‘Hugo John Laurier, Second Rifle Brigade.’
Wounded and missing . . . wounded and missing . . . wounded and missing . . .
I thought:
‘It is not true . . . it is quite impossible . . .’
I thought:
‘It is quite certain that there must be a mistake . . .’
I thought:
‘. . . But the war is over now . . . so nearly over . . . that could not happen now . . .’
I stared at the words till my eyes ached. They seemed to grow larger and darker than the other words on the page.
I had not expected it.