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[Page 18]
I walked into the shell-shattered library of the Doyen of Villers Bretonneux, three weeks after he, and the rest of the civilian population, had left.
On the Table was the evidence of an unfinished game of chess - the board with the remaining pieces in place, and the casualties at its sides.
Bricks, plaster, tiles, pictures and broken furniture were scattered far and wide. The players must have jumped from their chairs when the crashing "rubber-heels" arrived, and joined the villagers in precipitate retreat to and beyond Amiens.
I was astonished to find, undisturbed amid the ruins, the two chairs, table, board and pieces, just as they were when the crashing of the first shell brought about the sudden ending of the game.
The white rook, protected by the bishop, was threatening the black queen, for whose rescue some sacrafice - probably the black bishop - would have had to be made.
I sat at the table and took upon me in imagination, the cassock of the Doyen, and gazed intently at the dangerously-exposed queen. "Not only a sacrifice, but a vigourous counter-attack, is necessary to save me from ignominious defeat," I thought. "Black to move and save queen, and game if possible. No
AT HEADQUARTERS
time now; I'll take the set and a copy of the board, to work it out later."
At the headquarters cellars under the chateau, several officers endeavoured to solve the Doyen's problem; Black queen to be saved , and game, if possible. Others commenced new games, among them Captains Bob Henderson and Doss Wallack, two unconventional, and speedy players, whose methods and apparent carelessness in moving caused frequent raising of eyebrows on the part of the more serious followers of the ancient game. There was a general laugh when when Doss moved his rook square in front of Bob's queen, with his bishop protecting the rook.
"My queens caught like the padre's," laughed Bob, "Now, if something would interrupt this game as it did his, we also could call it a draw."
At that moment the General arrived to discuss the attack on the hangars, and, of course, that ended the game.
"Two games unfinished, with the black queen in a fix; mine and the padre's," laughed Bob again, as he fastened on his equipment to go out to the outposts.
"You're just as much beaten as the priest was; and like him, you are pleased you can't finish the game." chiaked Doss.
"Go on; I could save her by giving my rook. as I was going to do when 'Steve' (the General) arrived," called back Bob.
There was no further thought of the game that evening or the next day, until the Colonel learned that I was seriously wounded. His eyes wandered to the interrupted, and since untouched game.
"Blanc liked his game of chess. Pack it up and send it to him at the hospital," he ordered his batman; "and I'll enclose a plan of the board. We might get a chance of finishing it some day."
I had forgotten the game when a Digger, visiting London on leave, brought me the set and plan in an oatmeal bag. There was also a note from the Colonel; "Dear Blanc, we'll finish this game some day. I'm reading it up, so look out for yourself. Every good wish - D.M."
In November 1919, nineteen months after the so-tragically-interrupted game in the Villers Bretonneux cellar, the Colonel visited me at Randwick Military Hospital and asked if the set and plan were still in existence.
"Yes, Colonel. It's still in the same oatmeal bag too; at my home," I said.
"We must finish the game. As soon as you are discharged, bring the set and plan over to my home at Neutral Bay. We MUST finish the game," said Colonel Marks.
THE COLONEL'S EXIT
I was discharged on February 1, 1920, but my first visit to the city was to attend the memorial service in honor of my C.O. There was no funeral. The Colonel was still a young man - only 24. On January 26 a stranger - a woman - got into danger in the Palm Beach surf and the gallant Marks rushed to her rescue. No trace of him was ever found.
The Principal of a High School, spending a recent holiday with me, saw me gazing at the old set, and suggested a game.
Drawing up the chairs, I told the story of the several games related above.
"Your move, Tom" I said.
"NOT ON YOUR LIFE! I wouldn't play with this set, or with that black queen, for all the tea in China. I'm going on a motor tour next week."
"You superstitious old Irishman!" I chiacked.
"No, I'm not superstitious, but there's a hoodoo on that set, or on that black queen. The Doyen was playing with it, and his home, church and town were smashed to dust. The two captains were playing, and both went west. You and your Colonel were interrupted, and you were wounded. You were engaged to reopen the game, and a shark took your Colonel. I've got a wife and family to look after."
I had never thought of superstition until then; but now I would not like to ask anyone to play a game with that set. - "Blanc" (formerly Captain, 13th Bn.)
I still have this set of chessmen.
T.A. White
20th Feb., 1953.