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89 pages

English

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In 1949, Joe ''Woodbine'' Watts mysteriously disappeared. Joe had been involved in a jewellery robbery in London and was being pursued by two groups of people - but why? He was only the getaway driver!Adam Evans, Joe''s nephew, was working in South Korea almost fifty years later and, by chance, discovered the fate of his uncle Joe.

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Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
Date de parution	30 octobre 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781528966870
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0175€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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One for the Road
Will Roberts
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-10-30
One for the Road About the Author About the Book Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgments Introduction Mayfair, London December 1949 Suburbs of Cardiff, Wales December 1949 Seoul, South Korea November 1999 Pusan, Korea November 1950 Seoul, South Korea February 1951 Seoul, South Korea March 1951 The Battle for the Imjin River 22nd April 1951 The Battle for the Imjin River Day 2, 23rd April 1951 29th Infantry Brigade Headquarters Sosa, 9th May 1951 Changwon, York and Cardiff February 2000 Changwon, South Korea March 2000 London December 1949 Changwon, South Korea March 2000 York, England February 2000 London and Cardiff February 2000 Seoul and Changwon, South Korea April 2000 London, England June 2000 Prisoners of War Technical Notes Steelmaking The Military Cross The Korea Medal The United Nations Korea Medal Notes
About the Author

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Will Roberts was born and raised in Newport, South Wales, and worked for twenty-two years at a small steel mill, making stainless steel and special steels. Upon the closure of this steel mill, Will was forced to look abroad for alternative employment and has spent the last twenty-five years travelling the world as a Steelmaking Consultant.
Having always had a passion for reading, and particularly historical novels, in 2014 he decided to write a novel himself. At the time he was working in Greece, on the beautiful Pelion peninsular, the home of the mythical centaurs, so it was no surprise his first novel was about centaurs and ancient Greece: The Last Centaur was first published in 2016.
Will Roberts is a proud and patriotic Welshman; consequently, his second publication was Massacre at Abergavenny Castle , from The Man of Gwent series. This comprises a selection of short stories depicting old, often forgotten, stories and events that took place in Wales and, in particular, the county of Gwent.
Will also has a passion for sport, rugby particularly, and has, where possible, tried to include both rugby and steelmaking in his works.
About the Book
In 1949, Joe ‘Woodbine’ Watts mysteriously disappeared. Joe had been involved in a jewellery robbery in London and was being pursued by two groups of people – but why? He was only the getaway driver!
Adam Evans, Joe’s nephew, was working in South Korea almost fifty years later and, by chance, discovered the fate of his uncle Joe.
Dedication
For my children, Aimee, Adam and Lauren; and my grandchildren, Alix, Cameron and Ffion.
Copyright Information ©
Will Roberts (2019)
The right of Will Roberts to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528966870 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to James Stevens, whose help and advice has been invaluable.
To my editor at Austin Macauley, Vinh Tran, and all those at Austin Macauley who have been involved in making this publication possible.
Introduction
I got the idea for this novel in 2016 when I had the pleasure of working with a team of engineers, mostly from Austria, on a project for a new steel mill near Busan, in South Korea.
We would, on occasion, visit a local bar where we would drink the local beer, and invariably we would have ‘One for the Road’ (although more often than not it was more than one), a term that my Austrian friends were not previously familiar with.
At the time I was reading a book about the Korean War: To the Last Round , by Andrew Salmon, so the two things seemed to come together in my mind.
What struck me when I started to read To the Last Round was how little I actually knew about the Korean War. I knew that the Americans and the British, and of course, the Chinese had participated, but very little else.
The heroic stand of The Gloucestershire Regiment on hill 235 should be recognised as one of the most outstanding rear-guard actions in British military history. The fact that they held the hill for three days, with little food or water and very little ammunition, is remarkable, to say the least.
I had, in fact, worked for a short time with a veteran of The Korean War but not once had he spoken about his experience; I wondered just how harrowing it must have been.
I must quote the Commanding officer of The 29th Brigade, Brigadier Tom Brodie; when asked about The Gloucestershire Regiment’s predicament on the hill on the second day, his reply perfectly encapsulates the British officer class and its penchant for understatement: “A bit sticky,” he said. In fact, what was left of the regiment had been completely cut off and was outnumbered by the Chinese, by around twenty to one.
The Gloucester Regiment is actually the only British Army regiment permitted to wear two cap badges on their berets, one at the front and one on the rear. It is allowed to do this due to another, much earlier, heroic stand. This particular act of defiance occurred during the Napoleonic Wars, in Egypt, when on March 21st, 1801, during the Battle of Alexandria, the 28th North Gloucestershire Regiment, were defending a strategic position. French cavalry had broken through the British lines at their rear surrounding the 28th. While still heavily engaged to their front, the order was given ‘Rear Rank, 28th! Right about Face’, and standing thus in two ranks, back to back, the regiment successfully defended its position. For this action, the 28th was accorded the unique privilege of wearing the regimental badge both on the front and the back of its head-dress.
For those who are not familiar with the phrase, ‘One for the Road’, it quite simply means a last drink before departing on a journey, be it a short walk or anything longer.
The origin of the phrase, some suggest, was that prisoners who had been condemned to hang on London’s Tyburn Tree would have a last drink at one of the pubs on their way to their public execution. This idea, however, has no proven historical record and the phrase was not in common use until the middle of the twentieth century, being used as an informal request for a final drink, in British public houses, before the walk home.
I hope you enjoy reading the book as much as I enjoyed researching and writing it.
Mayfair, London

