Written as a young man in Sedan, in the eastern France, which was occupied by the German's in the First Wold War, Congar makes daily entries about the War. Written from the eyes of a child, the diary was found in his room in Paris after his death and published a few years later. The diary comes with the drawings, maps, and poetry he made as part of this daily entries.

A pattern has been given to the history of the events between 1914 and 1918 which is called the 'Great War'. To Henri Desagneaux and to thousands of others, there was no pattern to be seen from the trenches where he executed orders which ensured that dozens of men had to die attempting to achieve impossible objectives worked out at a headquarters in the rear. His diary, one of the classic French accounts of the conflict, gives a vivid insight into what it was like to execute those orders, and to live in the trenches with increasingly demoralized, unruly and mutinous men. In terse unflinching prose he records their experiences as they confronted the acute dangers of the front line. The appalling conditions in which they fought and the sheer intensity of the shellfire and the close-quarter combat have rarely been conveyed with such immediacy.

Part scrapbook, part memoir, this wonderfully colourful and eloquent diary brims with vivid observations, providing a rare snapshot of what life was like on the Home Front during the First World War. Amateur artist, animal lover and keen writer of letters to the papers, Mrs Bilbrough witnessed the men leaving for war (her husband, Kenneth, a banker in the City, was fortunately too old to be called up); the horses at Waterloo waiting to be transported to France; bombings and airraids; the introduction of the Daylight Saving Bill and food price increases (her consternation as the price of a tin of tongue rose from 2/- to 4/6 is clear!). She also writes at her outrage at the shooting of British nurse Edith Cavell; her sadness when Lord Kitchener is drowned at sea; her alarm as Zeppelins flew over Kent and her anger at the wide-ranging German atrocities. Her relief as war ended is palpable ('PEACE! The armistice is signed, "the day" has come at last! And it is ours!'). Interspersed with her daily jottings are cuttings and cartoons, her own watercolours and drawings and the colourful flags that were sold to raise money for the troops. Charming yet moving, this diary gives us a taste of what it was really like to live through the Great War, seen from the perspective of an acute social observer.

"As usual, the medic, Wiatr, hid himself, the doctor had a panic attack and I decided do go by myself to the next trench in spite of the hellish artillery and canon fire. In the trench was Corporal Gorgel, who helped the officer. The scene on the front line was terrible. Blood, pieces of flesh, heads, arms, legs and intestines all around -an awful sight." Almost 100 years have passed since the end of World War I, also known as "the Great War". At the time, it was the largest war to date. Over 16.5 million people were killed in the war; more than 6 million among them were civilians. During the Great War, a soldier in the Austro-Hungarian Army fought at the frontline trenches and wrote daily in his diary, documenting his experiences there. This man, Teofil Reiss, was an Austro-Hungarian patriot, a professional soldier, a charming ladies' man, and a proud Jew. His practical perspective, trustworthy innocence and open heartedness, merge the details of this diary into a fascinating human document - a rare testimony of a frontline soldier and a picture of an honest man in a senseless war (though, not senseless to him).Almost 100 years after the war, his grandson Tuvia (who was named after him) made the decision to translate and publish his handwritten German diary, adding photos and letters, as well as an epilogue that tells the remarkable story of Teofil Reiss's life during the Nazis' rise to power, and until his death in 1942.

Margot Asquith was the wife of Herbert Henry Asquith, the Liberal Prime Minister who led Britain into war in August 1914. Asquith's early war leadership drew praise from all quarters, but in December 1916 he was forced from office in a palace coup, and replaced by Lloyd George, whose career he had done so much to promote. Margot had both the literary gifts and the vantage point to create, in her diary of these years, a compelling record of her husband's fall from grace. An intellectual socialite with the airs, if not the lineage, of an aristocrat, Margot was both a spectator and a participant in the events she describes, and in public affairs could be an ally or an embarrassment - sometimes both. Her diary vividly evokes the wartime milieu as experienced in 10 Downing Street, and describes the great political battles that lay behind the warfare on the Western Front, in which Asquith would himself lose his eldest son. The writing teems with character sketches, including Lloyd George ('a natural adventurer who may make or mar himself any day'), Churchill ('Winston's vanity is septic'), and Kitchener ('a man brutal by nature and by pose'). Never previously published, this candid, witty, and worldly diary gives us a unique insider's view of the centre of power, and an introduction by Michael Brock, in addition to explanatory footnotes and appendices written with his wife Eleanor, provide the context and background information we need to appreciate them to the full.

Sir Morgan Crofton fought in the Boer War and joined the 2nd Life Guards at 34 years old as a cavalry office. His diary charts his experiences on the front-line at Ypres from late October 1914 to the centenary of Waterloo in June 1915. Crofton describes a battlefield a world away from what he and any of his comrades had experienced before - one of staying still in trenches, being pounded by artillery and the terrifying new power of machine guns. He describes the bewildering pace of technological change as new weapons, such as gas and hand grenades entered the fray. His often ascerbic commentary offers a fascinating glimpse into the mindset of the regular officer class and his outspoken scepticism informs our understanding of a lost generation of professional soldiers.

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