Often, grief accompanies shattered trust, as grief is a perfectly natural reaction to the loss that one experiences as a result of betrayal. Yet it’s possible to heal and learn to trust others and yourself again. This process may occur one moment at a time.

Trust is a Choice

Make a conscious, concerted choice to nurture yourself. There is no guarantee that you will avoid betrayal in the future, but you can learn to nurture trust. Be in integrity with yourself. Getting to know your real wants, needs and feelings and disclosing them to yourself is important. Be honest with yourself; this makes it easier to be honest with others.

One Bible passage suggests that you can build your house on sand or you can opt to build it on rock. Uplift, nurture and love yourself and you will set a firm rock foundation to learning to trust again. Let your intuition, that gut feeling be your guide. Your inner voice will always warn you of signs of danger; heed the warning signs. People will show you whether they are trustworthy or not. Learning to trust ourselves teaches us how to trust others. Know that you can make the changes that will help you learn to trust again by doing the following:

• Acknowledge how you are feeling: If you are feeling, angry, hurt, scared or wanting revenge allow yourself to feel these emotions. Let them all out. Pound a pillow, scream if you have to, but allow emotions to flow outwards in a safe place where you won’t harm others. When you have calmer moments acknowledge them also. Don’t judge any of your feelings just let them flow. In time you will begin to feel calmer and these moments will last longer.
• Start rebuilding trust within yourself: Once you allow yourself to feel what you are feeling you will begin to see that there are many things in your life that are good and going well. Begin to look for trustworthy moments in your life and slowly open to trust. Healing a broken heart doesn’t happen overnight but takes time. Start where you are and work slowly outwards to trusting others and situations again.

Learn How to Trust With Time

As you begin to trust yourself, you will trust the world around you . Trust your intuition, your common sense and your intelligence to know who, what and when to trust. Slowly, betrayal is overcome and trust is cultivated.

When that trust is broken between or among friends, it can really hurt. And it can leave you wondering if the friendship you kept with the person you thought was a friend was just a one-way thing. That is, you thought that person was your friend, but that person did not take you as a friend, after all.

These thoughts about friendship have crept up my mind recently when I found out that a person whom I have considered all these years as a valued friend, someone to keep till I grow old, has had a major development in her life for some years now, without telling me or some other of her “friends” about it. I cannot say here in this piece what kind of development has happened her life in case she reads this and finds out it is me. But when I found out just a few weeks ago, through a common friend of ours, what had happened to her and has been happening to her for some years now, I was really shocked. I was shocked not because of what had happened to her, which would have been a joyous moment that any another proud person would have easily shared the news to her or his friends. But I shocked and unbelieving that she has managed for so long not to tell me or her other friends about this supposedly happy development in her life, friends who considered themselves close to her.

Well, I suppose she or anybody else is entitled to privacy on such matters. But to think that she has kept secret from her circle of closest friends that matter for years has left me wondering if she is really a person worth keeping as friend. The words “betrayal,” “mistrust,” “misled” and similar ones come to my mind. Especially since she has not yet come up with a plausible explanation on why she had kept us all in the dark about this development in her life. Not that our lives would have been disastrously affected by her early revelation. In fact, we would have been happy for her as we are know after we got to know this  development in her life. But, unfortunately, having us her friends finding out about this development in her life not even through her but through another person certainly changes our concept of being friends with her. And, especially, since she was not still forthright about the truth when some of us asked her for clarification or confirmation.

Losing a friend is really a sad thing in life.

In other words, the gang that former CIA agent Carr is trying to run after inheriting the leadership position from Irish, dearly beloved, Declan, aka Deke, now suddenly dead, is comprised of individuals who have problems with authority as well as bonding. They come with attitudes and moments of explosive doubt and discontent that goes with the precarious territory. It goes so far that a knife is brought under Carr’s neck at one point, as a psychopathic form of expression. These thieves are thick, all right. A team like this is not where you go for camaraderie or after-hours relaxation.

The knife-bearer and chief malcontent is badass Latin Mike who, for all his value to the crew’s operations as the boxman who can open almost any safe, is a constant burr under Carr’s saddle. Carr, if nothing else, is amazing for both his ability to put such threats in perspective and for his truly superior abilities to construct plans with the kind of “eye on the prize” concentration that imbue him a genius in human behavior and self control.

Which may be why Valerie, the sole woman and great beauty — who can guarantee mass engorgement in any room of men she glides through and which gives her a special operational effectiveness — has chosen Carr for her nighttime companion. It may have something to do with intelligence compatibility and that rarity among thieves, mutual respect.

