The tourist learns a lesson One evening in London, at a Thames-side pub (the sky and calm river were pearl and I had been mulling over a poem about history and a little launch I had seen flying the Dunkirk Jack), I remarked over my beer to a local, born I would say in the ’60s, on the rebuilding of the South bank since the Second World War. He had, he told me, heard of this Second World War, but what puzzled him was the question: Had there been, therefore, a First World War? Hal G.P. Colebatch   Fanny Radmall,…