Pat Barker - Regeneration

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For David, and in loving memory of Dr John Hawkings (19221987)

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First published by Viking 1991
Published in Penguin Books 1992
Reissued in this edition 2007
I

Copyright Pat Barker, 1991
All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted

The publishers wish to thank the following for permission to reproduce copyright material: George
Sassoon for Siegfried Sassoons The Rear-Guard, The General, To the Warmongers, the extract
from The Death-Bed, the extract from The Redeemer, the extract from Prelude: The Troops and
Deaths Brotherhood, all used by permission; and the Estate of Wilfred Owen for extracts from his
The Next War and Anthem for Doomed Youth, taken from Wilfred Owen: The Complete Poems and
Fragments , edited by Jon Stallworthy and published by Chatto & Windus and the Hogarth Press.

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject
to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent,
re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publishers
prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in
which it is published and without a similar condition including this
condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

978-0-14-190643-0

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I am making this statement as an act of wilful defiance of military authority, because I believe the war is being deliberately prolonged by those who have the power to end it.

I am a soldier, convinced that I am acting on behalf of soldiers. I believe that this war, upon which I entered as a war of defence and liberation, has now become a war of aggression and conquest. I believe that the purposes for which I and my fellow soldiers entered upon this war should have been so clearly stated as to have made it impossible to change them, and that, had this been done, the objects which actuated us would now be attainable by negotiation.

I have seen and endured the suffering of the troops, and I can no longer be a party to prolong these sufferings for ends which I believe to be evil and unjust.

I am not protesting against the conduct of the war, but against the political errors and insincerities for which the fighting men are being sacrificed.

On behalf of those who are suffering now I make this protest against the deception which is being practised on them; also I believe that I may help to destroy the callous complacence with which the majority of those at home regard the continuance of agonies which they do not share, and which they have not sufficient imagination to realize.

S. Sassoon
July 1917

Bryce waited for Rivers to finish reading before he spoke again. The S stands for Siegfried. Apparently, he thought that was better left out.

And Im sure he was right. Rivers folded the paper and ran his fingertips along the edge. So theyre sending him here?

Bryce smiled. Oh, I think its rather more specific than that. Theyre sending him to you.

Rivers got up and walked across to the window. It was a fine day, and many of the patients were in the hospital grounds, watching a game of tennis. He heard the pok-pok of rackets, and a cry of frustration as a ball smashed into the net. I suppose he is shell-shocked?

According to the Board, yes.

It just occurs to me that a diagnosis of neurasthenia might not be inconvenient confronted with this. He held up the Declaration.

Colonel Langdon chaired the Board. He certainly seems to think he is.

Langdon doesnt believe in shell-shock.

Bryce shrugged. Perhaps Sassoon was gibbering all over the floor.

Funk, old boy. I know Langdon. Rivers came back to his chair and sat down. He doesnt sound as if hes gibbering, does he?

Bryce said carefully, Does it matter what his mental state is? Surely its better for him to be here than in prison?

Better for him, perhaps. What about the hospital? Can you imagine what our dear Director of Medical Services is going to say, when he finds out were sheltering conchies as well as cowards, shirkers, scrimshankers and degenerates? Well just have to hope theres no publicity.

Theres going to be, Im afraid. The Declarations going to be read out in the House of Commons next week.

By?

Lees-Smith.

Rivers made a dismissive gesture.

Yes, well, I know. But it still means the press.

And the minister will say that no disciplinary action has been taken, because Mr Sassoon is suffering from a severe mental breakdown, and therefore not responsible for his actions. Im not sure I d prefer that to prison.

I dont suppose he was offered the choice. Will you take him?

You mean I am being offered a choice?

In view of your case load, yes.

Rivers took off his glasses and swept his hand down across his eyes. I suppose they have remembered to send the file?

Sassoon leant out of the carriage window, still half-expecting to see Graves come pounding along the platform, looking even more dishevelled than usual. But further down the train, doors had already begun to slam, and the platform remained empty.

The whistle blew. Immediately, he saw lines of men with grey muttering faces clambering up the ladders to face the guns. He blinked them away.

The train began to move. Too late for Robert now. Prisoner arrives without escort, Sassoon thought, sliding open the carriage door.

By arriving an hour early hed managed to get a window seat. He began picking his way across to it through the tangle of feet. An elderly vicar, two middle-aged men, both looking as if theyd done rather well out of the war, a young girl and an older woman, obviously travelling together. The train bumped over a point. Everybody rocked and swayed, and Sassoon, stumbling, almost fell into the vicars lap. He mumbled an apology and sat down. Admiring glances, and not only from the women. Sassoon turned to look out of the window, hunching his shoulder against them all.

After a while he stopped pretending to look at the smoking chimneys of Liverpools back streets and closed his eyes. He needed to sleep, but instead Roberts face floated in front of him, white and twitching as it had been last Sunday, almost a week ago now, in the lounge of the Exchange Hotel.