Latin Mike’s continual enmity toward Carr may have something to do with envy of this perk, or might not. But Carr knows that his great fortune to have Vee in his bed at night doesn’t translate into total trust. Not long term, at least, trust always being a major issue in this line of work.

The split-of-the-take jobs come from the mysterious uber-boss Boyce. The start of an intricately devised con job begins as a nighttime heist in a Houston house belonging to a lawyer no one knows. It serves to illustrate the dynamics in play among our cast of characters as they roam through the dark house connected by closed circuit phone. They are far gabbier than Carr would prefer, and distinctly less disciplined as they search — not for money or jewelry — but for a not-yet-disclosed object.

Rounding out the team are Brooklyn Bobby, the electronics, security system and telecom line expert; Dennis, the digital nerd who gets lighter duty outside on security patrol; and, Valerie, aka Vee, same.

In everyone’s mind is the big score they’ve been dreaming about for four months. Delicate and dangerous at every step, the individual cuts if the plan succeeds will ensure all of them a beach-front mansion anywhere on earth. All they have to do is deprive one Curtis Prager of his tainted billions from illicit gains all over the world. Basically, a con job, but on a larger-than-usual scale and Herculean difficulty. Prager is no soft touch, in any sense of the word.

Before it’s over, Carr will enter the lion’s den, passing himself off as a major trader in diamonds and money launderer, using these to entice his way into the Prager fortress and, thence, to the laptop that is the manna from heaven, the score, the bounty and the promised land. It’s what all the word and gunplay have been for. The clock of suspense has been ticking all along, but author Spiegelmann now takes it to drumbeat level, right in the chest.

It seems, at first, that there’s nothing like the promise of a big money payoff to focus the cooperative spirit, but what this operation will show is how the smell of illicit gain hastens the emergence of agendas. Betrayal has never been off the stage here; the only mystery is whose on whom? All we know for sure is that the proverbial honor plays no part among this cast of thieves.

“Thick as Thieves” is a nail-biter, and highly original, superbly balanced mystery fiction. Spiegelman’s genius for description of setting and mood as well as the character depth that makes his people vivid and unique are among the highlights. The connection he builds to his cool, courageous central figure is superglued to heart and mind, intensifying every threat to his survival or well-being when tensions grow intense and when he’s dealing with his ageing father in a subplot.

Put another way, it’s an oft-times breath-defying character-motivated, poetically described, high-tension-wire journey, dotted with satiric humor and irony. As though that weren’t enough, the final challenge — the denouement — raises the voltage to a level that just won’t allow inattention or the “I’ve got to get some sleep” excuse. All sense of gravity and real life is held in suspension by the power of Spiegelman’s creative juice. He will hold you in suspension to the final page. This muscular read is really exciting.

Firstly, he may not have admitted to it because he didn’t think that you would ever find out. In some ways this almost makes sense – if you don’t need to be hurt, he is not going to. Unfortunately you obviously did find out which means that his plan didn’t go quite as he expected but at the same time, he was trying to spare your feelings!

The second reason why he may not admit that he betrayed you is because the “other woman” didn’t mean anything. What is the point in destroying a completely happy relationship for the sake of a drunken mistake? Sometimes these things happen and although they are not to be proud of, no hurt was intended.

The last reason that we are going to look at is that it actually gives the girlfriend or wife the upper hand and let’s face it; no man wants that! Every fight that you ever had would be finished with the “you cheated” card and it would be used in every occasion that she didn’t get her own way.

At the end of the day, as much as you want to hate him for what he did to you, the reason he never told was to keep your heart from breaking. If he really wanted to be that much of a (insert whichever word here) he would have just told you, right?

Thought you were my angel

Now it’s all gone to truth

You’ve brought me down

To the lowest low

I’m broken inside

You would know

Sometimes trying to be strong

Only brings memories

Sometimes forgetting your past

Takes a whole lot of thinking

Because I’m not the kind to forgive and forget

I want to leave now

No matter how this is

Well it’s just to late

To tell me that you didn’t mean it

That you were wrong and I was right

That you only spent the night

Trying to figure out how

You can make it up to me

It’s just to late to say you’re sorry

You hold your head up high

Never dare to swallow your pride

It’s there as long as you live

Well I call you out

You don’t mind

It’s the exact same thing every time

I’m still wishing I had said more

Damage control

But nobody that matters knows

I’m so glad that I’m gone

Well you’ve caused me pain

Well it’s just to late

To tell me that you didn’t mean it

That you were wrong and I was right

That you only spent the night

Trying to figure out how

You can make it up to me

It’s just to late to say you’re sorry

Well I don’t care how much you think of yourself

A stupid mistake

And now you call me out

I never tried

Never hurt

Now you’ve just taken me

And broken me

Now all that I have

Is a terrible memory

Well it’s just to late

To tell me that you didn’t mean it

That you were wrong and I was right

That you only spent the night

Trying to figure out how

You can make it up to me

It’s just to late to say you’re sorry

“Hi baby!” He took off his jacket and threw it in the couch. He unconsciously slammed his bag on the floor and pulled me next to him. “How was your day, my peanut?”

