I never met him, but he’s a good friend
I find that everything in my life happened, “a few years ago.” Hmmm… That’s what my grandfather always said. Am I getting old? Well a few years ago, the road that I have been following for awhile (my whole life, actually) took a wonderful and unexpected turn. This amazing woman said, “Yes.” And my family suddenly grew by about a hundred thousand. Luck of the Irish, I guess — for me too, as I am Swedish.
“Count your blessings” used to be a phrase that I would hear only at church, hospitals or funerals. But these days, I feel bombarded by blessings. Too many to count. One of these blessings has been getting to know my new brother-in-law, Charles Sheppard. “A few years ago,” — did I really say that? — the subject of conversation was Charles’ father, Bob Sheppard. Bob was a celebrated hero in the French Resistance, during World War II. He served as a Lieutenant in the secretive, British Special Operation Executive, the SOE. In 1998, a five-hundred page book was published, in French, about his experiences.
I had been reading some of the book and I was very moved. Bob Sheppard parachuted behind enemy lines, more than once, to help build up the French Resistance. He was captured, many times, and spent the bulk of the war in Nazi concentration camps.
I said to Charles, “This book needs to be translated to English.”
In his usual excited manner, Charles said that he had promised his dad, before he died, that Charles would translate the book.
I blurted out, “Your first language is French. And I have experience in writing and translation. Let’s work on it together.” (I guess my other novels, which had been in-progress for years, could wait a few more.)
It’s now a few years, and five-hundred pages later. And the experience has impacted me deeply. Of course, I expected my best friend over the next few years to become a French-to-English dictionary. But what I hadn’t expected was to become thoroughly engrossed in a period of history that my parent’s generation knew through harsh experience — World War II. My only experience of it was through the TV shows and movies which Hollywood generously provided. I can now say with confidence that the old TV comedy, “Hogan’s Heroes” just doesn’t cut it anymore.
I have grown to relish my early morning times translating, as Bob Sheppard, Charles’ dad, gently revealed to me much more than his own story. He taught me history. Not only about the war, but about its relationship with earlier events. Sometimes, centuries earlier. I call him, “a walking encyclopedia.” He also showed me humble dedication to his country, and love for his neighbor, who wore many faces — even that of the “enemy.”
The Bob who revealed himself to me was a young man, a high school student at the start of the war. But war ages kids quickly. Moreover, Bob authored the book in his later years, his outlook tempered by a lifetime of experience. The one who looked over my shoulder every morning, whispering in my ear — saying, “No. That’s not what I mean. Say it like this…” — he could have been my dad, who also served in that war. He could have been any of our dad’s, our mom’s, our grandparents who lived through that time.
I never had the privilege of meeting or spending time with Bob, as did many of my family members. But Bob’s character is reflected in his son, Charles and in his siblings. And in Bob’s grandchildren as well — now my nieces and nephews. Through all of them, and through his writings, Bob Sheppard is alive and well. And has become a close friend of mine.
(See a summary of the book : Bob Sheppard Memoirs )
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