ABSTRACT
For an Englishman of my generation, born in 1933 under the shadow of war and whose childhood was spent in the reality, and the son and brother of professional soldiers, the life and career of Anthony Eden has a very special poignancy and attraction. He was of my father’s generation, although ten years younger. Both were brought up in an England and a world in which the internal combustion engine had only just been invented and the mere idea of manned flight the prerogative of madmen and novelists. Britain’s wealth, her empire and her power were incontestable. As Sir Winston Churchill, born twelve years before my father, later wrote nostalgically in his autobiography My Early Life:
In those days the dominant forces in Great Britain were very sure of themselves and of their doctrines. They thought they could teach the world the art of government and the science of economics. They were sure they were supreme at sea and consequently safe at home. They rested therefore sedately under the convictions of power and security.