“I’m very good! Everything’s well except that I missed you badly” I said wrapping him with the intention of smelling his collar. There was a feminine smell in it. I knew that he went to see his other woman. “So, how was work?”

“Oh, you won’t believe it, I was dead tired but the thought of seeing you when I come home fueled me to finish the day’s work?” His smile was wide enough I could see his tonsils. I smiled back. 

“That’s so sweet of you! Come, let’s eat your favorite dish before it gets cold.” 

Day 2

 I woke up seeing a stem of yellow rose with a note in the bed. ”Need to hurry to work. See you later. Love you all my life! Ben”  

It was a good persuasion to start a day, I thought, but deep inside me commands me to focus on my agenda because I only had 8 more days left. 

“How is he going?”

“He’s with her. They’re about to dine in La Deliciousa”, Ed reported.

“Thank you. Keep an eye on them.”

Day 3

“Baby, I won’t be around this weekend. A client is coming and I have a role in the company’s presentations and I am a VIP in the assembly. I’ll be back by Sunday late afternoon. I will miss you badly.” He hugged me tight that he can almost break all the bones in my body. I was almost convinced he did it in purpose. “You sure, you’re alright alone?”

“Yes, I will be.” I tried to fake a smile, tried to assure him that I am perfectly alright. Then I gathered strength to hold his face, looked at him straight in the eye and whispered, “Promise me, you’ll make me proud during that gathering. Promise me, you’ll be back home.” then I gently kissed his lips. 

“I will”

Day 4

“Where is he?”

“He’s in Primo Beach with the lady.” Ed confided firmly.

“Do you see any of his workmates?”

“No. They’re a couple. They’re not with anybody else.”

“Have you checked if they have booked overnight?”

“Yes, they did. They’re leaving noon of tomorrow.”

“Thank you!” 

Day 5

Ben’s call had awakened me. “Hi cupcake! I missed you. You know what the client loved our presentation. He specifically mentioned me in his speech last night. It was overwhelming. I knew that I did well because of you.” His voice was so pure that my eardrum’s about to explode. 

“Oh, that’s very good news. Are you coming? I will prepare your favorite humba.”

“My bad! Our employers have invited us for dinner. Please don’t get mad with me, my pumpkin.” 

“I understand. Enjoy then. I love you.”

“I love you too. Catch you later tonight, I missed you like crazy.” He hung the phone. My heart stopped beating for 10 seconds. My blood’s temperature has risen a thousand times. You bastard! But I wanted to keep my composure. I have to wait for the next five days. 

Day 6

“Early for work?” I asked while watching him fixing his things. He seemed to be hurrying. He seemed to be panicking. 

“Yes, honeybunch. I forgot about a report I need to submit. I’m cramming to get it done. I felt like I’m cheating with my time with you.”

“Excuse me? Cheating?” Is he trying to open things up? Is he trying to suddenly become honest? No. I don’t have to hear it on the 6th day. Everything will fall on its place on the 10th. “You’re absolutely not cheating on me, are you?

“Darling, I’ve been busy these past few days, and I felt like I no longer have enough time with you. I feel so irresponsible as your husband. I’m so sorry pretty doll.” His shaky voice did justice to what he said. But it never convinced me. 

Day 7

“Who is he with?”

“Still with the lady. They have gone shopping in Shopperz Mall. By the way, I have sent you a zipped file of all their pictures last weekend. I have mailed the hard copies to you. When do you want me to send the video clippings?”

“I need it ready by Friday. Can you forward them to me today?”

“Not a problem. Just wanted to confirm that I have received your payment.”

“Thank you.”

Day 8

“You look handsome in your shirt.”

“Oh thank you, lovely.”  Ben giggled. He looked very excited.

“You smell good. Are you attending a party?” I tried not to sound suspicious and malicious.

“No, sweetie, won’t be attending one.  I am going to meet a couple.”

“Oh, a couple! Enjoy then. I love you.”

Day 9

Tomorrow’s my redemption.

Slowly, I opened the drawer. I pulled out the captured photos of Ben and his concubine. Ed’s shots were almost real. My Ben was very happy and had I been a stranger staring at their photo, I would say that they looked lovely together. My Ben was smiling heavenly with this purple-haired mannequin. She never failed the photos; she looked like a goddess in all of them.

