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Culloden, Scotland. April 1746 "All around was the awful sound of moaning. It was not just mournful, the sound of immense suffering, the cries of dying men. The battle had waged on, and the day was far spent. In dirt and blood, the soldiers waded on. Horizontal rain, snow and wind made the normal battle conditions much worse. Near the edge of the field I stood holding a gun, pointing it at the lad who had once been my best friend. He was dressed in the red coat of a government soldier; I was not." (David Holdsworth, Angelos) |
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"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break." Shakespeare, Macbeth |
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