All We Left Behind
DANIELLE R. GRAHAM
One More Chapter
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020
Copyright © Danielle R. Graham 2020
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Danielle R. Graham asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008387150
Ebook Edition © January 2020 ISBN: 9780008387143
Version: 2019-12-05
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Table of Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Author’s Note
About the Author
About the Publisher
For my nephews, Parker and Declan,
and their Great Grandfather, Ted Tadayuki Kadohama
Based on true events …
The Italian Campaign, World War II, April 1944
‘Hayden. Wait up.’ Gordie jogged to catch up to me as I made my way from the intelligence tent to the flight strip. Our orders were to escort the bomber squadron to target a train transporting enemy supplies through Italy. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t fly today, pal.’ Gordie matched my stride and thudded his palm against my shoulder.
I couldn’t afford to miss a flight. We were only seventeen more missions from being reassigned and I was determined to do whatever it took to go home. ‘I’m fine,’ I mumbled, then wove against the flow of the night airmen who were headed to the mess tent for a cup of weak coffee and a breakfast of dry egg and toast.
‘Are you sure?’ Gordie asked. ‘You weren’t even paying attention back there. I don’t want to get killed because your head is somewhere else.’
My jaw tightened at the reminder of the curt letter from my father folded in the lining of my breast pocket. The truth was I hadn’t slept or eaten since I received the post. And Gordie was right. I hadn’t listened to anything our commanding officer had said during the briefing, other than noting the location of the advancement line to protect the Allied troops on the ground. I didn’t need to pay attention. I knew the orders by heart. We’d done the same routine hundreds of times in the months we’d been stationed close to the Gustav Line – fly the sortie, avoid flak, and return with everyone in the squadron. ‘I’m fine to fly.’
The tread of my boot gripped the metal of the wing as I climbed up onto my airplane to double-check the airscrew pitch. Gordie hung out next to the rudder and squinted through the glare of the Mediterranean sun to shoot me an uneasy glance. ‘Nobody’s going to question if you sit this one out. It would be safer for all of us if you take some time to grieve, maybe talk to the chaplain.’
‘Time off won’t help. Sitting around here without a distraction would be worse.’ I checked