'Monday, 13th May 1935. It was a fine and calm early morning. By mid-morning the sun had warmed the heath to produce broken cumulus cloud accompanied by a moderate east to north-east breeze blowing in the clear air. Pat Knowles remembered, "he came across to my house earlier than usual. It was one of those bright, still, early spring mornings, and the bird-song, clear and vibrant in the still air, had awakened him soon after five, so, seeing the smoke from my fire he came across. "Whilst I was getting breakfast the postman came. Shaw opened his mail and said that [Henry] Williamson wanted to see him. Over breakfast we discussed his letter. Shaw felt that it would be as well to let him come as soon as possible as he might not have the time to spare later. I said why not the next day? He thought it a good idea, and so it was decided […]; he would go down later and send off a telegram telling him to come for lunch the following day… "After breakfast Shaw brought out the Brough and I heard him running it up. I guess that he was cleaning and polishing and servicing it. […] I was working in the garden and heard him leave and heard the sound of the Brough's engine all the way to Bovington."' ‘At precisely 11.25 a.m. a telegram was dictated and the Post Office assistant wrote it out and sent it to Henry Williamson:
'From the Post Office Lawrence walked the short distance back across the road to the Red Garage. Walt Pitman, the pump attendant, asked him if he needed any fuel; Lawrence replied, “I'm alright, thanks,” then he climbed on to his Brough...’
T.E. never made it home. On his return, he slammed on the brakes attempting an emergency stop, swerving to avoid two young cyclists, Albert Hargreaves and Frank Fletcher. He was thrown into the air --head first, wearing no helmet-- and landed just beyond his motorbike.
Images, top to bottom: Portrait by Reginald Sims at the White Cottage, Hornsea, February 1935; The telegram sent to Henry Williamson; Photograph by Bill Knowles of T.E. at Clouds Hill on 'George VII', GW2275 in summer 1934 (possibly the only image of him on this ill-fated bike).
The above paragraphs are an abridged excerpt from Chapter 12, 'On the 13th Day of May' of The Last Days of T.E. Lawrence: A Leaf in the Wind, Paul Marriott and Yvonne Argent, 2002, pp. 102-3.
I expect at least some of this chapter has been shared many times before, but I still felt compelled to copy it out again. I think about T.E. every day, but over the course of the next week or so, he will likely take over the entirety of my brain: dear, dear man.
