The Eulogy

Thomas Wilkins lived alone when he died. His wife Ethel had died some 8 years earlier.

The funeral had been arranged by Toms only living relative, Roger, who was his nephew. The son of his late sister Edith.

Toms best fiend for all of his adult life was Sidney Potter. Sid was asked by Roger if he would write and read a eulogy at Toms funeral. Sid said he would be honoured and had something already in mind.

The funeral was to be held in his local village called Dove Holes in Derbyshire, just a few miles outside of Buxton. it was a small community with just a few hundred people living there. Tom had lived there since 1966.

On the day of the funeral the small church was packed. Standing room only. Tom had been a popular man in the village and liked to live life to the full, he was well known in all three of the pubs in Dove Holes and both betting shops too!

Tom had been a good looking man as well, looking at least 10 years younger than his 76 years. Silver hair, combed neatly with a side parting and quiff. Reasonably fit for a man of his age, walked everywhere no matter what the weather, Tom would never get a bus or train, he just loved to walk.

So it was somewhat of a shock to everyone when Tom suddenly fell off his barstool in the Nightingale Arms public house on a wet wednesday afternoon. Massive heart attack the doctor had said. So it was left to nephew Roger to organise everything.

The coffin was carried in by Roger, Sidney and two local publicans. The coffin was laid at the front of the church on the podium ready for cremation. The vicar said a few short words about Toms life then Roger stood up and thanked everyone for coming, he also said what a fine figure of a man Tom had been. He invited sidney up to give the eulogy.

Now, two things would suprise everyone by Sids eulogy, firstly it was long, over 45 minutes,

Secondly from start to finish it was entirely in French!

Shock filled the church!

Firstly because no one had a clue what was being said but also because everyone knew Sid couldn't speak French.

Sid seemed to be in a trance, speaking the words fluently but obviously not understanding a word he was saying. He wasn't reading from notes either he was just saying the words with great passion. His arms were all over the place, gesturing upwards and then stretched out as if he was pointing at the congregation,

People started to get rather agitated and after about 20 minutes started speaking amongst themselves, all of them curious as to what the hell was going on!

Until after about 30 minutes, a small elderly lady at the back of the church stood up and started to cry, not a wimper, but a loud mournfull cry. She was about 80, quite frail and dressed in a long black coat. She had a scarf covering her head so that only her face was visible. She was clearly grieving.

She stood there with her head in her hands crying uncontrollably all the way through the last 15 minutes of Sids eulogy. When Sid finished, he gave a long sigh and then went back to his seat. He was still in a state of trance but visibly shaking.

The old lady made her way over to him, bent over and whispered in his ear. something made Sid smile and then laugh. The old lady went over to the coffin touched it gently. Then turned away and left the church.

There was a strange silence now in the church, people had stopped murmering and were once again looking over to Sid. He seemed to have returned to his old self. He stepped up once again to stand by Toms coffin.

"Thank you everyone" he said. " I will now read a few words about my mate Tom". He seemed to be completely unaware of the past 45 minutes.

He began:

" I knew Tom Wilkins for many years, in fact more years than I care to remember,in fact it was because of me that Tom settled here in Dove Holes. Not many of you know this but Tom originally came from Bethnall Green, East London.

We were stationed together for Army training and became firm friends, I kept going on about how beautiful the countryside was here, I must have gone on about it so much that eventually he gave me a promise.

If we get out of this alive Sid, one day i'll come and join you in bloody Dove Holes.

We were both sent to France after training in 1944. We took part in the D Day landings in June of that year. We landed and fought our way to a small village in Normandy called Caen. We had got seperated from our regiment as soon as we hit the beach, but as always me and Tom had stuck together.We held up in a small farmhouse with shells going off all around us.

Tom was braver than me and decided he wanted to have a look around. I told him not to be stupid as there were german snipers everywhere just waiting to pick us off. But we all know, Tom, he was a stubborn bugger and said that unless we found something to eat and drink we would starve anyway!

Off he went. He seemed to be gone for hours but is was actually no more than about 25 minutes,

Imagine my suprise, there he was standing in front of me with bread, wine and a lovely French girl!

She was a bit older than us, about 25 or 26 and we were only 21, just kids really. Even with dirt on her face and her clothes looking like rags, she looked stunning. As we all know, Tom was a good looking man, so imagine what he was like back then. Yes a handsome bastard!

Sher spoke english but not that well, we of course spoke no French, bet we managed to communicate by the odd word and some kind of of wierd sign language. Her family had been taken away by the germans and she had been left on her own for god knows how long. Her name was Chantelle.

She had been hiding in the barn away from the farmhouse in a secret cellar.She had heard that the Brits were coming and had tried to make contact via her radio. We were the first Brits she had seen in years.

Over the next 36 hours, Tom and her became very close. They seemed to have a bond between them and although the language barrier was there they seemed to communicate as well as any couple do when they have that chemistry in them.

How it happened so quickly, i dont know. But we all know Tom was a charmer!

Our Regiment finally arrived and we had to leave with them. Tom tried frantically to get the Seargeant to let her come with us, but he was told over and over again that we had to push on and that it was no place for a woman.Besides she would be safer at the farmhouse.

Tom gave her a kiss on the cheek and promised her that she would be safe if she stayed at the farmhouse, he also promised her that as soon as it was safe to do so he would return for her and take her to England.I remember Tom and Chantelle crying as they parted and Tom shouting out I Promise i'll be back.

We had only moved on about 300 yards when there was a massive explosion behind us, we looked back and saw the farmhouse had taken a direct hit and was now just a mass of smoke and rubble

Tom sank to his knees and cried like a baby.

When the war was over, Tom tried to find out more about Chantelle, he visited Caen twice in the 1950,s to see if there was any trace, but no one could give him any information.

To be fair the whole of the town had been destroyed and was being rebuilt, therefore people had moved away.

Tom went back to East London in 1946 and in 1950 married Ethel. We kept in touch and true to his word he and Ethel moved to Dove Holes in 1966. The same weekend that England won the world cup.

We would often sit and talk about the war and he would always mention Chantelle, he had one hope, that she had survived the bombing. if she could have just got back to the cellar in the barn she would have been ok.

He would say this over and over again!

When Tom died, I wrote a letter to the Mayor of Caen asking if he could find out anything about Chantelle, I told him the day and the date of the funeral in the hope that a small miracle might just happen.

Oh well looks like she never made it. God bless you mate.See you in a while."

Sid sat down.

The Church was silent, apart from the sound of falling tears.

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