One Of The Parodoxes Of War Is

If You Go Long Enough Without A Bath, Even The Fleas Will Let You Alone.

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

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.

All The Rest Of Us - You And Me And Even The Thousands Of Soldiers Behind The Lines In Africa - We Want Terribly Yet Only Academically For The War To Get Over.

War Makes Strange Giant Creatures Out Of Us Little Routine Men Who Inhabit The Earth.