There are things you can't explain...
like how can you see them marching, barefoot, against the odds, the unbelievable bravery of getting ready to march a mile across open ground against a larger army, of knowing the gutteral yet high-pitched yell of defiance as you ran into battle, of having leaders you idolized, of fighting for your home against an invader, of the despair of being ground down by overwhelming force, of having your home occupied by a foreign army?
It's not just reading, or hearing tales from kinfolk, or liking the underdog, or imagination, or emotion. I was there.
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