I played some of their video clippings. They looked fabulous. He was always protective of her. He was always making her his attention. He was so fond of her. It made my stomach hurt. No not only my stomach, it’s like needles pricking in my skin slowly and then pulled out slower when it was inserted. The pain was endless.

The mannequin could have been a successful trophy wife; unfortunately, she is with the wrong man. She is with the man I loved for two decades. She stole him from me and I couldn’t snatch him back.

Since the day, I found out he was cheating, I would cry each night. I despised his coldness. I puked on his pretentions. I felt dirty whenever he touched me. I hated him totally. I would punish with impunity. I would avenged my shattered being.  

Day 10

I put on the dress he bought for me on our last year’s anniversary. I had some make-up on and tied my hair. I wore the necklace he gave me on our fifth year. My sandals were also his gists.

I was holding the cream pouch which his foster mom bought for me on one of our tours in Europe. Inside it was my dad’s gun.

“Hey, you look stunning there.” He grinned.

“I do?”  Am I a stunner now?

“You’re like a fallen angel. I’m so lucky to have you.” He kissed me.

“Yes, you are”. And she’s luckier to snatch you?

The table he set-up was wonderful. There was a heart-shaped strawberry cake, two wine glasses quarter filled, and fresh blue roses. He played our favorite song I wanna grow old with you. He looked very compassionate, very real but I knew he wasn’t. This was a scripted fantasy.

A teardrop fell on my cheek not because I was persuaded but because I felt betrayed, cheated, deceived!

He pulled a chair for me and I sat before him. My hands were shaking. Too ready to pull a trigger.

“Ben, why?” I asked sharply, tears dripping in my face.

His look was quizzical. “Why what, sunshine?”

“Why did you do this to me?”

“Because I love you. Because you are my world! If I can give you everything that makes you happy, I would. I love you, E.” He stood up and stepped forward to embrace me but I managed to push him away.

“Stop this pretention. Stop making a fool out of me. I’ve been waiting for this day to finally end everything.”

“End? What are you talking about, E? What do you mean?” He was on tears. He’s on his knees. “Please don’t say that. I beg of you. Let’s talk this out. Let me know what’s going on. I cannot live a day without you. What is happening?”

I pulled the gun and pointed it to him. “Don’t try to lie. Don’t try to lure me because you can’t. I know you’ve been cheating. I know you’ve been fooling around. I have enough.”

“E, what is happening? Please explain. If I have wronged you without me knowing it, I am deeply sorry. I love you always and forever.”

Bang! He fell to the floor, lifeless. He was covered with his lustful blood.

I couldn’t force a tear. I looked at him without regret. And I had found inner peace. I felt that he had paid for all the pain he caused me. I laughed!

I went back to the table. I knew that he would write a note. Every anniversary, he would read a love note before we eat.

It read:

My beloved wife, 

Before this paper get soaked in my tears. I would like to tell you that I love you with all my life. You are everything to me. When I wake up in the morning, I thank God that it’s your face I see. When I sleep at night, I thank God that it’s you who is beside me. When I go to work and get so tired of the people around, I think of you as my inspiration, my strength booster.  I am sorry I have been telling you the same thing for the last twenty years.

Fifteen years ago when I found out that I was adopted. I was broken and I hated my biological family for giving me away. But I realized that life is too short to hate so I have tried all my might to reconnect with them without your knowledge. I am very sorry. I had been trying to contact them for the past five years. Gladly, six months ago, I found out I have a brother. I wanted to surprise you so I invited him and his wife to visit us. Do you know that they are just living nearby with his wife?  I wanted to introduce him and his wife to you right away but I think I would have to surprise you. My twin brother will  be coming over tonight with his wife. 

I love you happy 21st anniversary.

You are my life; I know I am your life as well.

For ever faithful,

Ben. 

The room has darkened. I felt pain everywhere. I burst into tears. I couldn’t rewind what just happened. I just killed the man whom I loved.

The doorbell rang. I stood up and walked blankly, tears seemed not to stop from falling.

I opened the door and saw two familiar faces.

“Hi, good evening. I’m wondering if I get the right address for Ben Ten? I’m his twin brother and this is my wife, Lyn.”

         I dropped the iphone after reading her conversation. I only wanted to check out a song by the Righteous Brothers that was used in Top Gun, and was scrolling down to the selection when the mobile vibrated and beeped. She’s in the bathroom for a wee break. I wasn’t suppose to read it but my curiosity bested me. I should have known that the saying “curiosity kills a cat” is true. My heart stopped beating as the whole world spun over crowding my vision.

