Riding on horses those pale, pinched faces in times where one year became ten in the lines on their haggard faces. The hard battlefield opened…
Riding on horses those pale, pinched faces in times where one year became ten in the lines on their haggard faces. The hard battlefield opened…
Oh that calm sea the cliffs of England near distant perpetual lull of incoming tides sand and pebbles dance if you listen you can hear…
There you are enveloped in mists on that sad, beautiful battlefield far removed now from that bloodiest day in history attacks, counterattacks tragedy at Sunken…