I'm currently reading Martin Gilbert's "The First World War: A Complete History". It's been a great read so far. Although there are very many sad and tragic par

I'm currently reading Martin Gilbert's "The First World War: A Complete History". It's been a great read so far. Although there are very many sad and tragic parts, one section put tears in my eyes: “As [Friedrich] Feuchtinger’s regiment reached the Russian trenches, the Russians turned to flee. One of them, being closely chased, and apparently without his rifle, stopped all of a sudden, turned round, held out his right hand, and put his left hand into his tunic pocket. As he did so, Feuchtinger plunged in his bayonet. ‘I see his blood redden his uniform, hear him moan and groan as he twists with the bayonet in his young body. I am seized with terror. I throw myself down, crawl to him, wanting to help him. But he is dead. I pull my blood-stained bayonet from the dead body. Wanting to fold his hands, I see in the left hand a crumpled photo of his wife and child.”