Just before 11 o'clock, I'll get up out of my chair and stare out at our village square. It's rainy now, the tarmac is drenched and there is traffic moving from all directions.
The church clock will strike eleven and all will go quiet, although the cars will still trundle through and people will still go about their daily lives.
I'll try to imagine the square one hundred years ago, on 5 August 1915, when farmers brought their horses, their much-loved horses, to be commandeered to help in the war effort.
And so the horrors continue.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
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