With pick and shovel we dug trenches through beautiful fields of grain

With pick and shovel we dug trenches through beautiful fields of grain, fully realising what damage we were doing to the farmers’ hopes of reaping small harvests that would enable them to stem hunger during the coming winter. The patriarch with his ox-drawn plough, the matronly gleaner, and the young woman gathering grass and leaves, roots and truffles, stood arms akimbo, wordlessly, helplessly, hopelessly watching. The depressing effect on the morale of the men – to many of whom raising grain on the Western prairie also meant their livelihood – could not be easily dismissed. Hi Hi Hi HI hi