Lede-ing Ladies

Cuba, 1943. Ernest Hemingway is unhappy. Drinking, fishing, hunting German subs with his private navy: Nothing cheers him because Martha Gellhorn is at the Italian front, and he is not. “Are you a war correspondent,” he demands, “or wife in my bed?” Gellhorn dodges the question. When they divorce two years later, she will have covered D-Day and Monte Cassino, flown a combat mission over Germany, and seen Dachau liberated. She used to be Hemingway’s golden consort, the Carole Lombard to his Clark Gable. Now she is famous, too.