A local hero branded a coward. A community ravished by war. A nation mourns the many fallen without graves at the tomb of the Unknown Warrior.
One night, as a full moon illuminated a battlefield and the sound of shells pounding the muddy waterlogged earth slowly faded, I saw a man moving in the shadows in no man’s land. Three years later, I encountered him again under very different circumstances. The ‘war to end all wars’ had finished. Its completion had cut short the stories of so many and uncovered one that needed a narrator—to reveal a truth and heal the wounds of broken survivors—providence had chosen me—the least likely to be believed.
