If I Could Not Smile, I Think

My Maternal Grandmother Was In London During The Blitz. Indeed, The Man She Was Dating Before She Met My Grandfather Was Killed Beside Her In A Cinema, In 1941, When A Bomb Came Through The Roof - A Tragedy In Which She Herself Was Badly Wounded.

That Is How We Lived, Happily And Without Hope. I Was Very Young Then, And I Did Not Miss Having A Future Because I Did Not Know I Was Entitled To One.

Nobody Has The Time To Sit Down And Explain The First World From First Principles.

At This Point In Time The War [ Wwii] Is Close Enough To Still Feel Hotly Personal To A Writer, Yet Far Enough Away So That Jingoism And Heroics Are No Longer Required.

This Is The Forked Tongue Of Grief Again. It Whispers In One Ear: Return To What You Once Loved Best, And In The Other Ear It Whispers, Move On.