Not Having Been a Soldier
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'Every man thinks meanly of himself for not having been a soldier, or not having been at sea' (Samuel Johnson, 1778) This book is a reflection on the Second World War. Most memoirs are by people who lived through the events. But for the generation growing up after 1945, the films, books, television programmes and stories their parents told them about 'The War' have had to act as substitute. They have been to the war museums, seen the displays of vintage Spitfires, read the obituaries of those who served, and stood at their local Cenotaph to listen to the Last Post. To them, talking about the w...
'Every man thinks meanly of himself for not having been a soldier, or not having been at sea' (Samuel Johnson, 1778) This book is a reflection on the Second World War. Most memoirs are by people who lived through the events. But for the generation growing up after 1945, the films, books, television programmes and stories their parents told them about 'The War' have had to act as substitute. They have been to the war museums, seen the displays of vintage Spitfires, read the obituaries of those who served, and stood at their local Cenotaph to listen to the Last Post. To them, talking about the war is second nature. The book opens with the deaths of two British servicemen in 1941, and closes with that of a third, in 2002. In between, set in the countryside and pubs of England and Wales, the author chronicles his observations, the discovery that he is not alone in being named after a relative killed in the conflict, and his conversations with contemporaries. Throughout runs the common thread of the war that none of them had to fight.
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