““An angry buzzin’ start to build among us. We cuss out the Boche proper, swearin’ to take revenge for all they done, for each and every one of these terrible wounds we see before us. A soldier sittin’ on the ground look up, his eyes so weary there ain’t enough sleep in all the world to take the tiredness from them. ‘We did the same to them,’ he say quietly. Ain’t no boastin’ in his voice, no anger, ain’t much of anythin’ at all, only a long, drawn-out emptiness.””
