Before the war, Warwick Deeping had been a doctor who was also a prolific writer, mainly of historical fiction. He volunteered for the RAMC and served in Gallipoli, Belgium and Egypt.
During the war he continued to publish historical novels, and short stories in the magazines – some of which were simple patriotic moralities like The Conscientious Objector (middle-aged pacifist learns the error of his ways when attacked by tramps and saved by the violent intervention of a naval officer) .
In early 1918 he published his first novel about the war, Valour – in many ways a remarkable book for its time. It is not a good novel – partly because it is pulled in several directions. As a medical officer at Gallipoli, Deeping had seen the worst results of war, had experienced military failure, and knew the effects that these had had upon soldiers. On the other hand, he was by instinct a romantic and melodramatic writer, and he was passionately committed to the project of the war.
At one point, Deeping considers the difference between historical romance and the reality of the trenches:
Your maker of picturesque and thrilling descriptions flirts with war; he does not go through the grim ceremony that ties him to the trenches.
Romance and colour are apt to vanish out of life when a man is thirsty, or underfed, cold and wet, or sick with the sun-glare, tormented by flies and lice, or damnably afraid.
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