Oddly enough, my introduction to the brutality and savagery of war came through the eyes of a young German, Erich Maria Remarque. How old was I when I read All Quiet on the Western Front? Thirteen, maybe. I do not remember the men as much as the horses. Why is that? Have I blocked out the horror of humans mutilating each other? I remember most clearly the horse with its belly ripped open tripping and…

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