Biography & Autobiography
- Adventurers & Explorers 15
- Artists, Architects, Photographers 16
- Business 2
- Composers & Musicians 14
- Criminals & Outlaws 5
- Editors, Journalists, Publishers 6
- Educators 1
- Entertainment & Performing Arts 3
- General 71
- Health, Exercise & Fitness 1
- Historians 3
- Historical 83
- Law Enforcement 1
- Lawyers & Judges 3
- Literary 147
- Medical 7
- Military 48
- Naturalists, Gardeners, Environmentalists 8
- Personal Memoirs & Diaries
- Philosophers 3
- Political 9
- Presidents & Heads of State 38
- Religious 38
- Rich & Famous 27
- Scientists 13
- Women 31
Personal Memoirs & Diaries Books
Sort by:
by:
Marcel Dupont
I. HOW I WENT TO THE FRONT The train was creeping along slowly in the soft night air. Seated on a truss of hay in the horse-box with my own two horses and that of my orderly, Wattrelot, I looked out through the gap left by the unclosed sliding door. How slowly we were going! How often we stopped! I got impatient as I thought of the hours we were losing whilst the other fellows were fighting and reaping...
more...
by:
H. C. W. Bishop
CTESIPHON In India, in the early days of the war, a newly gazetted subaltern of the Indian Army Reserve of Officers was sent for a month's preliminary training to one of the few remaining British regular battalions. Afterwards he was attached to an Indian Regiment, and, if fortunate, went on service with the same battalion. A great number, however, were sent off to join other units in the field....
more...
THE UTTERMOST PART I have always admired the sagacity of Balak, King of Moab, about whom we learn something in the Book of Numbers. He was threatened with invasion by a powerful foe and felt unequal to offering armed resistance. He invoked the aid of spiritual powers by inviting a prophet, Balaam, to come and curse the army of the invaders. Balaam suffered himself to be persuaded and bribed by the...
more...
by:
Keith Henderson
LETTERS TO HELEN June 6, 1916. Well, here we are in the slowest train that ever limped, and I've been to sleep for seven hours. The first good sleep since leaving England. And now, as we've got twenty-eight hours to go still, there's time to write a letter. The last three days' postcards have been scrappy and unintelligible, but we departed without warning and with the most Sherlock...
more...
by:
Richard Haigh
THE MEANING OF THE TANK CORPS TANKS! To the uninitiated—as were we in those days when we returned to the Somme, too late to see the tanks make their first dramatic entrance—the name conjures up a picture of an iron monster, breathing fire and exhaling bullets and shells, hurling itself against the enemy, unassailable by man and impervious to the most deadly engines of war; sublime, indeed, in its...
more...
CHAPTER I A PADRE WHO SAID THE RIGHT THING France, April 8th, 1916. The sun glared from a Mediterranean sky and from the surface of the Mediterranean sea. The liner heaved easily to a slow swell. In the waist of the ship a densely packed crowd of sunburnt faces upturned towards a speaker who leaned over the rail of the promenade deck above. Beside the speaker was a slight figure with three long rows of...
more...
by:
John Ward
CHAPTER I FROM HONG-KONG TO SIBERIA The 25th Battalion of the Middlesex Regiment had already such a record of travel and remarkable experiences to its credit that it was in quite a matter-of-fact way I answered a summons from Headquarters at Hong-Kong, one morning in November, 1917, and received the instruction to hold myself and my battalion in readiness to proceed to a destination unknown. Further...
more...
by:
Harold Harvey
CHAPTER I. From Southampton to Malta. On the outbreak of the war I joined the Royal Fusiliers, uninfluenced by the appeal of wall-posters or the blandishments of a recruiting sergeant. My former experience as a trooper in the Hertfordshire Yeomanry being accounted unto me for military righteousness, I sailed with my regiment from Southampton on September 3rd, 1914. We thought we were bound for France...
more...
by:
C. A. Rose
Breaking Us In. On a morning early in August, 1915, the Brigade disembarked at Havre without mishap to man, horse, or material, and proceeded to a Rest Camp on the outskirts of the town. We were in France at last! The same evening the Batteries started to entrain, and every two hours a complete unit was despatched up the line—to an unknown destination. The men received refreshments at various Haltes,...
more...
CHAPTER I MAC BECOMES A TROOPER A winter storm raged across the ridges and tore in violent gusts down the gullies, carrying great squalls of fleecy snow. The wind swept the flakes horizontally through the gap where the station track ran an irregular course through the bush; and, though but a short hour had passed since the ominous mass of black cloud had swept over the early morning sky, the ground was...
more...