English history has often felt the iron grip of war, but what personally makes my skin crawl is the pervasive sense of victimhood, and the pride with which the English present their own bloody past.

Walking through the Tower of London is a fine example of this. The exhibits take great pains to bemoan the exile of the British King and the travesty that was the destruction of his most holy regalia by outside forces (an entire keep is dedicated to driving this single point home) while simultaneously (and without any sense of self-awareness) showcasing an entire suite of upbeat exhibits celebrating the power of the ancient British army showcasing the myriad villages they massacred, burnt, and looted for the glory of the empire.

Fair enough, "God likes it when I do it, but not when you do it." was is an age old the mantra.

My eye-rolling chuckle at the antics of ancient jingoism graduated into a genuine sense of unease the first time I visited the Imperial War Museum. While exploring a massive full-floor exhibit about the strength and pluck of the British people in the face of the horrors inflicted upon them it can be easy to forget the (conveniently) unmentioned fact that it was indeed the British who actively built an antagonistic rivalry with both France and Germany, interfered with trade essential to their survival as Nations, formed war pacts with the countries that surrounded their borders by promising military conquest, and joined Russia in actively provoking Serbia into declaring open war against Germany to begin with. A bit like starving and abusing an Eagle for years then being surprised and crying foul when it lashes out when you go in for the kill.

It is also quite disquieting to read the immortalized quotes of "great" generals claiming such "heroic" things as, "Gas is a cowards weapon! But since they have deigned to show us they're nothing more than impetuous barbarians we shall treat them as such and throw their own weapons back at them ten fold!" carved into into bronze and held aloft on beautiful plaques praising their leadership.

I don’t mean to imply that the devastating apocalypse of World War One was a creation of the English alone. Certainly not. But their hands are far from clean. The museum screams of a nation attempting to use victory as an excuse to re-write its own historical narrative to appear as the put-upon victim turned gallant champion by trial, and it is deeply disquieting.

Unsettling in a somewhat different flavor is the shining pride that oozes from the many plaques and stories extolling the great triumphs and tribulations of the Second World War, and the glorious victory of the legendary Churchill. Statues to his honor line many streets, his image can be seen adorned upon the wall of many a pub and every museum, art exhibit and bookstore has an entire floor dedicated to his honor... even where such a thing would be otherwise out of place.

Perhaps this is a view point exclusive to me as an American, and perhaps I am simple miseducated on the subject... but to my understanding Britain didn't win the war at all. It barely survived it. English ships were routinely sunk . German U-boats embargoed the food supply of the entire nation and starved the population to near collapse. London districts were regularly leveled without resistance by bombs and artillery shells while civilians bled. The entirety of both the military and government were being run by a little under 30 men in a storage cellar under bombardment, praying each day that the roof wouldn't give out and bury them all. This is not hyperbole.

Britain was rescued from the war. The English were picked up off the mat and carried to the finish line on the backs of American and Australian soldiers.

Even before the USA's commitment of troops to Europe, it was our food and guns that allowed the English hold on as long as they did. After all, it was by the English's continued negligence that Hitler was able to wipe out every other possible national trade partner before launching an attack on sovereign soil in earnest.

It was our textiles and our transports that clothed and moved their men. And after London was a smoldering pile of rubble, it was American troops and Russian tanks that were able to break Hitler's momentum and push him back to Berlin. Where then, do these proud boasts of Britain's nigh impervious strength and strategic leadership come from?

I don't mean to speak ill of the dead, nor do I wish to flatter America. Lord knows I hold no endearment for our own military history or ethos. It is a display of admirable tenacity that London still stands at all.

My point is simply that Churchill's legacy wasn't winning the war. His legacy was in keeping his half scuttled ship afloat long enough for a rescue party to throw a lifeline. This alone was still a herculean task that demands respect, but I can't help but feel that the overwhelming pride in his personal victory over the Axis powers that radiates from these museums feels somewhat misplaced.