Summary
I have never been in a war zone. At least, not when anything was happening. I crossed the border from Ireland into Northern Ireland once in the 1970s looking down the barrels of tripod machine guns set up on sandbags, with the eyes of British soldiers peering suspiciously at me behind them. I've been in European airports where khaki-clad troops fingered the trigger guards of automatic weapons slung from their shoulders. I once walked along a street in Seoul, South Korea, beside an extremely unruly crowd of demonstrators who were about to be dispersed by riot police, helmets on, clubs up and plastic shields raised. I can almost remember walking across the tarmac of an Eastern European airport under small-arms fire. Well, not quite, though the guards at Bulgaria's international airport in Sofia have possibly the meanest demeanors on Earth.
Thankfully, I've never had to go into battle. I have, however, undergone the month of March many times here in Maine.See the full content of this document
Extract
While Maine Was Sleeping, March Waged Its War
Spring in the Northeast is different from other parts of the world. In Europe and China, spring is a great awakening - new...
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