       It took me few minutes more to regain composure. If I really regained it at all or was I just mere pretending or kidding myself? I tried dismissing the thoughts of what I just read. So, I took the phone again and continued scrolling. I hit the play, didn’t bother to put the headset on, and sat on the side of the bed. I waited for her to finish the bathroom break so we can eat. The song had been playing for a couple of minutes but I am lost in thoughts. Ironically, the moment I realized I am in never-land, the same moment I chose to sink back to reality, the same time the lyrics and melody of the song playing hit me.

         I smiled bitterly. So timely! The music continued playing and its screaming loudness. My mind is screaming madness too. I stared at her and I was lost again.

   Now there’s no welcome look in your eyes
when I reach for you.
And now your’re starting to criticize little things I do.
It makes me just feel like crying, (baby).
‘Cause baby, something in you is dying.

         We dined together when she came out of the bathroom. She seemed to not notice the sudden change in me. She’s humming a tune in our bed, I was distant, pretending to be busy watching youtube videos wherein I can’t really understand any of it.

You lost that lovin’ feeling,
Whoa, that lovin’ feeling,
You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling,
Now it’s gone…gone…gone…woooooah

            The music is taunting, haunting as if testing how strong my resolves are.  “Frederick, does that name mean anything to you? “ I found myself asking her.

         I waited for answer but few minutes passed and still none. I turned to look at where she’s sitting struggling to compose myself, and waited for the answer. She’s staring back at me pale. I must be hallucinating, but yes, I thought I saw her looking guilt-stricken-pale for a second or two.

       “Where is this coming from? You were distant the whole dinner time, and who’s Frederick?”

        She asked back. Her eyes were full of uncertainties. I know for sure she’s weighing what to say next. I have known her since we were teenagers to be certain of the signs.

         I counted to ten before I asked again. I needed to be calm and level-headed. ” Your sent message says: I’ll try to find a way to meet you before my vacation is over.” Again, seconds passed before she answered.

         “Must be an old classmate. They were planning a reunion and I was told late. I wanted to attend.” She said without looking at me.

          “Quit playing mind games with me. I have read the messages, both sent and received. Quite a lot really for just an old classmate. And quite entertaining too – to chat about how big your boobs, how seductive and how delicious you are. When are you going to tell me about him? Will you even tell me about him. ” I can feel the blood rushing through my veins. I felt hot in rage all over. I had to know.

          She did not answer. This time, the guilt is apparent. She’s as pale as our bedroom wall. The corner of her mouth actually mimics a tremble. Tears started to stream down her pale face but she gave me no answer yet.

          “Was I not enough? Have I not loved you so much? Is my bed too cold for you to find warmth on another?” There’s no mistaking the anguish in my voice. If betrayal could kill I am dead right now. I wished for her to answer and proved me wrong. I was in denial. I was in hell.

           I have never heard silence could this be loud. Deafening!

          Didn’t notice how long was I staring blank at her, lost in pain and chaotic thoughts. It must have been long enough as she’s no longer crying when I snapped back in reality. I took half step back and gave her another questioning look. Can’t seemed to find the right question that she will answer truthfully. She did not move a bit so I stepped again to head out our room.

          I’m already on the door frame when she started speaking. I stopped and waited but did not turn to look back. Swimming in pain, my heart is dying slowly in her presence and I can’t help it.

      “He’s just a high school acquaintance.” She said . It hurts. I almost wanted to die right there and then. But life is not as easy as just dying itself. I won’t cower just because I am in pain. Easier said than done but I still am hopeful.

         “What happened?” I asked.  “Don’t you care anymore?” I waited for the answer. I turned to look her in the eye so I could read if she’s telling the truth.

         She just looked at me. In her eyes the doubt, the fear, the guilt, the pain, the “unsureness”, everything and I hated asking. I should have not asked. It’s like adding salt to a skinned knee. And mine is no more than just a skinned knee. I am bleeding whole and there’s no escape.  Eight years of great time together and not It felt I had nothing. I wonder if I’ll be this hurt had I not seen her messages. I wonder if I’ll be this mad had I not known their long correspondence. They had the time. They took the time. They had the nerve.

          I gave her a pained look then took the car keys to spend some time alone with myself. Staying inside the room with her feels like I’ll drown in agony. Going out seemed to be the best idea before I could think of something I would just regret after.

         “I have loved you and put you on the pedestal. We talked. We laughed. We loved. I can’t think of any reason why you would betray me.” I stepped out of our room, out of our house.

        I left without waiting for her answer. I have said just a few when all I wanna do is rant, ramble, cry, destroy things, and crash her for breaking my heart. Unmanly, but that’s how I felt and I needed to get out before my fist or hand rule my reason.

