Mary waved me off from the platform. I could feel her excitement as the train began to gather speed. “I think you're wonderful.” she called out as she hopped from one foot to the other, her copper curls bouncing. I lifted my hand in a half wave, then fell back into my seat. Mary loved my uniform. She said I looked handsome and she was proud of me. I felt sick at the prospect of killing another human being. I believed in the sanctity of life, but like a coward, when I opened the newspaper on that fateful morning and the white feather fell out, I knew I had no choice. I would never be able to save face unless I joined the madness of the western front.
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