the link if you like.
I heard a tread on the stair, so I typed in:
JMARTINC: No. I believe you. I have to go.
PINAKC: So go.
Margaret rapped on the door and entered. “Martin? I’m sorry. Am I interrupting you?”
“No. I was just doing some research.”
Margaret’s blue eyes lit up. “Really? About what?”
I glanced down at my sheet of paper. “Gallipoli.”
She nodded approvingly. “Is this part of that independent study? I thought it was about old radios.”
“It is. It was. I’m already thinking about the next one. And the next. I’m never going back to All Souls.”
Margaret settled into a chair and opened her arms. “So . . . what can I tell you about Gallipoli?”
“You can tell me how I know that word at all.”
Margaret cocked her head, like a confused dog.
“I’ve never heard that word before. I don’t even know where it is.”
“It’s in Turkey.”
“I don’t really know where Turkey is, either.”
Margaret answered patiently. “Turkey is in eastern Europe. In fact, part of it’s in Asia.”
“And Gallipoli?”
“Gallipoli was the site of a very famous battle of World War One. It’s a famous movie, too, about an Australian boy who went to his death there.”
I shook my head. “I never saw it.”
“It was really sad. The British soldiers were slaughtered.”
“Was it Prime Minister Churchill’s fault?”
Margaret straightened in her chair. “Churchill wasn’t the prime minister then. He was First Lord of the Admiralty, the equivalent to our Secretary of the Navy. But yes, he did push for the invasion through Turkey, and yes, the defeat was blamed on him.”
“But he was the Prime Minister in World War Two, right?”
“Shortly after the war began, yes.” Margaret’s eyes shifted to my list, and then back to me. “Why this sudden interest in the world wars?”
“I’m trying to keep out of All Souls, that’s all. The more independent study topics I find, the better.”
“Well, you know I can help you a little with that. I can help you a lot with World War Two history, especially where it intersects our family’s history. Remember when my All Souls class went to London?”
“No. Not really.”
Margaret frowned. “It was a pretty big deal, Martin. Mom and I saved for a year so I could go.”
I did remember. “Oh yeah.”
“We visited all the sacred places of the Mehan family: the American Embassy in Grosvenor Square, the Britain at War Experience, the Cabinet War Rooms.” Margaret’s eyes lit up. “Those rooms were incredible, Martin. Everything has been kept exactly as it was during the war. Not a paper has been moved; not a thing has been changed. Time has stopped still.”
“Yeah? Do you think time can stop still? Or move forward or back?”
“Do you mean scientifically?”
“Yeah.”
“No. But you can still get the . . . the spirit of a time by being in the place. I have felt that spirit. I felt it at the Cabinet War Rooms. It was like I was actually living in that time. I saw the telephones that the secretaries talked on; the mirrors where they checked their hairdos; the radios that they listened to. There was nothing of great historical importance, but it all added up to the real history of that time.”
I waited a moment, for dramatic effect, then said, “Can I ask you a stupid question?”
“Sure.”
“Who decides what ‘the real history of a time’ is?”
“Martin, that is a brilliant question. And the simple answer is—the winners decide. If Germany had won World War Two, the history books would be very different. What you have read is the American-British version, because they won.”
“Uh-huh. And who, exactly, decides what goes into that version?”
“At the Millennium Encyclopedia, it’s decided by Mr. Wissler. He and his wife own the encyclopedia, and he’s the publisher.” Margaret stood up and pointed at the door. “I have to go see him soon, for a meeting. Come with me, and I’ll show you how it
I heard a tread on the stair, so I typed in:
JMARTINC: No. I believe you. I have to go.
PINAKC: So go.
Margaret rapped on the door and entered. “Martin? I’m sorry. Am I interrupting you?”
“No. I was just doing some research.”
Margaret’s blue eyes lit up. “Really? About what?”
I glanced down at my sheet of paper. “Gallipoli.”
She nodded approvingly. “Is this part of that independent study? I thought it was about old radios.”
“It is. It was. I’m already thinking about the next one. And the next. I’m never going back to All Souls.”
Margaret settled into a chair and opened her arms. “So . . . what can I tell you about Gallipoli?”
“You can tell me how I know that word at all.”
Margaret cocked her head, like a confused dog.
“I’ve never heard that word before. I don’t even know where it is.”
“It’s in Turkey.”
“I don’t really know where Turkey is, either.”
Margaret answered patiently. “Turkey is in eastern Europe. In fact, part of it’s in Asia.”
“And Gallipoli?”
“Gallipoli was the site of a very famous battle of World War One. It’s a famous movie, too, about an Australian boy who went to his death there.”
I shook my head. “I never saw it.”
“It was really sad. The British soldiers were slaughtered.”
“Was it Prime Minister Churchill’s fault?”
Margaret straightened in her chair. “Churchill wasn’t the prime minister then. He was First Lord of the Admiralty, the equivalent to our Secretary of the Navy. But yes, he did push for the invasion through Turkey, and yes, the defeat was blamed on him.”
“But he was the Prime Minister in World War Two, right?”
“Shortly after the war began, yes.” Margaret’s eyes shifted to my list, and then back to me. “Why this sudden interest in the world wars?”
“I’m trying to keep out of All Souls, that’s all. The more independent study topics I find, the better.”
“Well, you know I can help you a little with that. I can help you a lot with World War Two history, especially where it intersects our family’s history. Remember when my All Souls class went to London?”
“No. Not really.”
Margaret frowned. “It was a pretty big deal, Martin. Mom and I saved for a year so I could go.”
I did remember. “Oh yeah.”
“We visited all the sacred places of the Mehan family: the American Embassy in Grosvenor Square, the Britain at War Experience, the Cabinet War Rooms.” Margaret’s eyes lit up. “Those rooms were incredible, Martin. Everything has been kept exactly as it was during the war. Not a paper has been moved; not a thing has been changed. Time has stopped still.”
“Yeah? Do you think time can stop still? Or move forward or back?”
“Do you mean scientifically?”
“Yeah.”
“No. But you can still get the . . . the spirit of a time by being in the place. I have felt that spirit. I felt it at the Cabinet War Rooms. It was like I was actually living in that time. I saw the telephones that the secretaries talked on; the mirrors where they checked their hairdos; the radios that they listened to. There was nothing of great historical importance, but it all added up to the real history of that time.”
I waited a moment, for dramatic effect, then said, “Can I ask you a stupid question?”
“Sure.”
“Who decides what ‘the real history of a time’ is?”
“Martin, that is a brilliant question. And the simple answer is—the winners decide. If Germany had won World War Two, the history books would be very different. What you have read is the American-British version, because they won.”
“Uh-huh. And who, exactly, decides what goes into that version?”
“At the Millennium Encyclopedia, it’s decided by Mr. Wissler. He and his wife own the encyclopedia, and he’s the publisher.” Margaret stood up and pointed at the door. “I have to go see him soon, for a meeting. Come with me, and I’ll show you how it
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