There are so many things that will break your heart when you think about the fighting in Belgium. The bunkers by the canals where doctors operated their butcher’s shops. The gas attacks that left the ground littered with rabbits, mice and moles, driven from their holes by the low-rolling cloud. The gravestones laid out in groups – when a number of men were killed at once, so that the parts of their bodies were all mixed up, the collective remains would be buried together and the gravestones set in a row, touching each other, like a row of teeth.
(Image: Jimmy & Sasha Reade)