Tortured Memories

My Battle of Algiers: A Memoir, by Ted Morgan (Collins, 304 pp., $24.95)

A GENTLE breeze off the Mediterranean helped cool Algiers on that sunny late-summer afternoon. It was 1956, and a pale, blond law student strolled along the chic Rue d’Isly. She stopped at the Milk Bar, entered, and ordered a sherbet. A few blocks away, her friend, a pretty brunette, sat in a café, chatting with her mother. Around 6:15, the women settled their bills and departed, leaving behind their beach bags. Fifteen minutes later, the bombs exploded. Ten bystanders were crippled, two were killed; the victims ranged in age from 13 to 20. The Battle of Algiers was entered, and the era of modern urban terrorism had begun.

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Christopher Levenick

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My Battle of Algiers: A Memoir, by Ted Morgan (Collins, 304 pp., $24.95)

A GENTLE breeze off the Mediterranean helped cool Algiers on that sunny late-summer afternoon. It was 1956, and a pale, blond law student strolled along the chic Rue d’Isly. She stopped at the Milk Bar, entered, and ordered a sherbet. A few blocks away, her friend, a pretty brunette, sat in a café, chatting with her mother. Around 6:15, the women settled their bills and departed, leaving behind their beach bags. Fifteen minutes later, the bombs exploded. Ten bystanders were crippled, two were killed; the victims ranged in age from 13 to 20. The Battle of Algiers was entered, and the era of modern urban terrorism had begun.