Not everyone’s World War II was hell: E. Waugh, living large in Yugoslavia in 1945

I was checking something about the damnable Randolph Churchill in the letters of Evelyn Waugh and noticed that in January 1945, Waugh wrote to his wife Laura from Dubrovnik that "I do not think there is any military appointment so congenial — good architecture, good food, wine, blameless life, and for once in my life a sense of being very popular." (The novelist’s mission was distributing food to the needy, but he slipped a lot of it to Catholic religious organizations who were being persecuted by Tito’s Communist partisans.)  

BTW, Waugh’s Scoop is still the best novel ever written about being a war correspondent. Also the funniest. His novels about World War II are also good.