To observe

I am slow to observe our loss of a

superlative and necessary historian,

a writer of texts of a true and trust-

worthy bond between generations in my

own family and, if that can be the case,

in many, many others. Last August saw

the death of Sir John Keegan, OBE, the

first since Homer to take up the char-

acter of The Face of Battle and with 

scrupulous methodology, to substantiate

the poetry of the Iliad.

A distinguished lecturer at Sandhurst,

John Keegan accepted teaching fellow-

ships at my university, at Vassar, and

even here, prefacing one of his histor-

ies with touching affection for our 4-

board fencing. His gift for anatomising

the demands of command on land and on

sea served many hours of conversation

between my father and myself, but his

quite properly legendary genius for the

narrative of the battle experience did

nourish our speculative silence over his

first son, my brother.

Through John Keegan I learned to read

between the lines not only of our great

military historians of the day, Max Has-

tings and Antony Beevor, but also of the

poetry of Housman, Owen, and Brooke.

Now again the Right rises up with its

classic demagoguery of rapture in force,

to sway a fragile republic to delusions

of guaranteed security in bellicosity. 

In the name of fact, I remember John 

Keegan.