Showing posts sorted by relevance for query arthur. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query arthur. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, October 20


Arthur is my first friend in London, whom I met and formed a warm friendship with around running until age and injury prevented this shared pastime. Then, Arthur was the project engineer at TRW (now Northrop Grumman) overseeing a joint venture with O2 to provide a closed wireless network to Britain's police force and ensuring 99% availability (consumer mobile is way less). Arthur today remains my go-to pal on anything geeky, and we often discuss the abstract on a good British ramble which we used to do quite regularly pre-kids (our last walk several years ago started at Waterloo station at 8PM, ending well after midnight. More recently we biked to Oxford). Arthur bikes everywhere on his 20 year-old trusty ten speed (geer shifts on bike frame), and has spent the past three years re-wiring his penthouse near Regent's Park, NW1. Recently I asked Arthur to describe electricity for Eitan, and his response:

"Two parts to the answer

Energy is a thing that makes things HAPPEN, MOVE OR CHANGE. Examples: toaster, when you run, growing plants, driving a car, heating the kettle, burning a candle, even light from a light bulb is energy, light from the sun.

Every now and then, point out examples of energy in action as you go through the day


Energy is conserved: it moves around between objects and changes type, but it never disappears. Examples:
a. The toaster turns electricity into heat
b. When you run, you turn energy in your food into movement AND HEAT (which is why you feel hot when you exercise)
c. Growing plants take light from the sun and make it into plant stuff (and we get the energy back when we run and "burn off" the plants we ate the day before
d. Motion of car comes from energy in gasoline
e. The kettle makes heat out of electricity
f. Candle makes light and heat out of the energy in the wax (which came from the bees which ate plants which got the energy from the sun)
g. A light bulb makes heat and light from electricity



First, rub two balloons with a piece of wool cloth and show that the balloons repel each other. Explain that there are tiny things called electrons that repel (very similar to little magnets) and that we've just put electrons on the balloons from the wool cloth.

Wires are full of electrons. There's a power plant where they have machines that push on electrons and because the electrons push on each other, a push at the power station appears as a push on the end of the wires in your house (demonstrate pushing electrons by putting Sonnet, Madeleine and Eitan side by side (not front to back) in a line pushing pushing against each other's hands. Then you as the power plant push at one end of the line. Your push should propagate through the line and appear at the other end).

Show wires by examining the plug and cords going to all the electrical devices in the house (including lamps in the ceiling)

So electricity is just pushing electrons. So a push at the power station is a push in your house. All your appliances turn the push into some other kind of energy that is useful. Heat from a kettle, the turning of an electric drill (or if you don't have one, show the motor in the vacuum cleaner turning)

Eitan may not get it all on the first pass, but the concepts of energy and electrons are worth getting used to from early on


Tuesday, November 5

Arthur - Stage Next

Arthur and I re connect at Waterloo Station, Platform 17, to walk across London via Euston Station, the Strand, Fleet Street then the City and Shoreditch and finally Bethnal Green, where we catch a train to Richmond. On the way we find a pub.

Arthur, age 59, retired this year following 35 years at TRW and then Northrop Grumman, which acquired TRW, a satellites business, where Arthur one of the lead engineers. He informs me a big challenge, working on a satellite, is the "realisation uncertainty" or knowing what is actually being built. This not so obvious when there are 100s of PhD technicians modifying and tinkering a highly complex objet

Arthur is now working through his reading list and working on a house in Los Angeles while he retains his penthouse flat in London NW1.  Over dinner we discuss Plato's reading of Socrates which became, many believe, the foundation of the Bible.

Meanwhile, a badger-cull aiming to kill 70% of the countryside badgers kills only 65% or 940 badgers. This is the lead BBC story, 11AM.

Tax admin: "Do you know what nationality you are?"
Me: "I'm British."
Tax admin: "That's OK, absolutely fine."
Me: "Well thank you."

