An anthology of some of the best known authors and illustrators from the First World War

C. K. Nayudu and Sachin Tendulkar naturally figure in this captivating history of cricket in India, but so too—in arresting and unexpected ways—do Mahatma Gandhi and Muhammad Ali Jinnah. The Indian careers of those great English cricketers Lord Harris and D. R. Jardine provide a window into the operations of Empire, while the extraordinary life of India's first great slow bowler, Palwankar Baloo, introduces the still-unfinished struggle against caste discrimination. Later chapters explore the competition between Hindu and Muslim cricketers in colonial India and the extraordinary passions now provoked when India plays Pakistan. An important, pioneering work, this is also a beautifully-written meditation on the ramifications of sport in society at large, and on how sport can influence both social and political history.

Rupert Brooke, strikingly good-looking, effortlessly charming and prodigiously gifted, has become the tragic embodiment of the generation lost between 1914 and 1918. Upon the poet's tragic untimely death, Winston Churchill declared that 'we shall never see his like again', yet Brooke immortalised himself in his own poignant verse: 'If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field that is forever England'. Brooke died serving king and country on the anniversary of Shakespeare's birth, St George's Day 1915, en route to fight at Gallipoli. As the tributes poured in and the war gathered momentum, the press heralded him as a hero - a focal point for the nation's grief. Already an acclaimed poet and dramatist in his youth, his romantic war poetry contrasts starkly with the work of some of his more disillusioned contemporaries. But the private letters of 'the handsomest man in all of England' reveal a far more troubled, and often misunderstood, individual... In this updated edition of Forever England, Mike Read, founder of the Rupert Brooke Society, explores the poet's fascinating life and legacy. From a tangled web of secret affairs, literary circles, mental illness and a previously unknown lovechild emerges the intriguing personality and enduring poetry of Rupert Brooke - the voice of a country torn apart by war.

When is a war not a war? Under what circumstances is humanitarian intervention by the international community justified? In what circumstances can a state legitimately put at risk the lives of members of its armed forces? These are some of the questions raised through the essays contained in Some Corner of a Foreign Field . The authors consider the main ethical and political arguments surrounding the subject of intervention, and, between them, cover a wide range of areas, coming to focus on international institutions and international law, domestic and political viewpoints, humanitarian considerations, the applicability of the just war theory, and the role of public opinion and the media. The result is a book that throws open new doors and extends the range of discussion within the ongoing debate on defence and disarmament.

Buying and living in a weekend home in France. A light-hearted excursion into an English couple's experience of French country life, which has some resemblance to that lived in England a century ago. The author introduces the reader into the details of acquiring and enjoying a home in France and getting to know the neighbours. The environment is not fixed. This way of life is on it's way out in France, too.

“Even after capture, the full horrors of war still persisted. Bombed and strafed by our own planes, and shelled by our own artillery, the words ‘For you the war is over, Tommy,’ had a hollow ring...November 1942, after five months in Suani Ben Adem, we sailed from Tripoli, en route to Naples. We were held in the hold of a coal boat, battened down, with only a few buckets for sanitation purposes. Packed in like sardines, we would have had no chance of survival, had the ship come under attack from the Royal Navy, not an uncommon occurrence.” These are the words of Private Bill Blewitt, 1st Battalion, The Sherwood Foresters, captured near Gazala in the Western Desert. He survived his capture, but over a thousand did not. Laid to rest alongside the battle casualties in the Commonwealth War Graves Cemeteries in Italy are these prisoners of war. They died from neglected wounds or diseases, were accidentally or deliberately shot both inside and outside their camps or were victims of friendly fire incidents. Some lost their lives when trying to cross the mountains to freedom, and some were betrayed by spies. Some had taken up arms again, had fought with the partisans and had died alongside them. Others had been captured whilst on dangerous missions and summarily executed. Many, but not all, have a name.