The Silence After Victory
ACT I: THE RISING The snow fell on Sevastopol like a shroud, thick and relentless, burying the dead beneath a blanket of white that no one would ever count. It was January, 1855, and the siege had lasted longer than anyone in London or Paris had anticipated. The telegraph lines, those marvels of the age that General Russell had boasted would secure victory within the month, had become useless...
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