those who know me will verify that i'm not usually that serious a person, but i couldn't help think of my father's closest childhood friend, walter, who returned to southold after world war 2, he fought in sicily and up italy as a front line grunt, he told us stories of how the terrain was, every hill an artillery observation post, every ravine hiding snipers and ambushes look at this, visualize it without cars and electric lines and try to imagine being in a war in this in memory of walter mengewheit, 1925-1997, and all the others of that conflict [This attachment has been purged. Older attachments are purged from time to time to conserve disk space. Please feel free to repost your image.]
