Shadow of the Somme
I don't remember my real name. The man I was before the jump didn't leave much behind—just a name I don't use and a face I avoid in mirrors. What I remember is the taste of rain in France and the sound of a man begging in a language I didn't know. Corwin is what they call me now. It doesn't belong to me, but it fits, like a coat you pick up from a thrift store. It's not yours, but it keeps you...
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