It turned out to be a very old cottage, the sort with roses around the door, next to some tumble down old farm buildings. I opened the squeaky front ...ate, and walked up the overgrown path, and read the noticed attached to the door “Please knock loudly.” So I hammered on the door with my fist and waited for a response.”Hello” a voice from across the yard shouted “Sorry; I forgot that you were arriving today” he said. Oh that's not a good start I remember thinking to myself......but I needn't. It was small,quiet, bereft of any color and quite lonely. A Spartan hoplite wouldhave felt right at home living here. Were it not for my weeklypilgrimage to my sister's, my days would be all but indistinguishable.There was another, less well defined force compelling me to acceptMoore's strange proposal. It was a longing to matter, to be relevantonce more. It was a need that had gone unfulfilled since I'd left theArmy. As a medic with a combat unit I'd been important, a respectedmember of a. More

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