The past speaks to us in many and oft-surprising ways. So it is with preserved flowers, sent many crescent moons ago by battling soldiers in letters. Those flowers were little bits of life, beauty and hope, transcending the darkness of humanity’s ugliest and most unhinged hours. Soldiers faced the pervasive odour of death that... read full story
"From the trenches & shell holes, My dear, wee Celia, With much love and lots of kisses, from Daddy."