And she stood, walked to one of the books, and pulled it open. She returned with a newspaper clipping. It was a photograph of soldiers: fresh, young, provoked by the distance of the place they found themselves. It was no more than a moment before I saw Maxwell, smiling. The article had been cut away except a few paragraphs and my eyes caught the words “but as photographer Niall Pierce remembers the scene…” “Unbelievable,” I whispered. And it was. Pierce had been standing not twenty feet from Maxwell. He had taken his picture.
