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About the author:
I have coffee most every morning at my "office" - a small table in a 1920s style restaurant and hotel called the Olympic Club in Centralia, Washington. Visitors assume I work there, some think I am the manager. I direct people to the bathrooms - the urinals in this place are a tourist attraction all by themselves. This is where I write. The chaos and atmosphere prepare me for the day, and everyone in town knows if you need to talk to me, just drop by the "Oly Club."
Most don't know that I have a master's degree in business, and have run my own technology company for nearly twenty of my last forty working years. I won a national championship on horseback, raced sailboats, wrestled octopus, baby-sat a killer whale, and once was a cook on a salmon purse seiner.
I have read "A Soldier's Burial" aloud over General Patton's grave in Luxembourg, and said a prayer of thanks at the very spot at Margaret in Belgium where the German panzers were stopped outside Bastogne. I cried on Omaha Beach in Normandy and in the gas chamber at Dachau. I wear a silver Stetson and boots when I travel and answer to "Hey, cowboy!' in several languages.
I have led an interesting life - married thirty-plus years, have three children, five grandchildren, and twenty-five foster children. I am now free to pursue my passion for writing - especially about the two great wars of the twentieth century. I cherish my role as "author-in-residence," or that crazy guy at the table by the urinals - it depends on your perspective.
The Scavengers of Graveny Marsh
L. W. Hewitt
The stables stood since Elizabethan times on the grounds of Castle Whitstable in Kent. There was a time when the trumpets of war sounded the stables' grooms fitted the castle mounts for battle. That was before the Great War. Before machine guns, mustard gas, and aeroplanes. It was a glorious time, at least in the myths woven to disguise the blood and screams of men and horses dying in battle.
This new war - with its machines and radios - had little use for the stone stables. Officers no longer rode their mounts into battle, swords held high. The Remount Service no longer scavenged the countryside for horses, leaving the peasants to plow the fields with only the sweat of their backs. For the first time in centuries there was a war, and quiet in the stables of Castle Whitstable.
Until the Americans arrived.
- Publication Date:
- 1505623308 / 9781505623307
- Page Count:
- Binding Type:
- US Trade Paper
- Trim Size:
- 6" x 9"
- Black and White
- Related Categories:
- Fiction / Historical / General