"I can imagine the earth itself is angry, perhaps revengeful. Does it not bear the imprint of horses, of caissons, the years and years of marching feet? Does it not resent the waste of its topsoil, subsoil in the six thousand miles of trenches dug by the French army during World War I, and another six thousand miles by the British? German trenches were like an interlocked city, with levels, compartments, floorings. Do we owe the earth something, and how can the debt be acknowledged? It is as if the enemy has become the earth itself. What do the reports say: 'Not a mile gained'; 'no ground taken.' And the officers shout: 'Hold your ground!' 'No-man's-land' states the truth: the earth does not belong to us.
"Perhaps the cessation of hostilities begins with calming the earth, letting it rest in peace, giving the ground below its due with each footfall, our heads, now and then, slightly bowed, looking down. Maybe, before 'going off ' to war and sending in the Marines, we should consult the planet, and learn from it patience and slowness."
