: Donald Robert Wilson
: Kovacs' War A World War One Novel
: BookBaby
: 9781483544427
: 1
: CHF 2.50
:
: Historische Romane und Erzählungen
: English
: 402
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
Kovacs' War, an engaging novel by Donald Robert Wilson, tracks the adventures of foreign correspondent Peter Kovacs through World War I from 1914-1918 As Kovacs reports the violence of the war, his own personal adventures become equally remarkable. Witnessing wartime barbarism firsthand he become lost and disillusioned, entering into a love affair with a beautiful nurse despite the family he loves back home. A British intelligence official coerces Kovacs into conducting espionage for the Allies by threatening to reveal his affair, leading him far astray from merely reporting the war. In between these exploits, Kovacs writes explicit dispatches of the horrors of life in the trenches that will hopefully influence American public opinion and keep the United States out of the foreign conflict. As a result of the continuing stalemate in France, ultimately he concludes that the Allies cannot win without American intervention. His recent spying experiences draw him into a vital role toward convincing his country to enter the war. Back in the United States, sensing the potential loss of her husband to another woman, Kovacs' wife, an army nurse, travels to France to fight for her husband. She discovers that he has become seriously injured, and she clashes head on with his paramour as they attempt to save the life of the man they both love.

8 André

Aboard the Mauritania,Saturday, July 4-10, 1914

“This trip will change your life—or end it,” said André Alverov.

Peter had met Alverov at a late lunch in the Verandah Café at the after end of theMauritania. He had awakened late and took his time about getting up and ready for the first day at sea. Coffee and toast had been delivered to his stateroom, and he spent the remainder of the morning writing. He started separate letters to Carrie and each of the children, even to Muffin, knowing Carrie planned to read all of his letters aloud. Later he intended to start his first column, but found it difficult to develop a theme from inside the stateroom with only a porthole for perspective, and worked on his novel instead. He suddenly realized he was hungry and found his way to the stern of the ship and the Verandah Café.

Evidently other passengers also preferred a late, open-air lunch. The head waiter was finding it difficult to locate an empty table when a man seated alone raised his hand and indicated an empty chair. The gentleman filled his own chair completely and seemed to be tall as well as wide. His full, jowly face and more than ample sandy moustache that matched his thinning head of hair gave Peter the impression of a salesman between jobs. Supporting that image was his worn and rumpled plaid suit.

“The name’s Alverov, André Alverov,” he said as he waved Peter to the chair opposite without getting up.

“Peter Kovacs,” Peter replied. “Thank you for sharing your table.”

The restaurant, open to the fresh summer air, enabled its patrons to view the broad expanse of ocean behind the ship. Its churning wake drew a straight white line in the dark blue-green water. While the air had a slight chill, the weather was clear and too perfect to miss lunch outside. Among potted palms a string trio played chamber music.

“I would have preferred a beautiful lady if one had come along,” said Alverov, “but it seems that all of them are already occupied.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Where are you from, if I may ask?”

“New York, or actually my family and I live across the Hudson in New Jersey.”

“I’m from Canada, but travel a lot and feel at home just about everywhere.” He handed a menu across the table to Peter. “I haven’t ordered yet. Are you on a business trip?”

Peter thought the man was being a little bit too inquisitive, but didn’t mind; he had nothing to hide. “Well, I guess that’s what it is. I’m a reporter for theNew York Evening Post, and I’ve been assigned to Vienna to see what kind of trouble they’re getting themselves into.”

Alverov nodded. “A lot of trouble, I think. There’ll be a war for sure.”

“I’m hoping not,” said Peter. “Wars don’t seem to settle things.”

A waiter took their orders.

“I thought that reporters welcomed wars,” said Alverov after the waiter had left. “After all, it’s your bread and butter. Wars sell newspapers.”

“From my point of view, a journalist’s job is to expose war for what it really is. There’s no glory, no heroism, only men under severe hardships doing what they must in the face of extreme adversity