A hundred yards farther brought them to the cross-roads.
"Here you must go back, Monroe."
Horace looked wistfully at the quiet road ahead of him, winding peacefully under its green cloud of trees.
"I've never been in a war," he said. "I do want to see a little bit of this one!"
Courtesy of "The Graphic."
Smoke, the Herald of Death.
A 12-inch howitzer behind the British lines on the Somme, smashing the German lines several miles away.
"Count yourself happy," said the old reservist solemnly, "for every hour of your life up to this time that has been free from sight or sound of war. You—"