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Omnes homines fratres sunt*

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Though in the heat of battle, my foe was as determined and duty bound to kill me as I was to kill him, I will be magnanimous in my victory, for that is what I went into battle for. So as my vanquished ‘enemy’ and I share a cigarette, a rat pack or creased and faded pictures of our sweethearts, it’s really just two soldiers talking in a copse within a wood, a bend in a trench, or a tent in the desert, their uniforms caked with the same mud and dust, their wounds oozing the same blood, their brows stained with the same sweat, their cheeks streaked with the same tears. The measure of honour is not in our victory: It is in how we treat the defeated. A remnant of Der Atlantikwall , a seaward-facing command bunker in the dunes at IJmuiden, the Netherlands. Inspired by the sentiments of Marshal Georgy Konstantinovich Zhukov, defender of Moscow (1941), reliever of St. Petersburg (Leningrad) (1944), liberator of Berlin (1945) etc. - AMB * Latin: All men are b