War's thunder trailed off into a tinkling minuet. The dust of Sidi Barrani, Stalingrad and Aachen had dissolved; and there, as in a dream, were the clipped green lawns of Sanssouci. There was a second palace, a big and ugly one, and a pretty little lake. And there were the Big Three, enjoying a summer evening of music.
The Spirit & the Flute. In Potsdam's rococo rooms the great Emperor Frederick had played his flute (not badly); in its disciplined gardens he had schemed to confuse and divide his enemies. Since then, Potsdam...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
