The posthumous publication of Hugh Trevor-Roper’s wartime diaries continues the restoration of his reputation, says Geoffrey Wheatcroft
‘It was like a drug, a disease,’ said the legendary Ritz employee Victor Legg of the institution he served for…
English patriotism was still a force in 1914.
No messenger bearing bad news can expect to be popular.
After the Nazi occupation of Paris was over, Sartre famously said — somewhat hypocritically, given his own slippery behaviour — that the only possibilities had been collaboration or resistance.
By tradition, ‘What did you do in the war?’ is a question children address to Daddy, not to Mummy.
The long summer that led up to the last days of peace in Europe in 1939 — the vigil of the Nazi assault on Poland on 1 September and the ensuing Phoney War — gave little hint of the storm to come.
The craters are all filled in, the ruins replaced, and the last memories retold only in the whispery voices of the old.
The perception of war changes, remarked the poet Robert Graves, when ‘your Aunt Fanny, the firewatcher, is as likely to be killed as a soldier in battle’.