As I stand here gazing at the calm waves, I think about my grandmother, Maude. A lovely woman who was a nurse during the second World War. She was twenty-three at the time. I can still remember the sadness in her eyes when she spoke of the young soldiers who died. There was one particular soldier whom she would never forget. Every time she talked about him, her voice broke and tears sprang to her eyes.
“I will never forget that boy,” she said. “He must have been about seventeen years old. He had a boyish face. I thought to myself, it’s a pity that someone so young was fighting in this terrible war.
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