The thing that made a stark and moving impression on me was the beginning of part five, chapter four; where Vera Brittain spoke of the late poet Rupert Brook’s tragic poem of death and war in WWI and how she is comparing to 1933 and how he (the poet) would have fared had he lived into old age at the beginning of another world war, instead of being struck down in his prime.

The vivid impression is the grief of the death of such young people, but also the people’s complete helplessness in the tangles of this war and how she felt so unprepared not only by her upbringing; her provincial life, but the fact that nothing could prepare any of them for the life of this terrible event.   Before this war, most people, especially the young men, believed in the honor and nobleness of  fighting for one’s country and King.  Now they were caught in the helpless throes of a war machine which ate up young lives, but gave no glory; no honor.