War makes strange giant creatures out of us little routine men who inhabit the earth.

War makes strange giant creatures out of us little routine men who inhabit the earth.

Our artillery... The Germans feared it almost more than anything we had.

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.

I try not to take any foolish chances, but there's just no way to play it completely safe and still do your job.

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.

Below us the Thames grew lighter, and all around below were the shadows - the dark shadows of buildings and bridges that formed the base of this dreadful masterpiece.