- We were losing the war. Both sides were.
- Before this all started he worked in a hardware shop. Now he was in a bloody field in bloody France gazing across a muddy hellhole in the hope of seeing Jerry gazing back at him. One month ago twelve men – little more than boys – had been thrust together into this trench. Now there were eight, and they didn’t ask what had happened to the poor sods who’d dug it.
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