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"-an unattached hand, or rather a detached one. It lay there alone - open, palm upwards, clean, capable, solitary. I could not tear my eyes from it. To see this hand lying alone, as though contemptuously cast aside, was to see war in all its wantonness; it was to see the especially brutal savagery of our own technique of rending, and it was to see men at their eternal worst, turning upon one another, tearing one another." Robert Leckie, Helmet for My Pillow



















