Raymond Lodge's death from shell shrapnel in 1915 was unremarkable in a war where many young men would die, but his father's response to his untimely death was. Sir Oliver Lodge, physicist, scientist, part inventor of the wireless telegraph and the spark plug, could not let go of Raymond and went on a controversial and bizarre journey into the realm of life after death. Following Sir Oliver's journey, Dear Raymond, explores the untapped topic of spirituality pre- and post-war, the influence that a national tragedy can have on a nation's belief system and the long lasting effects from this time that we still feel today. Alongside Lodge were some of the great names of the day, as a member of the Ghost Club and the Fabian Society he was in contact with famous men such as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who went on his own mission into the afterlife after losing a son. Lodge's exploration and the controversy it exploded opens our eyes to how modern religion has been shaped and changed by the conflicts of the Twentieth Century.

Now It Can Be Told comprises of Philip Gibbs recollections regarding the First World War, in which he served as an officially commissioned war reporter. Titled in reference to the relieving of censorship laws following the conclusion of World War One in 1918, this book is noticeably different from the censored or dumbed-down accounts published under Gibbs' byline in popular newspapers as the conflict wore on. In this book, the full scale of the horror wrought in Europe is told unflinchingly with the aim of showing the depravity of conflict and the destruction that results. Early in the war, Gibbs' frank and accurate accounts of the carnage of modern warfare unnerved the British government, who were concerned his accounts would demoralize citizens and turn them against the war effort. Gibbs was ordered home; on refusing to cease reporting, he was arrested and forcibly brought back to Britain.

A pilot's account of the war in the air
Books on the war in the air above the fields, broken landscapes and trenches of France and Belgium in the First World War are not numerous. Those written by pilots who experienced war in the air during the infancy of aviation are fewer still. In the early years of the 20th century the first clumsy attempts at mastering the skies was followed quickly by the necessity, on the part of armies and navies, to find individuals with the ability to learn the skills and tactics of fighting in three dimensions. Those whose learning failed them paid a price rarely expected of young students. This book was written by a young American volunteer during wartime. He informs his readers from the outset that he has a poor opinion of his own abilities and of the contribution he believes he can make, though this is difficult to understand for those who have never taken the air to fight in a primitive flying machine-without a parachute. Molter was one of those remarkable young men, irrespective of his own opinion of himself, who elected to volunteer to fight for France before America had entered the war. He gives us an insightful account of flying combat missions from the sharp end and no one who has an interest in the subject will be disappointed with his story.
Leonaur editions are newly typeset and are not facsimiles; each title is available in softcover and hardback with dustjacket; our hardbacks are cloth bound and feature gold foil lettering on their spines and fabric head and tail bands.