It Was A Night When London Was

Someday When Peace Has Returned To This Odd World I Want To Come To London Again And Stand On A Certain Balcony On A Moonlit Night And Look Down Upon The Peaceful Silver Curve Of The Thames With Its Dark Bridges.

It Was A Night When London Was Ringed And Stabbed With Fire.

In Their Eyes As They Pass Is Not Hatred, Not Excitement, Not Despair, Not The Tonic Of Their Victory - There Is Just The Simple Expression Of Being Here As Though They Had Been Here Doing This Forever, And Nothing Else.

But To The Fighting Soldier That Phase Of The War Is Behind. It Was Left Behind After His First Battle. His Blood Is Up. He Is Fighting For His Life, And Killing Now For Him Is As Much A Profession As Writing Is For Me.

Our Artillery Has Really Been Sensational. For Once We Have Enough Of Something And At The Right Time. Officers Tell Me They Actually Have More Guns Than They Know What To Do With.