And, a little later, its realities and horrors came nearer home to us, with swift, deep experiences.
"One day my father took me to the camp and parade ground ten miles away, near the capital.

The General and the Governor sat on horses and the soldiers marched by them and the band played.

They were going to the front.

There surely must be a war at the front, I told Sam that night.
Still more coffins were brought home, too, as the months and the years passed; and the women of the neighbourhood used to come and spend whole days with my mother, sewing for the soldiers.

So precious became woollen cloth that every rag was saved and the threads were unravelled to be spun and woven into new fabrics.