“Run with the painters. I always did."
--Kurt Vonnegut

Wednesday, December 24

Christmas Cheek

The perfect bottom we all work so hard for. This one greets visitors (actually the more interesting side greets visitors). Today is Christmas Eve so not surprsingly the kids barge into our room at around 6AM, which is unfortunate because I "indulged" last night at Dukes. Tony had never been and the hotel in St James's offers the best martini in town. Of course the only one to order is vodka and we had several. Did I mention that Tony spent five years in the Navy before business school? Hmmm never wise to find this out at a cocktail lounge. Before, I spend the day with Arthur at the sciences museum- the perfect date place with him (Arthur is a Senior Engineer working on the Pentagon's missile defense shield). He's in town for some chores and his apartment, which otherwise he rents out as he lives in VA. Normally I tear through the exhibitions on my way to the planes or rocket displays but Arthur is fascinated by the early technology like lathes, steam pressures and telescopes. He ponders each joint wondering why it is useful? and this forces me along for the contemplation. I absorb (mostly) what he says, including an explanation of the first computer and a description of his fathers who had a "calculator press" before Sony took over the world. We also discuss other stuff including the necessity of a large military and techy weapons when the most threatful thing could be a van packed with fertiliser. He agrees, but also our government cannot find itself exposed to a strike without any sort of available defense. Hence Star Wars. Unfortunately for him, he finds himself retooling his program based on timing and budgets and sub-contractor budgets which change at the whim of Congress and especially this and next year. We're talking billions of dollars here. All Arthur wants to do is build or fix things, poor fellow.

From Arthur I join Erik at The Woolsley and we catch each other up before he flies to Southern California for the holidays. Unknown to me before recently, his family (Dad's side) bought up the orange groves in of Orange County starting around 1911 and today they have diversified into many areas and funded a university. From SoCal he will ride his motorcycle to Arizona which sounds pretty cool to me. And then Dukes, oh boy.

Sunday, June 12

Arthur Returns

Arthur and I re-union at Track 18, Waterloo Station, to begin a four hour walk along the Thames Path ending up beyond the Isle of Dogs/ Canary Wharf.  It is always extraordinary to uncover different neighbourhoods and small plaques presenting history long forgotten.

Last we saw Arthur, he was retiring from TRW following 30 years of service. His last project : working on an anti-missile defence program targeting ICBMs in Iran, a project employing over 500 engineers from Fairfax to Irvine, California. In my mind's eye, I picture a bunch of bearded software geniuses arriving at a warehouse with an enormous rocket in the middle, allowing them to tinker. Instead, Arthur informs, it is one of the most sterile environments he has ever worked : silent rows of cubicles and offices bathed in unnatural light. His job to ensure the pieces operate together, also known as 'systems engineering.' This leads to a discussion the Wright Brothers and so on and so forth.

Author in California keeping busy rebuilding his house.

Wednesday, December 26


We skate the day before Christmas at Kew Gardens, which is otherwise closed to the public. Eitan is reasonably confident while Madeleine bull-sure: she races onto the ice, legs flying and arms flopping. Sonnet and I take turns circling the rink and holding them up, which in my case is a house of cards. Sonnet's Alaska meant icy summers while I mostly missed the winter time - without much regret, I may add. At some stage the circling becomes a race and Madeleine cracks the whip: "Faster dad! F-A-S-T-E-R !" It all ends in tears, of course, and hot chocolate.

Before the rink, I re-union with Arthur for a three hour walk along the Thames covering Richmond to Petersham. He is in town to give his belated good-byes after returning to the US in March, departing in a flurry of packing and construction. Arthur finished the redesign of his penthouse in about one month - following several years work where he single handedly reconstructed the electrics. Yes, he is an engineer employed by TRW (now Northrop Grumman) for nearly 30 years. His skills have taken him from satellites to communications, where he helped build the UK's police radio mobile communications network, among other things. And now Washington D.C. building the missile defense shield. Arthur and I met in '97 around running before his knees gave out and injuries caught up with us both. Now, as then, we hike London covering various locations and subjects - Author's generous and curious soul allows me to ask the sciences questions I missed at Berkeley and Brown.

Saturday, January 9

Dinner And A Trumpet

Arthur, fiance Ruth, me, Anthony and Sonnet the other night. Photo from Arthur.

So today, my "to do" list something like this: 1. fix garbage disposer (which stopped working one month after the warranty); 2. dismount television monitor and remove hamster-chewed cable; 3. insulate outside pipes (that exploded in the night); 4. Install wireless electricity monitor (because the other brand did not work) and assemble tool-kit. On the last one you can see why. I am learning trial-by-fire where the water "cockstop" located or how to turn off the gas (but this another story). While I diddle, Madeleine at swimming then drama class while Eitan mills about - no football since the arctic weather continues. He knows to stay away from me, too.

