The Long Tail of Trauma by Elizabeth Wilcox

Author:Elizabeth Wilcox
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Green Writers Press
Published: 2020-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

GEORGE

YMUIDEN, HOLLAND, 1940

“Hull Man Was in Mined Ship Now in England—But Wife Left in Holland”

“The Cusworths of Hull are still dogged by danger. Last night, the “Mail” told of how Mrs Violet Cusworth, wife of Mr G.E. Cusworth, the Hull accountant, had been aboard a mined ship, which was just leaving Holland. It was reported that she had been saved. To-day the “Mail” was told that Mrs Cusworth is back in hospital in Holland. Mr Cusworth and the children are in England, after escaping from the same sea disaster. Now, after lying desperately ill for weeks with a fractured skull, Mrs Cusworth is thrust back into a grave condition by the combined horrors of bombing and terror at sea.

At Ramsgate

Mr Cusworth, torn between loyalties to his wife and children, wanted to stay with his wife, but the authorities persuaded him to take what remained of available transport and bring his children home. Mrs Cusworth, senr., of Heathcote Street, Hull, told a reporter to-day: “My son telephoned me last night from a Ramsgate hotel. All four of them were on the mined ship. His wife was on a stretcher and they had to take her back. My son wanted to wait a day, to see if she could come, too.”

“Terrible Air Raids”

“‘You have your children to consider,’ they said. So he came. All their possessions have gone down [with] the ship, except for a few things the people gave them. My son is just heartbroken. “He doesn’t know what to do. His mind is still dazed by the horror. He hesitates to bring his kiddies up here because of the danger, and is considering going into Devonshire. “They have been in some terrible air raids…. Nine and 10 a day, he said. That is what upset his wife.”40

George was standing on the deck of the ship, his children with him as he ushered passengers on board, his free palm pushing air. Go right back, he motioned as the approved passengers hurried past, silently obeying, their feet shuffling to the quarters below, having ascended the gangway. He had offered to stand here, to help load. Three stewards guarded the other end of the gangway, matching names to a list, a human gate that opened just wide enough for the approved, impassable for the rest. Watching, for George, was a penance of pride—so many having been turned away, his wife among them.

George reminded himself that this was not his fault. Because of him, forty-two Van Rensselaer survivors had secured passage on this ship. It had all happened so fast. Only a day prior, a soldier had directed George to the captain of the Dutch steamer Johan de Witt. On his way to the captain, he had come across the group of Van Rensselaer survivors. George had felt a certain responsibility toward them, having helped organize their failed passage. Some, too shaken by the sunken ship, had gone home, unwilling to risk another hit, but many had remained. To those, George had given his

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