On 1 August 1937, thousands of people lined the streets of Paris to watch the funeral cortege of a slight, fair, very pretty 26-year-old war photographer called Gerda Taro on its way to the Père Lachaise Cemetery. A band played Chopin’s funeral march. Taro’s tombstone was designed by Giacometti. Her picture was on the front cover of every magazine; inside, she was referred to as a new Joan of Arc, a martyr and a genius. Then, as the Second World War swept across Europe, Taro was forgotten, becoming little more than a footnote in the life of her more famous lover, the photographer Robert Capa.