Madeleine, who has been campaigning for a trumpet, attends a school lesson and comes home even more jazzed. We have experienced instruments before. The thought of Madeleine playing a trumpet in our house disruptive and I told her so last year probably a bit too directly. Both she and Sonnet pouted but, for Pete's sake, this is not a tool that requires finesse. Besides Sonnet once with me me and not with the terrorists. Better Madeleine play something thoughtful - like a recorder or something. But no, Madeleine has her mind set and so Sonnet takes her to the music store in Richmond to pick one up. She walks in the door just now ... and she is armed.

Madeleine, with her trumpet: "Dad, it seems amazing, but in my first lesson I learned two notes. And I know how to play them." She starts blasting.
Me: "Sonnet, are you out of your mind?"
Sonnet: "Madeleine, don't pay your father any mind."
Sonnet: "Tell Dad to just go jump in the lake."
Madeleine: "Dad, just go jump in the lake."

Tuesday, October 28

Ladies That Lunch

Arthur and I have lunch at The Wolseley then head across the street to the Royal Academy to see the "Miró, Calder, Giacometti, Braque: Aimé Maeght and his artists" exhibition - here is Aimé (centre) with the Chagalls (picture from Maeght archives). Arthur The Engineer is in town for his Penthouse, which he renovated by himself including electrics and everything. Recall his expertise satellite networks. Since moving to Fairfax, VA, 18 months ago with Northrop he reports that life is not quite so interesting - not surprising following ten years in London where he was building the police's secure-mobile communications network, I suppose. So we have a catch-up then see some wonderful art - Calder always strikes me as shallow but I do love the Braques and Miró (who is new to me) and Giacometti. Ah, Giacometti - his "standing woman" and "dog" are remarkable and totally different from, well, anything. Eight identical smaller bronzes on permenant display at the Tate Modern. As for Aimé, his gallery opened in Paris in 1945 and was to become one of the most influential and creative of the twentieth century.

Saturday, August 23

Top Of The World

Eitan makes a new friend, in this case Arthur who is the son of Sabine, the brother of Paul who is the brother to Bridgette who is married to Shelton who is brother of Stan and father of Sonnet. Any case, Arthur is a "special needs" child - mainly, he is too smart of his public school and so causing stress for his parents. Public schools no doubt cater to the lower end which is unfair to the talented youngsters who otherwise might not have an outlet. But this is someone else's battle - oh boy, as I beg and cajole Madeleine to do her Kumon. She's like weeks behind ("I'll do five tomorrow, I promise" which makes me think of Popeye's Wimpy: "I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.") I tell Madeleine if she does not get her asthmatics under control it will only get harder. Her reply: "It is not my fault, dad." Hmmm. Eitan is not Scot free either as I inform him he will feel the fool for not doing his summer-journal, as required, which rests, Dear Father, mostly blank. He rolls his eyes - "what me worry?" - but I am happy to report he opens the book sans bullying to do some writing. As today is officially the last day of holiday, he has a lot of remembering to do.

We have dinner this evening at a surprisingly good Italian near our hotel by the airport. It is Sopranos style, columns and all - a pianest plays on a stage with a movie screen back-drop of a fireplace and fire. Classic.

Thursday, July 13

Oxford Or Bust

With long-time London friend Arthur Garrison, I bike to Oxford or about 100 kilometres. The trip begins from my house where we meet for a coffee, and passes through Richmond, skirts around Heathrow, crosses the Thames three times while traversing the countryside via Marlow, Fierth, Fingerest, Pishill and other charming and small villages then brings us to our destination via a dual carriageway and rather hard ride in. An occassional random red phone booth is spotted. Seven hours later we are at Oxford Startion and the train ride back to London. Arthur, fyi, is a satellite engineer at TRW and thanks to his mapping, compass reading and odometer, we are not lost even once.

Sunday, June 12

The Queen is 90

Arthur and I on the water metro pass by the Tower Bridge as the Queen goes by in her row boat. I'm not kidding. Canons rumble. Fighter jets fly overhead then other military vehicles and finally the Blue Eagles (I think) who cover the sky in blue, red and white. It's Her Majesty's 90th.

The country celebrates with block parties and BBQs and a million people show up at the Pall Mall. A celebration and a touch of rain ? Carry on.

