Approaching 600 pages, the count would be 100 less but for the spaced-out headings, dividers, blanks and other design gimmicks. Regrettably, like its central subject, the volume is overweight. In all, 44,562 civilians die, 5,626 of them children. On its worst night, the Blitz kills 1,436 Londoners. Churchill hopes to rescue 50,000 Tommies from Dunkirk, then his slapdash rescue fleet brings home 338,226 to fight again. The feared German invasion is codenamed “Cromwell,” proving British fondness for haughty sarcasm. Larson salts his copiously researched recap with choice details. Watching Westminster burn under a “bomber’s moon,” a secretary writes “never was there such a contrast of natural splendor and human vileness” to bequeath this author his apt title. As bombs incinerate parts of London, Churchill prowls rooftops at his aides’ peril and his own. He works nonstop all day (save for a proper nap in pajamas), and half the night, unless he is hilariously entertaining guests, like FDR’s envoy Harry Hopkins, whose visit changes history. Yes, this prime minister starts his days drinking whisky in bed while dictating to a troop of typists, addressing topics as momentous as the Grand Alliance and as picayune as the correct spelling of Tobruk.
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