Arctic Summer by Damon Galgut

Arctic Summer by Damon Galgut

Author:Damon Galgut
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Europa
Published: 2014-07-16T16:00:00+00:00


* * *

At work, he was answerable to a Miss Victoria Grant Duff, the head of the Wounded and Missing Department. She was perhaps a decade older than Morgan, and a trifle shrill and nervous, but friendly enough. They had found a common talking point in India, because her father had once been the Governor of Madras. More importantly, though, she felt enthusiastic about his reports. She had called him in after two or three weeks to tell him that London had cabled to say how good they were. “You are by far the best of my searchers,” she announced.

“I am glad to hear it.”

“But don’t tell the others I said so.”

“No, of course not.”

The idea of being the best was amusing, because there were only four searchers in total. One was at the Majestic Hotel, too, where Morgan was living: a fellow named Winstanley, who told him the other searchers did almost no work. The competition couldn’t be described as fierce.

Nevertheless, his position felt secure. He had already been here much longer than he planned to, and had no thought of going anywhere. He could wait out the War on the sidelines, contributing without taking part. So it came as a profound shock when—not long after his meeting with Cavafy—there was a crisis at work that nearly upset everything.

Word came through from higher up that Red Cross workers were required to attest before a military commission. What was wanted was a declaration that every able-bodied man was willing and ready to serve. It wasn’t quite conscription—though that had been introduced in England three months ago—but it was a first step in that direction.

By coming here, Morgan had believed he was leaving this particular quandary behind, but now it had followed him. His own cousin, Gerald Wichelo, had recently declared himself a conscientious objector, and was prepared to go to jail in consequence. Morgan didn’t know if he was quite that committed.

The crisis passed, but not before he found himself in front of Sir Courtauld Thomson, the Chief Red Cross Commissioner, stating his beliefs. This was difficult, because he wasn’t quite sure what they were. Nevertheless, he found himself saying that the idea of killing another human being, whoever it might be, was the most horrible notion he could contemplate. There was nothing religious about this sentiment, he added; the only word he could find for it was “conscience”.

After due consideration, Sir Courtauld told him, “I’m afraid conscientious objectors cannot be considered at all.”

“I see,” Morgan replied. “They don’t exist?”

“That is not what I said.” The face of his superior had grown heavy with blood.

There was every prospect, at this moment, that he would be shipped back to England to face down the issue along with cousin Gerald. But his medical examination, which had first declared him fit for service, now changed its mind. And Miss Grant Duff argued strongly on his behalf, because nobody else would do his job half as well. When the upset finally passed, instead of



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