If you had a roll call on campus or military parade or on a multi-authored, multi-nationed blogsite there would be a variety of responses. Twas not always so. Previously, the world was a lot bigger and less integrated.
For instance, at my first year class at secondary school there were thirty of us on the register. All with nondescript names like Malcolm, Gordon or Roger. Tell a lie, there was one called Sebastian that we liked to stick pencils into; none of us were saints in those days. Having similar traits we were practically automatons. We were one living entity. Continue reading “The War Journal: Break the Chain”
Boadicea's Chariot 