A novel written over a decade incurs many obligations. My apologies if any, in the fullness of time, have been forgotten.
In my reading about the Second World War, two books were particularly helpful: A Nurse’s War, by Brenda McBryde, and Faces from the Fire, by Leonard Moseley. Those familiar with the latter will recognise that Samuel Rosenblum is loosely based on the legendary plastic surgeon Archie McIndoe, head of the famous burns unit at East Grinstead.
Although this novel is set in Scotland, I have taken certain liberties with the landscape. My versions of Troon and Glasgow cannot be mapped exactly onto those real places.
I am grateful to Amanda Urban, who believed that this book could see the light of day, and to Jennifer Barth, John Sterling, and the other wonderful people at Henry Holt for making that possible.
Various friends commented on the manuscript and encouraged me, perhaps unwittingly, to keep going. My thanks to Tom Bahr, Charles Baxter, Robert Boswell, Carol Frost, Eddy Harris, Jim Shepard, Chuck Wachtel.
To those who understood that the life and the work were intertwined and who helped me to live the former and write the latter, I owe a special debt: Eric Garnick, Kathleen Hill, Camille Smith, Holly Zeeb. To Susan Brison, whose friendship has happily sustained me for twenty-five years, I offer my deep thanks.
The story began with Merril and Roger Sylvester on a Scottish hillside. Andrea Barrett helped me to finish it.
This book is for Eva Barbara Malcolm McEwen, whose short life I regret making, in the interests of fiction, still shorter.