The old man puffed into sight like a venerable battlewagon steaming up over the horizon. First a smudge of smoke, then the long cigar, then the familiar, stoop-shouldered hulk that a generation had come to know as the silhouette of greatness. Prime Minister Winston Churchill scowled as he emerged from the Queen Mary, took a firm grip on the rope handrail and eased himself across a gangplank to the U.S. Coast Guard cutter Navesink in New York Harbor. Once safely on board the cutter, he politely doffed his hat* to official U.S....
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