The Great War was over on November 11. Who has thoughts of that Hell, occurring so long ago and ere eclipsed by WWII? Passchendaele, Ypres, Vimy Ridge, The Somme, The Marne. Verdun. Names of places long-forgotten, save for a few.
On November 11, 1918, my grandfather was off to war. Herman Arthur Wallace. Pappy. Riding a train out of KC, bound for New York and transshipment across the wide Atlantic. He was the last of the Wallace boys to be dogfaces; his sons and their sons became swabbies. November 11th came and went, and with it, the dying gasp of the Great War, the War to End All Wars [until the next one]. The train turned around and returned to Kansas City. Happy XMas, War is Over [if you want it].