World Battlefronts: BATTLE OF ASIA: Pomp & the Circumstances

Even the soft Indian morning seemed a bright blue pennant, peculiarly British. Sunlight splashed on the copper dome of the Viceroy's palace, and down Kings Way the War Memorial Arch, casting precise shadows, was a reminder of past victories. There was nothing to suggest desperation in the brightly polished Rolls-Royce with a plucky little Union Jack whipping from the radiator cap. The long line of troops stood rigid, a starched khaki pride.

Only Sir Edward Elgar could have put this scene to music. Only Kipling could have rhymed it. It was the glory...

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