ABSTRACT
In August 1966, after reviewing the first volume of Harold Macmillan’s memoirs1
Desmond Morton commented in typically facetious style that he was thinking of writing his own life in nine volumes, ‘one vol for each 8 years, with a tenth if I live to 80’. The first volume, he said, would begin as follows:
I was born on November 13th, 1891 at 11 a.m. precisely. It was snowing hard. Though remembering little of this highly important event, its consequences include such phenomena as a hatred of the cold in all forms ever since, especially cold boiled mutton. That I was born in the house which, a good deal later on, became the property of Sir Winston Churchill, in Hyde Park Gate, may be regarded as a coincidence. I have always understood that this house was hired for the purpose of my arrival from the then owner, since my parents then lived at Windsor (not Windsor Castle). . . .2
