This post is dedicated to the new victims of the Great War: our families. My wife and my (now 9-year old) daughter are obliged to live with our passion, which means that our home is full with dusty books, photographs, military maps, and even uniforms (which were for a while in our closet).
This means too that a good part of the vacation time is dedicated to the visit of battlefields and war cemeteries. We almost never go in a new place by chance, as there’s always a link with the Great War. They know that our journeys can be marked by several stops, if some monuments are spotted.
This means that a (good) part of the home budget is dedicated to this passion and that we in fact don’t live in 2012, but some time between 1914 and 1918. But they accept it because they love us and they…
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