashdown Forest during those far-away August days which by now seemed so idyllic—"the Leytonstone Louts ". As the other men of the billet thrust what they could into pack and haversack, Phillip stood indecisive, the thin wire of frustration drawing his entrails . . . A Fox Under My Cloak From the dust-jacket: The theme of this fine historical novel of England and the battlefields of France during the Great War is fear and the quest for courage. The story is seen mainly through the eyes of Phillip Maddison who, having fought through the Battle of Ypres as a private soldier, is terrified of going into action again. While home in England on sick leave, he obtains his commission; and as a very junior subaltern he is posted to a fashionable "county" regiment of pre-war territorials stationed in Suffolk. Here the former junior clerk from suburbia finds himself an outsider, constantly being ragged and snubbed for his gaucheries. He is the "temporary gentleman" in uniform— yet the only officer in the "Cantuvel-launians " who has learned to fight before he has learned to shave. At length, he volunteers to return to the front; and as the novel reaches its climax in the Battle of Loos, so Phillip rises for a while from his fearful self. The battle scenes in A Fox Under My Cloak are described with tremendous power and realism; all the more striking by contrast with the scenes of life at home as seen through the eyes of other members of Phillip's family. The book contains much, however, that is in lighter vein; the account of Phillip's interlude in training in an English country town is especially full of brilliant and amusing impressions of a vanishing world of leisurely "good form". Henry Williamson has waited many years to write this novel. "A Fox Under My Cloak," he says, " is not only the soldier's world. It was written, after much research among archives and upon the scene of the battle near Bethune, as part of the tragedy of European man, divided against himself. It was written with love for all remembered faces of nearly forty years ago. There are no villains in the story—only human beings." AUTHOR'S NOTE AND DEDICATION Many of the scenes in this novel are authentic, including those which are based on incidents recorded in the Official History of the Great War, Military Operations, compiled by Brigadier-General J. E. Edmonds, G.B., C.M.G., R.E. (retired), and Captain G. G. Wynne, The King's Own Yorkshire Light Infantry— to whom grateful acknowledgement is hereby made. Each of the characters in this novel had an existence in the 1914-18 war, though not all necessarily acted or played their parts in the times and places mentioned in the story. In particular, the author dedicates this volume to CAPTAIN DOUGLAS BELL, M.C. his old school-fellow and comrade-in-arms, wounded at Lone Tree during the battle of Loos, 1915. Please note: to avoid opening the book out, with the risk of damaging the spine, some of the pages were slightly raised on the inner edge when being scanned, which has resulted in some blurring to the text and a shadow on the inside edge of the final images. Colour reproduction is shown as accurately as possible but please be aware that some colours are difficult to scan and may result in a slight variation from the colour shown below to the actual colour. In line with eBay guidelines on picture sizes, some of the illustrations may be shown enlarged for greater detail and clarity. IMPORTANT INFORMATION FOR PROSPECTIVE BIDDERS U.K. buyers: To estimate the “packed weight” each book is first weighed and then an additional amount of 150 grams is added to allow for the packaging material (all books are securely wrapped and posted in a cardboard book-mailer). The weight of the book and packaging is then rounded up to the nearest hundred grams to arrive at the postage figure. I make no charge for packaging materials and do not seek to profit from postage and packaging. Postage can be combined for multiple purchases. Packed weight of this item : approximately 800 grams Postage and payment options to U.K. addresses: Details of the various postage options (for example, First Class, First Class Recorded, Second Class and/or Parcel Post if the item is heavy) can be obtained by selecting the “Postage and payments” option at the head of this listing (above). Payment can be made by: debit card, credit card (Visa or MasterCard, but not Amex), cheque (payable to "G Miller", please), or PayPal. Please contact me with name, address and payment details within seven days of the end of the auction; otherwise I reserve the right to cancel the auction and re-list the item. Finally, this should be an enjoyable experience for both the buyer and seller and I hope you will find me very easy to deal with. If you have a question or query about any aspect (postage, payment, delivery options and so on), please do not hesitate to contact me, using the contact details provided at the end of this listing. International buyers: To estimate the “packed weight” each book is first weighed and then an additional amount of 150 grams is added to allow for the packaging material (all books are securely wrapped and posted in a cardboard book-mailer). The weight of the book and packaging is then rounded up to the nearest hundred grams to arrive at the shipping figure. I make no charge for packaging materials and do not seek to profit from shipping and handling. Shipping can usually be combined for multiple purchases (to a maximum of 5 kilograms in any one parcel with the exception of Canada, where the limit is 2 kilograms). Packed weight of this item : approximately 800 grams International Shipping options: Details of the postage options to various countries (via Air Mail) can be obtained by selecting the “Postage and payments” option at the head of this listing (above) and then selecting your country of residence from the drop-down list. For destinations not shown or other requirements, please contact me before bidding. Tracked and "Signed For" services are also available if required, but at an additional charge to that shown on the Postage and payments page, which is for ordinary uninsured Air Mail delivery. Due to the extreme length of time now taken for deliveries, surface mail is no longer a viable option and I am unable to offer it even in the case of heavy items. I am afraid that I cannot make any exceptions to this rule. Payment options for international buyers: Payment can be made by: credit card (Visa or MasterCard, but not Amex) or PayPal. I can also accept a cheque in GBP [British Pounds Sterling] but only if drawn on a major British bank. Regretfully, due to extremely high conversion charges, I CANNOT accept foreign currency : all payments must be made in GBP [British Pounds Sterling]. This can be accomplished easily using a credit card, which I am able to accept as I have a separate, well-established business, or PayPal. Please contact me with your name and address and payment details within seven days of the end of the auction; otherwise I reserve the right to cancel the auction and re-list the item. Finally, this should be an enjoyable experience for both the buyer and seller and I hope you will find me very easy to deal with. If you have a question or query about any aspect (shipping, payment, delivery options and so on), please do not hesitate to contact me, using the contact details provided at the end of this listing. Prospective international buyers should ensure that they are able to provide credit card details or pay by PayPal within 7 days from the end of the auction (or inform me that they will be sending a cheque in GBP drawn on a major British bank). Thank you. (please note that the book shown is for illustrative purposes only and forms no part of this auction) Book dimensions are given in inches, to the nearest quarter-inch, in the format width x height. Please note that, to differentiate them from soft-covers and paperbacks, modern hardbacks are still invariably described as being ‘cloth’ when they are, in fact, predominantly bound in paper-covered boards pressed to resemble cloth. Fine Books for Fine Minds I value your custom (and my feedback rating) but I am also a bibliophile : I want books to arrive in the same condition in which they were dispatched. For this reason, all books are securely wrapped in tissue and a protective covering and are then posted in a cardboard container. If any book is significantly not as described, I will offer a full refund. Unless the size of the book precludes this, hardback books with a dust-jacket are usually provided with a clear film protective cover, while hardback books without a dust-jacket are usually provided with a rigid clear cover. The Royal Mail, in my experience, offers an excellent service, but things can occasionally go wrong. However, I believe it is my responsibility to guarantee delivery. If any book is lost or damaged in transit, I will offer a full refund. Thank you for looking. Please also view my other listings for a range of interesting books and feel free to contact me if you require any additional information Design and content © Geoffrey Miller Condition: A detailed description of this item's current condition is given in the listing below but please do not hesitate to contact me (gm@flamboroughmanor.co.uk) if you require any further information., Fiction Subject: War Fiction, Binding: Hardback, Year Printed: 1955, Author: Henry Williamson, Language: English, Place of Publication: London, Special Attributes: First Edition, Publisher: Macdonald & Co. Ltd

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