Once upon a time there was a war, but so long ago and so shouldered out of the way by other wars and other kinds of wars that even people who were there are apt to forget.

it wasn’t the book, it was me. i’ve read so many war stories lately i’m just over it and the last thing i wanted to read about was nonfiction essays about Steinbeck’s time in the war. it was still interesting and i enjoyed the writing it just wasn’t my cup of tea. i could understand why people would like this though.