Superficially my war was a comfortable exercise in futility carried out in a grand Scottish hotel amongst the bridge players and swillers of easy-come-by whisky. My chest got me out of active service and into guilt, as I wrote two, or is it three of the novels for which I am now acclaimed.
Patrick White, Three Uneasy Pieces
comfort, futility, hotels, novels, war, whisky, world-war-ii