On August 3, 1946, Sir Alexander Maxwell, a man described by his superiors as of calm assurance, “unruffled amidst all the alarms and excursions that periodically shake a ministry of public order”, carried out what was for him an entirely standard task requiring little effort and even less thought. One that was a turning point in my life, though it took place 16 years before I was born.
The task was to sign the certificate of naturalisation that, 75 years ago this week, allowed the first member of my family, my maternal grandfather, to become British. Five days after Sir Alexander appended his signature, Alfred Wiener attended the office of a commissioner for oaths in London’s Baker Street and swore an oath of allegiance to