Bill Johnston is such a great writer! Check this out!
The letter home arrives to a flatfooted father whose Uncle had never spoken of sitting in a hole in the mud, curled into a ball, helmet and teeth and hands clattering to the tune of incoming shells
And the letter arrives from a man with one arm who cannot shake with his right.
The father does not go hunting next season
He buys his meat all winter from the butchers with the widows, and they smile hollow smiles, smiles that will fill themselves with time and the spring.
Somewhere a soldier dies without permission
And three old men will never forget his name although they know new recruits only by the name green until they’ve proven they can survive a thing or two
Somewhere a child soldier dies without permission
A stray shot while boiling oranges still hard
attrocity and addiction and aversion and attack, attack, attack
No less a…
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