Subject: Re:

From: "Duncan Harrington" <[email-masked]>
Date: Sat, 13 Oct 2007 20:42:57 +0200

Another turn and Soissons was hidden from view by a woodland.
along a broad, fine road out of Paris, at first; a road which our cars
A Belgian woman whose father was one of Belgium's leading
assertion that he was suffering little pain. The drizzling rain was chilly.
a drum, four German shells burst in line up in the region where we
against von Tirpitz's "unter See" boats, as was illustrated by one of
and see more Dreadnoughts going by. A spectator had not realized
adequate; conditions were filthy; it was shameful. They were going to
Albert's face or the black, yellow and red from Belgian buttonholes!
affection glowing in their eyes. For these were their own--their soldiers
and how precious is that old English saying that a man's house is his
An earthquake merely shakes down houses. The shells had done a
and borne in the ether by the wireless of telepathy was something
always the Commander-in-Chief's flagship. Our handy, agile
and elan which were cheering to the ears of those who had to remain
associations who considered me worthy to be the accredited
At the moment there was no firing in the vicinity. Faintly I heard the
At another wire-end someone was spotting the bursts. Perhaps he
about he might draw conclusions and pass the wireless word to send
aeroplanes. They had daily baths; they did their weekly laundry,