Monday, January 26


I wake up early Sunday in Manhattan and, feeling disoriented from jet lag and lack of sleep, do what I always do in these circumstances: put on my running shoes and hit the road. In this case, it is a short hop from the Four Seasons to Central Park where I am greeted by 1000s of runners completing a half-marathon. I love the company which inspires me to go for a full loop, which passes in a New York minute. This is my second favourites place to run after Tilden Park.

From the Guggenheim website (abbreviated):
In June 1943, Frank Lloyd Wright received a letter from Hilla Rebay, the art advisor to Solomon R. Guggenheim, asking the architect to design a new building to house Guggenheim's four-year-old Museum of Non-Objective Painting. The project evolved into a complex struggle pitting the architect against his clients, city officials, the art world, and public opinion. Both Guggenheim and Wright would die before the building's 1959 completion.

Wright made no secret of his disenchantment with Guggenheim's choice of New York for his museum: "I can think of several more desirable places in the world to build his great museum," Wright wrote in 1949 to Arthur Holden, "but we will have to try New York." To Wright, the city was overbuilt, overpopulated, and lacked architectural merit.

Still, he proceeded with his client's wishes, considering locations on 36th Street, 54th Street, and Park Avenue (all in Manhattan), as well as in the Riverdale section of the Bronx, before settling on the present site on Fifth Avenue between 88th and 89th Streets. Its proximity to Central Park was key: the museum is an embodiment of Wright's attempts to render the inherent plasticity of organic forms in architecture.

Sunday, August 3

Kansas City Missouri

A boy in transition
We pull in to Kansas City and decamp at the hotel, which means clothes and debris everywhere.

Sonnet meets her ancient dear friend Kevin, who drives to us from St Louis.  Kevin and Sonnet worked together at I. Magnin in San Francisco in those post college days when life was but a goof. These are the best friendships.

I have the Shakespeares solo so we go for a bike ride along the Missouri River, swim at the hotel pool then, treat-of-treats, Arthur Bryant's BBQ for dinner, the best in Kansas City and anywhere (says Calvin Trillin : "the single best restaurant in the world"). Barak Obama lunched here three days ago. Sonnet and I at Bryant's in 1997 when driving across the country and not much has changed - it has cleaned up a bit perhaps but the pulled pork as good as it ever was. The kids share a full rack of ribs and a plate of fries, washed down with lemonade. It's a restaurant without pretencion , where everybody enjoying themselves, and beats any of London's Michelin stars, hands down.

Sunday, June 23

Red House

The Red House, on the corner of York Ave, designed by architect Arthur Young and built in 1904 when there was surely nothing else around.  Since we are on a hilltop, the views of the river (now not visible) would have been superb. It remains a convenient several hundred yards into Richmond Park. Yours for £7M.

Wednesday, January 18


John Martin's Arthur and Aegle in the Happy Valley based on an Arthurian legend of Aegle’s last night on earth. Pictured, from the Tate Britain collection.

Today is one of those collectives bummers shared by commuters. I am late from the house and it starts raining  (me, in suit, no umbrella). The train over-crowded and humid so I stand perspiring , jammed against a woman reading Farsi on her phone app, wishing the sweat down my back would go away. Wishing I was anywhere else. Each stop brings more people who implore us to "move in!" or "Move to the middle!" As, if.  I make eye contact with the blond and we are both equally uncomfortable when this happens for the fifth time. No pick-up scene, this. I have seen people yell at each other in similar circumstances.

By Clapham Jnct I consider ditching my first meeting. Vauxhall, where I finally exit , finds a 50-foot line to enter the Underground.  I see not one smiling face. Buying an umbrella at Victoria, I am told that I must spend ten-pounds to use my debit card. The purchase price : $9.75.  We actually discuss this. I add some shoelaces to my purchase. It is not 9AM.

Madeleine: "Did you know that it takes seven red ants to kill a butterfly?"
Me: "That's nice, Dear."

