It was the contrast which tore at him [Sir Stewart Gore-Browne]. Often the externals, the rows of trees, the white road into the distance, the cosy inns where buxom peasant girls served up vast omelets and jugs of wine, and the fields in the orange and red sunset, were the same as if he had been making a motor trip in this land he so loved, with Ethel. Yet not a mile away, or sometimes in the very villages themselves, were mangled bodies and rubble and blood.
His friend Kerr was just one of almost 10 million men who had lost their lives so far. Numbers beyond comprehension, he had written to Nunk. Surely if men are sufficient masters of things to build a Howitzer they ought to know better than to destroy each other with it.
Source:
Lamb, Christina. “Part One: 1914-1927, Chapter 4.” The Africa House: The True Story of An English Gentleman and His African Dream. Harper Collins Publishers, 2004. 56. Print.
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