I Bought a Star [antikvár]

PREFACE Some ten years ago I wrote a book about my Welsh upland farm. Events had already separated me from my farm when I joined the Army in 1939. Most of my companions were then, like me, civilians in uniform groping for military adequacy. It was not surprising that they achieved competence quickly, for, just as in the owner of a pot of geraniums one finds the farmer, so beneath the civilized lick of paint the primitive fighter is discovered. Farming and fighting are very old occupations, and are instinct in all of us. Men plough and sow their peaceful seeds, but just as readily, like Jason, they yoke together the wild bulls and plant dragons' teeth. Perhaps it will be many centuries before one small boy forbears to punch another, and before his father ceases to resort to arms. When this time of goodwill comes the qualities of selflessness, comradeship, and courage will be robbed of a powerful stimulant. To that extent war serves a good purpose. Most of the farming year is but a preparation for the spectacular few days of reaping what has been sown. So in war the time of training is long, and the fulfilment of action brief. This, therefore, is not a war book saturated with the blood and touched with the glory which so few of us Servicemen had the opportunity to see or earn. It is the story of one of the millions of civilians who were caught up in the machine of Service tradition and fashioned to its ends. T.F. Chagford, Devon May ly 1951