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Rudyard Kipling: [after being informed of Jack's death] By all accounts he was very brave, so few of us have the opportunity to play our part properly. But he did. He achieved what he set out to achieve.
Caroline Kipling: He must have been in such awful pain.
Rudyard Kipling: If you talked to wounded soldiers they would tell you the pain only sets in later. So, he was lucky. I was done with quickly.
Caroline Kipling: Don't tell me he was lucky! He wasn't lucky, or... or Brave, or happy! Jack was eighteen years and 1 day old! He died in the rain, he couldn't see a thing, he was alone! You can't persuade me that there's any glory in that!
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Caroline Kipling: [crying] I miss him.
Rudyard Kipling: [bursts into tears] So do I.
Caroline Kipling: I can feel his head on my chest. I can feel his thick hair under my fingers. I can hear him laugh. I can feel his heat against me.
Extended Reading
