III The Dead
Blow out you bugles, over the rich dead
Dying has made us rarer gifts than gold
These laid the world away
Laid the world away
Gave up the years to be
Blow bugles blow! They brought us
Holiness for our dearth
And Love and Pain that
Honour, may come back as King to earth
Poured out the wine of youth
The years to be
To those who would have been their sons
They gave their immortality
Blow bugles blow – for Honour
Paid with a royal wage
Nobleness walks our ways again
As we come to our heritage
We have come to our heritage
'Within a day or two of my appointment as Attorney-General on May 28th, 1945, I went to Claridges to have my first conversation with Mr Justice Jackson, who had been commissioned by President Truman to deal with the problem of what to do with major war criminals on behalf of the United States.
A number of choices were open to us – one was to select the defendants and give them a hearing. In such event, natural justice demanded that we should inform them clearly what charges were against them, produce to them the evidence in which these charges were based, and give them a full opportunity of answering them. '
DAVID MAXWELL FYFE
That four great nations, flushed with victory and stung with injury, stay the hand of vengeance and voluntarily submit their captive enemies to the judgment of the law is one of the most significant tributes that Power has ever paid to Reason.