19 SEPTEMBER 1947, Page 10

MEMORY OF ARNHEM

AND whilst we slogged the split road, dusty and pale Along the deserted hamlets and sleepy buttercup fields I discovered my heart had travelled away for a while To the blue coast of a wide romantic fairyland.

We saw battered steeples, the burnt windmill, Shadows of an old evacuated citadel.

A puppy dog, forgotten in never ending retreat, danced Merrily up to us but startled by our silence—

Howled.

Metallic the threatening drone, the fright In the warm autumn air ; the thought: Is this defeat In the West?—and I never glanced even but walked on And tired God only knew where. . . .

PETER RATAZZI.