         Dark and brooding, I hit the gas and continued driving under the pouring rain. Pain hit me like a roaring thunder echoing and searing til I can hear no more as my ears are too numb of the blasting effect. Why does it have to be like this? Why do I have to feel like this?

          She did not bother to stop me from heading out. In my heart, I wish she did. Was I in the losing end? Is it wrong to still love her no matter how her betrayal stamped me to death?

        The roads are invisible. I might die driving like a maniac for hours. It’s wrong and I have little mouths to think of, not just myself, or her. But at this very moment, dying felt like the easiest way out so I won’t feel the pain anymore. Except I can’t. I am no selfish like her.

           Come back home. A message sent to my mobile phone. I was tempted to throw the phone outside and smashed the van in the light post 15 meters to the left. Yes, tempted. But instead, I found myself slowing down, hitting the reverse and steering back home. The rain stopped. My eyes are drenched with tears. I didn’t know I cried. I don’t know what will happen next. Dealing with today is difficult enough for me to think much of what will come next. For now, all I know is I need to go back home.

The End

Follow the road from Pendle east
through forest, moss and moor
when overworld’s portal hangs agape
in the days upon the year,

So many lonely travellers
have passed that way before
and met a vengeful spirit there
in the days upon the year.

In the valley by Wycoller
where mist hangs like a caul
you will hear ancient voices sing
as darkness starts to fall.

An old bridge spans the river there,
only a fool, the stories say,
would cross its span upon these nights
when the dark ones are set free.

From the shadows steps a woman,
her head shrouded by a veil.
She begged me stay a while and listen
as she told her tragic tale.

On one arm she held a basket
covered by a linen sheet
and her head was coyly lowered.
Did she practice some deceit?

Though I tried to sidestep past her
or turn away to leave
she called me with my given name,
pale fingers caught my sleeve.

Then she gently brushed my forehead:
Her soothing voice intoxicates,
men are trapped in her enchantment;
he is lost who hesitates.

She told me of two young lovers
who met in the darkness here
and made their plan for freedom
in the days upon the year,

A young maid, the only daughter
of a stern faced puritan
and a boy whose noble family
bowed to the church of Rome.

The pair met here by the river
when the mist hung like a shroud
but as they kissed she told a secret.
He recoiled and cursed aloud.

Backing away he accused her
of bringing him to shame,
the bastard child he’d got on her
would stain his family’s name.

She said “I have my father’s silver,
who cares for reputation,
we will travel to the Virginias
and there will have high station.”

“I care not for you nor your child,
you gave yourself too easily,
a harlot’s love is worth nothing
but honour demands high fee.”

Drawing his sword he pierced her heart
and took the silver coin.
Lastly he hacked off her head
hoping to conceal his crime.

And while the blood flowed from those wounds
he lifted the body high,
threw it down into dark waters
and quickly rode away.

“My father cursed my soul,” she says,
“I am damned by my falsehood
until I can find one man who has
never betrayed his love.”

She lifted up her hooded head,
no face was hidden by that cowl
only an abysmal darkness.
From the void a banshee howl.

Lifting back the basket’s cover
she showed what lay within
And then I knew this creature for
the embodiment of sin.

A lovely head lay on a pillow,
golden hair stained red with blood,
dead eyes opened, blue as sapphires,
the mouth a pink rosebud.

She threw back her cloak revealing
the wound where once her neck
rested on pale, slender shoulders.
The dead called me from the beck.

Demonic arms embraced my waist
and bore me to the edge
and the voices of the dead called out
from darkness below the bridge.

She held me over that dark water,
asked; and I denied betrayal,
“he lies, he lies,” the voices cried
and the dead hands let me fall.

All men sometime betray a love
when the passion first abates
but in the days upon the year
an avenging spirit waits.

Notes:The story is cobbled together from three local legends, The Grey Lady of Dunkenhalgh, The Headless Hag of Grane, the Haunted Bridge (which is not actually at Wycoller but Mitton does not scan). I added the gothic ending as a bit of spice.
The Days Upon The Year is a very ancient legend. A logical mindset may have wondered why there are 360 degrees of longitude and 365 days in a year. It was not always so it seems, something happened in pre – history that added five and a quarter days to the earth’s orbit. The ancient Egyptians an Sumerians believed these five days were the time in which the Gods were born, in the sense they they came to earth, and at this time of year the barriers between the physical world and other dimensions is open. Old pagan religions saw this not as unholy but as a time for partying, crazy behaviour and unconstrained boffing. The festivities were presided over by the Lord of Misrule and as normal order was suspended a lot of June / July babies looked nothing like the men who ought to be their fathers.
The Overworld is again a reference to the older religion which has no concept of hell. The physical world is the lowest level of existence and therefore the underworld.

