She put a skinny hand on my arm.
“Will it go on forever, this war? Until all the men are killed?”
“Not so long as that, Madame. Some men will be left alive. The very old and the very young, and the lucky ones, and those behind the lines.”
“The Germans are losing many men, Monsieur?”
“Heaps, Madame. I have seen their bodies strewn about the fields.”
“Ah, that is good! I hope all German women will lose their sons, as I have lost mine.”
“Where was that, Madame?”
“Over there.”
She pointed up the Somme.
“He was a good son. A fine boy. It seems only yesterday he lay at my breast. My man weeps for him. They were good comrades.”