The Bitter End

This semi-autobiographical novel, published in 1928, is one of England's finest fictional accounts of an individual soldier's experience of the First World War. The central character, Donald Foster, son of a Liverpool merchant, in October 1914 volunteers for the army at the age of 16 during the half-term vacation from school; like many young men, including the author, he declared a false age in his attestation papers in order to serve. Wounded in August 1916, he's evacuated to a convalescent hospital near Newcastle-upon-Tyne, where he quickly falls in love with Celia, the daughter of the owner of the stately home in which the hospital is housed. When his physical recovery is complete, Donald returns to Flanders in September 1917; meanwhile his sister Millicent is now serving at Montreuil with the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps alongside Celia. At “the bitter end” in November 1918, Donald asks a friend, “What made you join the army?”. The response isn't patriotic or proud but instead has a sense of disillusionment: “I don't know. I can't remember.” Donald has the final word: “Neither can I!”

The author, John Brophy (born 6 December 1899), grew up in Liverpool. He was not yet 15 years old when he enlisted in the army in November 1914. He served with the Liverpool Regiment on the Western Front for the duration of the war. He studied at the University of Liverpool and after graduating in 1922, trained as a teacher. His first novel (this one) was published in 1928. Building on its success, in 1929 he published two further novels, as well as a war-themed anthology. In 1930 he edited, with Eric Partridge, Songs and Slang of the British Soldier, 1914–1918. This formed the basis for Charles Chilton's iconic play, Oh, What a Lovely War! He continued to write prolifically during the 1930s, including The Five Years, a personal history of the war in 1936. Immortal Sergeant, his 1942 novel of the Second World War, is regarded by many to be his finest work and was made into a film. Many further novels, short stories and works of non-fiction appeared in the next two decades. His only child, Brigid, was also a successful writer.

When the wounded central character is evacuated from the Western Front in August 1916, the author looks back on the carnage experienced by his unit of the army in the space of less than two years:
“Frank was dead! Sergeant Brax was dead. Corporal Jarvis had been killed just before Donald was wounded. ’09 Wharton was dead. His twin brother had been hit on 1 July. Teddy Scott had gone back wounded and Sergeant Major Budden. Captain Wrekin was dead too. David Bryant and Jack Mason were left. No. 3, indeed all the company, was broken, patched with new faces! It would never be A Company again, as he and 200 other good fellows had known it. He perceived now that the rough, boisterous existence of the Company had had a delicate loveliness of its own. Only the memories of it were left now but not war itself could sear those memories out of the sundered friendly souls that lingered on in trenches or lay sick in hospitals or cold and lonely in their unkempt graves.”