PREVIEW
... e, not applause.
One squad had failed to breach a mock farmhouse door, their boots slipping on wet stone as they tried to swing the butt ends of their Lebel rifles against a wooden frame reinforced with old sandbags.
Another squad had frozen in the trench-clearing exercise five men in a narrow earthen corridor.
Rifles too long for the angles, knocking into each other like mismatched puppets.
One stumbled.
One cursed.
No one fired.
Moreau ha ...
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