A few words on my story 'Passchendaele' which appears in Black Static 38 (TTA Press). On five or six occasions in the past decade I've had the pleasure of taking groups of sixth form students to Flanders where we've stayed at a Farm/Bed and... Breakfast situated on the old battlefields. It's a beautiful, serene and yet often unnerving place to use as a base for exploration of the various sites of interest, particularly on silent evenings when time seems quite literally to stand-still. It is also littered with WWI artefacts lifted from the surrounding fields (including unexploded munitions). Just a few miles away is the allied cemetery at Tyne Cot and the tiny village of Passendale, which was obliterated during the fighting.
In the story, Hewson, an unwell (and dying) museum curator visits the farm to procure artefacts for one last exhibition. Whilst there he discovers two photographs which capture his imagination and ultimately, his soul. If any images convey the senseless devastation of WWI and warfare in general, it's these:
In the story, Hewson, an unwell (and dying) museum curator visits the farm to procure artefacts for one last exhibition. Whilst there he discovers two photographs which capture his imagination and ultimately, his soul. If any images convey the senseless devastation of WWI and warfare in general, it's these:
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