LONDON -- The little brown book had a less-than-catchy title: "Instructions for American Servicemen in Britain 1942." But inside the cardboard covers was some fascinating history.

I was browsing in a bookstore in Cambridge the other day when I came across this gem, a reproduction of the pamphlet issued by the U.S. War Department to GIs who were "overpaid, oversexed and over here." My first thought was that it would have been the perfect stocking-stuffer for my late stepfather, Harry Richardson.

Like many World War II veterans, "Rich" was reticent about his combat experiences. But he enjoyed reminiscing about his downtime as an American GI in England. When I told him 30-odd years ago that I would be studying in England, he warned me to be on the lookout for people who resembled him. "Just a joke," he assured my mother.

The possibility that American GIs might cramp the romantic style of British servicemen is a prominent theme in the War Department pamphlet. "You will naturally be interested in getting to know your opposite number, the British soldier, the 'Tommy' you have heard and read about," the pamphlet notes. "You can understand that two actions on your part will slow up the friendship -- swiping his girl and not appreciating what his army has been up against. Yes, and rubbing it in that you are better paid than he is."

That's actually three things, and according to my stepfather all of those injunctions were honored in the breach. But as far as I know he never flouted another piece of advice in the book: "NEVER criticize the King or Queen."

The existence of the Royal Family and the English nobility obviously posed a problem for the compilers of the War Department pamphlet. Under the heading "BRITAIN THE CRADLE OF DEMOCRACY," the authors write: "Although you'll read in the papers about 'lords' and 'sirs,' England is still one of the great democracies." In other words, pay no attention to that man on the throne.

How times have changed since 1942 -- or have they?

Divorces and dalliances may have tarnished the monarchy, and some hereditary members of the House of Lords have been deprived of their right to vote. Yet during my two weeks here the media seemed as fixated as ever on those "lords" and "sirs" the War Department pamphlet tried so hard to rationalize.

Both print and broadcast media have trumpeted Prince Charles' views about global warming and lavished attention on Prince William's new role as president of the Football (Soccer) Association and his plans to attend Sandhurst, the elite military academy. Newspapers of all ideological hues have covered the impending visit to America of Charles and his consort Camilla, a k a the Duchess of Cornwall.

On this visit I have had lunch with two Americans who were among 70 Yanks invited to schmooze with C and C at Clarence House as part of the run-up to the couple's American tour. Obviously the British government thinks it is important the future king and his wife be up to speed on what Americans are thinking.

But do Americans care what the royals think? Or do the children and grandchildren of the Greatest Generation harbor the republican resentment of crowned heads that some of their fighting forbears felt? Somehow I can't see Jon Stewart or David Letterman heeding the War Department's directive NEVER to criticize the Royal Family.

Of course, that advice came in the context of a world war in which Britain and the United States were allies. As the War Department pamphlet says: "It is always impolite to criticize your hosts; it is militarily stupid to criticize your allies."

On Thursday I attended the London premiere of "Clouds of War," a concert to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the end of World War II. "Clouds" is a collaboration between the composer Michael Stimpson and my old friend Simon Rae, a poet and playwright whose libretto stands on its own as an astringent but poignant chronicle of the milestones in the war that brought Yanks and Tommies together.

My favorite passage is titled "Battle in the Air" in which the chorus sings:

The reference to the "the cricket field" didn't surprise me. In addition to being a poet, Simon is, as they say here, a keen cricketer and the author of the definitive biography of W.G. Grace, the father of modern cricket. It shouldn't surprise me that this poetic Brit would plug his favorite game. The War Department pamphlet informs Americans that "THE BRITISH LIKE SPORTS," while warning in reference to cricket that "you have to know the fine points of the game to know what is going on."

The premiere of "Clouds of War" was a benefit for a charity that serves British veterans and their families. But it also had a royal blessing: The program announced that the concert would be held "in the presence of His Royal Highness Prince Michael of Kent," Queen Elizabeth's cousin.

This is the sort of useful function that is often cited by defenders of the monarchy: Like his cousin and her children and grandchildren, Prince Michael was representing the nation, not a political party, whereas the appearance of President Bush at a memorial concert would have divisive political overtones.

I think I spotted the prince in the bar, but if so it was the briefest brush with royalty, nothing to compete with an invitation to brief Charles and Camilla about the Supreme Court or Scooter Libby. Maybe next time.