The news spoke of nothing these days apart from the various battles taking place in Europe. War had officially claimed the thoughts, hearts and lives, even in the small province of Nova Scotia. Duncan was already tired of it. He had difficulty understanding why so many of his friends were eagerly lining up to don the uniform of the Canadian Expeditionary Forces. He fingered the white feather and watched the first troop ship leave the harbour, full of the exuberance of youth, ready for Death. Tucking the feather into his pocket, he turned and slunk back through the pre-dawn shadows.