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There have been many books written about the First World War but this extract from the author's introduction best shows the quality of John Phillpott's narrative which describes his retracing of his great uncle’s and his comrades’ experiences during the ‘war to end all wars’.     Please read on…

This is not a history. There are many who are far better-qualified than I who have recounted the events of that momentous summer and autumn of 1914 when the nations of Europe went to war.

No, I am a journalist. And - it has to be admitted - those who follow that calling never make good historians. For as a breed, the newspaper writer invariably lacks the discipline to do anything other than interpret. But this is not necessarily a flaw. It may even be an advantage. For I have - I hope - put flesh on the bones of a very human story in this book.

Contained within these covers is the account of one man’s fortunes in the summer and early autumn during that time of European armageddon. This is the story of an ordinary soldier going forth to war in August of that year, who, together with his comrades, would face one of the greatest trials ever endured by a British Army on active service.

There is nothing gung-ho about what follows. Should the reader detect shades of Boys’ Own, then he or she must put it down to the romantic, idealistic writing styles of those who are quoted. It must be borne in mind that we are talking about a time that is now beyond living memory. To people today, the sense of patriotism conveyed in these pages, may seem outdated, anachronistic... foolish and misguided even.

But we must remember that we are travelling back to 1914. When things came to a head in the Balkans during that long hot summer, the unfolding European crisis came as no real surprise to the citizens of Great Britain, Germany, France or Russia. An arms race had been going on since the end of the previous century. The great powers had for some time known that the balloon would go up one day. It was just a question of when.

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