Monday, July 25

Mt Equinox And A Bit Of The Revolutionary War

Sonnet, Katie, Eitan and I go for a "gentle walk" and end up climbing 3,800 ft Equinox Mountain instead. Equinox the highest peak of the Taconic Range. Starting from Manchester, it is straight up followed by straight down , leaving us perspired, exhausted and achy - the downward trek taxes muscles I knew not of. The peak marked by an ancient hotel which, Larry tells me, closed 15 years ago. On a winter's day it might be the Overlook Hotel. Me, I follow up with a three-hour nap (not 30 anymore dude) and go to bed at 9PM which vexes Sonnet at 4AM as I wake her to discuss house-design. Instead of fighting me, we go for a sunrise walk.

A signage at the trail head in Manchester:
"The Revolutionary War. Ethan Allen crossed Lake Champlain to capture Fort Ticonderoga on May 10, 1775 for "America's First Victory." Allen's expedition passed through here on May 5, 1775. Nathan Beman from Manchester guided the expedition into the fort: John Roberts of Manchester was the head of the expedition's largest immediate family. In 1777, after evacuating Ft. Ti and Mount Independence, Gen. Arthur St Claire traveled to the Saratoga area via Manchester. The first meeting of the council of Safety (Vermont's initial government) were at the original Marsh Tavern (on site of the south wing of the Equinox). In Manchester, Gen. John Stark declined orders from Gen. Benjamin Lincoln and opted to go to Bennington. Stark's NH troops and Seth Warner's "Green Mountain Boys" camped in Manchester prior to the battle of Bennington victory on August 16, 1777.
--Vermont Division for Historic Preservation, 2011

Saturday, November 27

Wedding Post

Sophie, in the backseat and our neighbor Helen's (pictured, center) daughter, gets hitched. I grab my camera and join the neighborhood who line up to wish her well and good luck. Helen herself married to Martin who was born in the house pictured - Martin 80 or so and his mum a Wimbledon champion so he is a member of the club. Not too many people may claim that convenience. Martin knows more about stuff than most people I know and maybe as much as Arthur - on occasion Martin and I have discussed tree-pruning, WWII bombing strategies and gas lamps, which were across London until '64 when replaced by electrics. Helen has become our go-to in case of emergency : like several weeks ago when Aneta and I got our languages mixed up and Madeleine at home, solo, for the afternoon. After a while she marched herself across the yard, knocked on Helen's door, and announced she had been "Forgotten." Inside a moment I get a text on my mobile and a call at work. Madeleine very cool about the whole thing - no tears - but I know she was pretty upset especially since she has seen "Home Alone" and "Home Alone II."

I do five-hours of outside work which I heartily enjoy but today freezing and my hands numb by the end. Since it may snow yet I wanted to get the piles bagged.

Tuesday, June 29

On Wireless Charging

PowerKiss, a Finnish company, recently launched a line of products with small receivers that plug into handheld devices (the Ring) and an electrical transmitter built into a piece of furniture (the Heart), pictured. When a device is placed on the table it charges wirelessly by using a resonating field induction that creates an electromagnetic field around the Heart transmitter. The Ring receiver adapts the current produced by the field to the requirements of the mobile device. Induction of this kind has a short range so the transmitter and receiver must be close together.

Arthur and I, on a long London walk, once discussed whether a wireless charge would one day be possible. He noted this impossible since a charge must be transferred via a conducting path of some sort. Here is what he says about PowerKiss:

"This is a clever idea and I wonder if it will really take off. You have to convince people to buy the receiver thingie. And you have to convince furniture manufacturers to build the wires into the furniture! I think when we talked about this previously, the idea was whether you could "beam" energy around across distances and that turns out to be very difficult. Radar dishes and lasers do indeed beam energy from one place to another, but it's hard to recover the energy and use it at the other end. And a person who gets in the way suffers bad side effects like cancer or just getting burned.

What they're doing here is putting you and your electronics inside a big electric field. Maybe a little bit analogous with those wires they bury in the asphalt at intersections to detect when cars are stopped at the lights, or your electric toothbrush which charges when you put it in the stand. I'm surprised they can get enough energy into the little receiver to charge a phone. Maybe over a long period of time you can charge it.

We're not talking about a lot of energy to run a phone (as evidenced by the tiny battery).


