Here the Fields Bleed

War; the men who fought in it knew its death, its humour, its beauty, its terror. In Here the Fields Bleed, a voice from the past speaks to the present, those who knew speak to those who need to know. Extraordinary, unheeded, prophetic words from 1915, for example:
“If our heroes have bled here and gone to their graves without the nation being rejuvenated, glorified, spiritually renewed… then woe betide the entire world. Then we will hear a new storm… From the nations in this storm, tears will fall, and drops of blood, like streaming rain.”
“A 94-year-old man walks past, blind, holding tightly onto a wheelbarrow with one hand. I think about my 80-year-old mother and the Russian invasion of Eastern Prussia, and my thoughts accompany the blind refugee into his misery.
Night spreads its darkness over the earth and hides the misery of so many people from our eyes. They walk along and cry…”
These are the letters of life and death from one man fighting in his merciless war.