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It was 9.30 on the morning of March 30, Holy Saturday, 1918. He had somehow survived four years of shell and bullet and privation, and Passchendaele, but now, in the little hamlet of Castel, not 10 miles south-west of Amiens,....
Blog Post Dated: March 23, 2008 8:34 AM | Permalink
Wow.... Verry kewl.
March 24, 2008 8:08 PM
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