December 1949
It was hot inside the Jaguar and Joe had wound down the window – he must keep his wits about him, he thought. He looked at his watch for the tenth time in the last minute. “C’mon Jackie, where the fuck are you?” he mumbled to himself.
He took another Woodbine from the packet he always kept either in his suit pocket or within arm’s reach and struck a Vesta to light the cigarette that always seemed to be hanging from his mouth, which was how he had got his nickname – Joe ‘Woodbine’ Watts. Immediately there was a strong smell of sulphur from the match. He exhaled the smoke through the open driver’s door window. Joe looked at his watch again. 01:18. “Come on Jackie. What the fuck’s taking you so long?” he mumbled to himself again.
Jackie Gee was the best cat burglar in London.
He had just climbed the drainpipe of an exclusive Mayfair flat and entered a rear bedroom window, to steal the jewels of one of London’s most well-known socialites.
A week earlier, Lady Sonia Wingale and her husband, Sir Anthony Wingale, had been entertained at one of London’s more prestigious clubs – The Gargoyle, and Jackie Gee had been present.
Where the lady in question had been rather loud, even effusive, Jackie Gee was the complete opposite. He had simply sat at the corner of the bar, sipping his double scotch on the rocks and observing the upper-class ladies dripping with gold and jewels. Nobody would remember Jacky Gee, but when the lady and gentleman left the premises, Jackie Gee was immediately on their tail.
The wealthy couple were totally unaware of the nondescript old black Wolseley that had followed their taxi to their flat in Mount Street, just off Park Lane, and where Woodbine was now waiting for him.
Joe and Jackie had been at school together; they were inseparable there but had lost contact with each other when they left school. Joe got work as an errand boy at one of the national newspapers, a job that he hated. Now they had met again, by chance, and picked up where they’d left off at school. Jackie needed a reliable driver and Joe had a car, though not the Jaguar Mark V he was driving now. That came later.
After the first couple of jobs, Joe was able to quit his mundane job at the newspaper and bought the Jaguar, which was his pride and joy. He was able to work, between jobs with Jackie, as a personal chauffeur to some of London’s gangland bosses, as well as some of boxing’s big names, due to the contacts he had made when he was one of the most promising amateur boxers in England.
This was probably the sixth or seventh job Joe had done for Jackie and Jackie paid well, five hundred quid in the hand and Woodbine was getting a reputation as one of the best ‘drivers’ in the London underworld.
“C’mon, Jackie, c’mon,” Joe said, more loudly this time.
Joe looked nervously in his rear-view mirror as a police car, with siren blaring, screamed south along Park Lane heading towards the River Thames.
He looked at his watch again anxiously. 01:31. Joe was still hot, despite the window remaining down. “Another