Embrace of the Rose
by Pat Murphy

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The Embrace of the Rose is the story of a family growing up in rural Ireland following the seismic events of the Great War and the 1916 Dublin uprising. When hostilities ceased victors and the vanquished signed a treaty. The Treaty of Versailles was meant to usher in peace and reconciliation but instead sowed the seeds of its successor, World War II. When Germany invaded Poland the nations of the world returned to the battlefield. Living as part of a remote farming community the Megan family worked their land and had little time left to concern themselves with events occurring far beyond their horizon. As they laboured in their fields the world dragged its way from crisis to chaos without mention or reference to them. Their story is a tale of romance, action and intrigue that begins when a stranger knocks on the door of their family cottage. From then on life as they knew it changed forever. Pitched into a conflict without choice or consent they live through their ordeal and emerged with the scars of encounter and a desire to see justice done.

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As a boy living through round the clock bombing of London during the Blitz and waking to the sound of an incendiary bomb crashing through the roof of our house left an impression. Also witnessing from a village green the progress of a Battle of Britain dogfight is hard to forget. Being one of many thousands of evacuee children taking part in a mass exodus from the towns and villages of a country under threat of invasion has never left me. My recollections of those days, a lifelong interest in military history and two years spent in the British army has equipped me with a detailed knowledge of the routines and practices of the armed services. Suffice to say on such subjects my personal experience has helped in the writing of this book, but the text of my novel is entirely a work of fiction as are the characters a product of my imagination. Writing about the activities of republican and paramilitary groups of Ireland, I am reminded of the 1955 IRA raid on Arborfield Depot in England. When ordered to secure the windows of our barrack-room we were asked if there were any of us Irish? Surrounded by a circle of pointing fingers it seemed my birth certificate was in need of correction and if you had an Irish name you had to be from the Emerald Isle. Having never belonged to a clandestine organization I was taken by surprise when questioned on the night of the raid. However, little time was spent on quizzing me before I returned to the spit and polish routines required to turn civilians into soldiers.

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Contributors

Author

Pat Murphy

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