A framed photograph of men playing football hung beside the door. Taken in December 1914, the photo showed Germans and Englishmen playing side by side, festive smiles on their faces as they beamed with the confidence of men who thought the war couldn’t continue. He’d won awards for his images, but their medals were sent to bereaved families. Would it all be remembered, in a century’s time? Would another conflict, perhaps even bigger, overshadow their losses? Would names like Ypres and the Somme be remembered, or would they fade into history, taking their ghosts with them?
Faraday knew that some ghosts shouldn’t be forgotten, capable as they were of returning, bringing a fresh hell with them. He knew sleep would continue to elude him, so he got up, saluting the soldiers as he passed. He went to the bureau to sort through his photographs, the ones not yet published. Faraday would do everything he could to keep these ghosts alive, to ensure they were remembered, if only to stop another, even greater, war from swallowing up the world.
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