Beck is an ancient North of England word for a small river or creek

A caul is the membrane in which a foetus is contained within the womb. It has all sorts of mystical associations which is the reason I used it here (apart from the fact that it rhymed of course.)

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Bloodaxe Corner

It is better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all. It is better to be cheated than to be a cheat. It is better to have suffered the wrong than to have done the wrong. Bitter yesterdays create a better tomorrow because of the maturity gained out of that experience. When bad thing happen to good people, they become better people. To unburden yourself of your past, first and foremost, embrace forgiveness. The one who has betrayed you has gone on with her life, but you continue to drown yourself in the memories of what has happened, ruining your today’s, your peace of mind, your sleep, your happiness and above all, your precious health. Remember, between the hated and the hater, it is always the hater who suffers more. One of the most selfish things you can do in life is to forgive the other and thus liberate yourself from the clutches of hatred.

You can help a person caught in the jaws of a crocodile. But how can you help a person who thinks he is caught in the jaws of a crocodile, while all he has is just the picture of a crocodile under his feet? The past has no reality, except in the memory in which it is processed.

Yesterday was over yesterday, and that’s the reality. Draw a line to your past and move on. Today is a new day. Carrying is an effort. Dropping is a decision. Make a decision and drop it. Life should be a forward progression, and not a backward regression. Save your future from the clutches of your past. Let go and go on…

My brother Jerry, Arrived at Company A, 34th Infantry Regiment (IR) of the 24th Infantry Division (ID) in South Korea, on August 15, 1950.  The 34th Regiment was then in the thick of a battle known as the Naktong Bulge. They were positioned on a hill overlooking the Naktong river where North Korean troops were sighted crossing the river.  Since the line the 34th formed along the river was very thin it did not take the North Koreans long to chase them off the hill.  However, given a chance to regroup and counterattack, the 34th regained the hill.  But they were being mauled mercilessly.  The 34th was taking heavy casualties.  But they were also inflicting heavy losses on the enemy.  News of the attack reached Headquarters but there were only small units in reserve that could be spared.  Company A, to which my brother was assigned, was one of the reserve units. Their joining the rest of the 34th helped but did not drive the North Koreans back across the river.  Real help was not due until the Marines were due to arrive on the 18th of August.

The hill was held until then and the Marines rescued the 34th and drove the North Koreans back across the river.  American losses were 137 killed, 763 wounded, 564 missing, many of whom were later declared dead.  Additionally there were 161 non-battle casualties.  Our troops buried 1,200 North Korean soldiers.

The battle of Naktong Bulge did not end there.  The North Koreans attacked again and this time they made a foothold on the American side of the river, not to be driven back until the Americans landed at Inchon on September 15th, 1950.  But the North Korean major objectives were never met.

The 34th fought on until, in September 1, 1950.  At this point there were only 184 men left of the original 2,000 they had when they arrived in South Korea on July 1, 1950.  The rest were, killed, wounded, POWs or missing.  Then there were those, like my brother, who were replacements.

The 24th Division struck the colours of the 34th Regiment and deactivated it. 

There is a story here.  When the North Koreans attacked South Korea on June 26th, 1950 it can as a great shock.  The South Korean Army was not well trained and it was badly infiltrated with North Korean spies and saboteurs.  Except for a few American Army training personnel stationed in South Koresa, the nearest U. S. Army units were in Japan pulling very soft occupation duty.  Their combat preparedness left much to be desired.  Although the generals constantly chided the regimental commanders to keep the units combat ready, they did not bake up those demands with money for equipment and well trained trainers.  Congress had pinched every post WWII penny it could from the military budget to pour into development and tax cuts at home.

So when the call came for troops to go immediately to South Korea to stop the North Korean march into South Korea, a small contingent of the 21st IR was flown to Pusan, South Korea, and the whole of the 34 IR was sent over on commandeered Russian ships that were last used to bring Japanese POWs home from Russia after WWII.

They were issued equipment that had come from storage units in Pacific Asia outside of Japan.  Much of the equipment, as it turned out did not work.  Most lower-level officers had been trained after the war when enthusiasm for training was not high.  The same could be said for the troops themselves.  Many had had nothing more than basic training. 

Upon landing in Pusan harbour the 34th boarded trains to travel north toward the city of Taejon.  They were full of confidence that upon seeing American soldiers in front of them the North Korean Army would turn tail and run.  From Taejon the 34th units spread out over a large territory, some felt it was too large and they were spread too thin.  Immediately there was confusion about who was in charge with some non-command officers taking it upon themselves to tell company commanders where to place their troops.  Communications were abysmal since many of the radios were not functional.   Terrible confusion ensued. 