Saturday, March 13


Our neighbours Helen and Martin have a bouncer in their backyard, pictured, which receives a joyous whoop! from the Shakespeares. They are invited to give it a test-run. Eitan says, looking at the photo, "I think it was really fun and big. Uhhhh" (his contented sigh similar, dear reader, to an extra serving of desert and I raise an eyebrow). Martin meanwhile an electrical engineer and I admire the wiring which he did on his own. In the dining room, for instance, a master control connects 16 switches to each ceiling light - or, as Martin says, "to confuse everybody." Me, I think it is genus. It reminds me of Arthur. Their house has all sorts of fun peculiarities like the fold-down stools in the kitchen or the bunson burner like stove. They also have a wonderful border collie, my favorite dog ever, and a pet rat (Madeleine notes that the cage a good one - she should know ). Helen and Martin's daughter engaged yesterday - bravo.

Thursday, January 28


Now this is how a skyscraper should look. Powerful. Direct. Pointy. None of the new fangled designs with their space age materials compare. Prince Charles agrees BTW.

I am fascinated by the visible wiring everywhere in the New York subway - I mean, does it serve some purpose? Here is what Arthur says: "This question reminds me of when we were trying to put the police radios down in the tunnels of the London Underground. Somebody important (can't remember who) said the London Underground was a victorian rail system run by a Victorian organization.

"In other words a worn out antiquated system run by worn out antiquated people. The other thing I learned was that LU had very little information about what was actually down in the tunnels. In modern engineering, we call this "configuration control", which is the business of understanding how your equipment is configured. This can be challenging when you have a large system spread out geographically with many people working on it. People have to keep accurate records or you pretty quickly lose control. Apparently, it was not uncommon for crews to go into the tunnels at night (the window of opportunity is very short from about 1:00 to 5:00am) to do installations or repairs and discover that the equipment or layout of the equipment that they went to work on didn't match the drawings and they didn't have the right parts to make the repair or the new equipment wouldn't fit where it was planned.

"So to answer your question, I suspect most of the wiring is associated with signaling, that is, determining where trains are (sensors in the tracks) and controlling the "points" or switches and also the safety control systems that can stop a train that runs a red light. There's probably also various communication links between the stations.

"But it's also possible that as new systems are installed, which probably use far less wires, the old stuff is just left in place. Maybe you could reach out of the window and snip a wire to see what happens?

"And one last thing which I thought was a pretty neat piece of trivia. When the fiber-optic boom hit, entrepreneurs were looking for ways to run major fiber trunk lines across the UK and somebody realized that just about the only pieces of land that provided continuous access over long distances were the rail lines. So they all leased space along the sides of the rail lines. "

God bless.

Thursday, August 20


Update: My mobile-phone photo the the top of the 226 stair knoll (I counted) on the site of the battle, and the famous La Butte du Lion. Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington said of it "They have spoiled my Battlefield." But it offers a panoramic view and puts one in the mind of past actions.

I am in Waterloo this morning and ask a receptionist for advise on things to see before the airport. She advises the battlefield and I thank her for her good idea, which is kind of like being told to see the Golden Gate Bridge when in San Francisco. Or Big Ben in London. So there we go to the or about eight miles Southeast of Brussels .

Waterloo marks to the defeat of Napoleon to the Seventh Coalition, including an Anglo-Allied army under the command of the Duke of Wellington and a Prussian Army under Gebhard von Blucher. It was a decisive ass kicking and ended Napoleon's rule as the French emperor, and the end of his Hundred Days post exile. I was reading about this only last week in Patrick O'Brien's 19th book of his Master and Commander series (Captain Jack ecstatic that Napoleon returns giving him his raison d'etre, even if only for a short while).

Upon Napoleon's return to power in 1815, many states that had opposed him formed the Seventh Coalition and began to mobilise armies. Two large forces under Wellington and von Blücher assembled close to the northeastern border of France. Napoleon chose to attack in the hope of destroying them before they could join in a coordinated invasion of France with other members of the Coalition. And so: Waterloo. According to Wellington, the battle was "the nearest-run thing you ever saw in your life."

Napoleon delayed giving battle until noon to allow the ground to dry. Wellington's army, positioned across the Brussels road on the Mont St Jean escarpment, withstood repeated attacks by the French, until, in the evening, the Prussians arrived in force and broke through Napoleon's right flank. At that moment, Wellington's Anglo-allied army counter-attacked and drove the French army in disorder from the field. Pursuing Coalition forces entered France and restored Louis XVIII to the French throne. Napoleon abdicated, surrendered to the British, and was exiled to Saint Helena, where he died in 1821.

"All I want to know is where I am going to die so I will never go there."

--Warren Buffet