On June 22, 2012 I posted a Feature and giveaway of The Siren of Paris. Be sure to go there to enter the international giveaway! Now I would like to welcome the author, David LeRoy to So Many Precious Books. Welcome David!
Your Siren’s Calling
You were wearing the smart pumps on June 3rd, 1940. When those terrible sirens sounded at noon, and the bombs started to fall in Paris, they were quick to get out of and grab, as you ran across the street to the metro station underground shelter. Later that night you called your sister and brother back in England. Even though they pleaded for you to leave, you decided it was safer to stay.
On June 10th, sitting in that special prayer service at Notre Dam, you admired Ambassador Bullitt as he knelt before the Priest. Your heart went out to the man as he sobbed underneath the blessing of the priest, now bestowing upon him the duties of Mayor of Paris. The government left for the south of France. Maybe now America will soon join the war you secretly prayed that morning.
The all night air raids and bombs on the night of June 11th rattled you to the core. You had already accepted the worse that could happen, but you didn’t honestly think it would be that bad. As the shockwaves hit the metro station, doubt returned to your soul. It has been ten years now since you move to Paris from London, and maybe now is the best time to return home you think to yourself amid the frightened women and children. In the morning, you tried to phone home to your sister, but the phone lines leaving Paris had now been cut.
It seemed things turned around when your friend from the Church Army encouraged you to come with them on a train to the coast of Saint-Nazaire. Ships are waiting to take the soldiers home and civilians can tag along. You surprised yourself when you had to climb on top of the train the morning of June 12thwith the other fleeing refugees of Paris. It is not easy being over 60 years old. It was good to know that in a pinch you could do whatever you needed to do. The train left the cover of the station revealing the clear bright morning sky and as you accepted that the peaceful retirement you hoped for was but a dream.
In Saint-Nazaire on June 17th, a fishing boat took you out to the refugee ship in the bay. When you clip the heel off of your right pump, as you board the ship, it does not get you down. You just clipped the other one off to make some flats. At least you are now almost home, where it will be safer than France. Waiting for the ship to leave, you visit with some other civilian refugees in the lounge, watching some children from Belgium play with some of the soldiers.
When the bombs fall on the ship, and your lifeboat over turned into the water below, you faced another test of your will. You swam with everything you had for the other lifeboat rowing away from the sinking ship.
“Known unto god,” was not your choice for a marker. The letters for you have gone unanswered back in Paris. None of them suspected or guessed you made it this far. You were sixty at the time, and could never ride on top of train, or walk for miles upon miles to a port on the west coast of France. Your sister and brother in London dismissed any idea that you had even left Paris. It was desperate and foolish to board a troop ship, but it was the only choice you had. At the time, it seemed like a good one, so you made the best of it.
The polite young man, who helped you on top of the train, he is the same young man who you saw that morning at Norte Dam Cathedral with the Ambassador. You enjoyed chatting with him while walking towards Saint-Nazaire when your train broke down, mussing how much your family would worry if they could only see you then. He got on the same ship as you did, but swam just a little bit faster.
For you, the war is now over, but for him, it has just begun. The ship is now resting on the bottom of the harbor of Saint-Nazaire with 6,000 or more other forsaken souls. The helpful young man has been conscripted by the Germans to dig your grave. Because you were a civilian with no identity disk, your grave is marked “Known unto God.” Your siren’s calling was the RMS. Lancastria, Britain’s worse maritime disaster ever, but your family will never know it, because the British government suppressed the news from being broadcasted over the D-System. That young gentleman Marc, who helped you on top of the train, siren’s calling is back in Paris. You will need to read in The Siren of Paris to know his fate. May the Lord be with you my Known unto God. Your brother and sister would be proud of just how far you made it even at 60 with a heart condition and gout.
David LeRoy.
@studioleroy
David Leroy did extensive research on the German occupation of France for his debut novel The Siren of Paris. This historical novel follows the journey of one American from medical student, to artist, to political prisoner at Buchenwald Concentration Camp during World War Two. Rich in historical detail, full of suspense, and offering a bit of romance, this novel is definitely a page turner.
For more information about this virtual book tour, please visit — http://bookpromotionservices.com/2012/05/22/siren-of-paris-tour/
You can purchase The Siren of Paris in Kindle e-book format from Amazon — http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0088CA098 and learn more about this author and novel
at http://www.thesirenofparis.com/For more information about this virtual book tour, please visit — http://bookpromotionservices.com/2012/05/22/siren-of-paris-tour/
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His day by day report is interesting, definitely sounds like he studied the historical aspect a lot.
Intriguing post
Historical. Sounds like the author definitely did his research.
I have just read this post and am making this book my next read on my Kindle.
Finally read this book. Wow! Liked the technique of the ghosts/voices. It added to the horror and insanity of the situation.