Some smaller units became separated and when the attack came simply melted into the countryside, and were either captured, killed or made their own way back to our lines.  I spoke with one veteran who was a sergeant at the time and said the NKPA (North Korean People’s Army) was very good at probing into the line and finding the weak spot.  They would stream their troops right for that spot and split the American line, then surrounding the smaller units, overrun the American positions. That Sergeant was separated from his unit and hid in a farm yard until, under pressure from the NKPA soldiers, the farmer, who had been feeding him, turned him in.  He was one of the lucky ones who survived captivity for the duration of the war, first under the North Koreans, then the Chinese. 

The weapons that were issued the men of the 34th were old, in bad repair and the men were not well trained to use them.  Many of the ammunition pieces for bazookas, howitzers, artillery, mortars, etc. were duds.  Lower level officers who could see the impossible situation on the front line would give the order to fall back before receiving the order from superiors.  The order was sometimes interpreted as “get rid of your equipment and weapons and run back to battalion headquarters”, instead of falling back to a stronger position.  It was a rout.  Many units of the 34th were repositioned to Taejon where they were to hold the city at all cost.  There was utter confusion in the city which was surrounded and swarming with NKPA tanks and soldiers.  When the commander of the 24th ID, Gen. William F Dean, finally gave the command the pull out of Taejon, the chaos was so bad that even Gen. Dean took a wrong road, became lost and separated from his companions in his jeep and after 36 days of wandering around trying to find the our lines, he was captured.  For the torture he bravely endured during his long years of captivity he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honour.  He later said the he deserved to be court marshalled for the way the he handled the defence of Taejon. 

One survivor I talked to, named Jack Caderet, said he was in the back of a truck loaded with other troops trying to get out of Taejon when someone saw a sniper in a window of a multi-storied building.  Jack rose to fire the machine gun mounted on the cab of the truck as the sniper shot him through the mouth.  It knocked him out of the truck.  He was evacuated with the others and that was the end of his war.

As often happens in life the blame for the rout was laid squarely on the soldiers in the foxholes, not the equipment, lack of training, lack of leadership, lack of planning and lack of cooperation between units.  The men of the 34th were branded cowards.  After Taejon the commanders of the 24th never regained their faith in the 34th IR.  The long time commander of the 24th for much of the rest of the war, until he was killed in a jeep accident, was Gen. “Johnnie” Walker.  He had a very low opinion of the 34th because they “bugged out” time and time again.  The experience at Taejon where they men of the 34th suddenly realized that they had been sent not to slow the enemy down in a fair fight, even against a superior force, but they were merely cannon fodder with no way to defend themselves and no leadership or skilled lower level officers to maintain discipline.  Any general worth his salt knows that discipline and pride are taught and earned by good support and training.  The betrayal of these men by the commanders was not forgivable by the men and the feeling of betrayal was passed down from veteran to replacement.  Out pof frustration Gen. Walker ordered them to literally “Stand and die”, which under ordinary circumstances might have been a noble thing to do but to “Stand and die” defenceless without the benefit of slowing down the enemy is a pointless loss of many lives.  Those who “bugged out” and survived did the Generals a favour by living to fight again under survivable circumstances. 

Taejon was a terrible tragedy and cost thousands of lives of good men.  Responsibility for it started right with the president and congress and went all the way down to the lieutenant on the line.

Equipment got much better fairly quickly and the men began to show their metal in later battles.  But they had been called cowards while, with the notable exception of Gen. Dean, the higher command never took any responsibility for their mistakes in deploying these troops with bad and inadequate equipment, bad leadership and little training. If Gen. Dean deserved the Congressional Medal of Honour for the torture he endured, perhaps he deserved another one for his admission of guilt for his part in the fiasco of Taejon.

Much damage was done in terms of American morale and in making the enemy feel absolutely invincible by seeing the American Army turn tail and run. More lives were lost than necessary in the weeks to follow as the confident NKPA pushed the American Army into the Pusan perimeter, where my brother found them on August 13th.

My brother, Jerry, and the men of his company were transferred to the 19th IR of the 24th ID after the 34th was deactivated on September 1st.  Jerry was wounded twice by mortar fire, the second, on September 24, 1950, being serious enough to take him out of the war.  It took months in Walter Reed Hospital to heal the physical wounds.  The emotional wounds were deeper and festered in his head his whole life.  The PTSD that plagued him contributed to the poor mental health that cost him his marriage, family and, ultimately, because he eventually stopped taking his heart medicine that kept him alive, his life.

Image via Wikipedia