“If you ever see a war,” she says, not looking up from her clipboard, “you’ll learn that war only destroys. No one escapes from a war. No one. Not even the survivors. You accept things that would appal you at any other time because life has temporarily lost all meaning.” “War makes monsters of men,” I say, quoting Ben from that night in the weird place where New World buried its dead. “And women,” Mistress Coyle says.
