Excerpt

" He did not like to be told what to do. He was climbing into a cockpit, puffing on a cigar, when his flier reminded him that when they became airborne the cigar would be extremely dangerous. He scrambled down, flung the butt on the airstrip, and stamped on it. One evening in France he and [his secretary] Eddie Marsh were driving to his chateau in a Rolls-Royce. It was a trying journey, as Marsh described it in his diary: 'First a tyre burst with one of those loud bursts which make one think one has been assassinated--and then ... Winston gave a wrong direction, left instead of right, at a crossroad.' The chauffeur protested, Churchill abruptly put him in his place, 'and on we went in the dark, on and on literally for kilometres between the close hedges of the roadside ...' Churchill accepted none of the blame. " This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.