Historical Fiction FTW

"It was like a resurrection in a cemetery twelve miles long. Bent, agonized shapes loomed in multitudes on the churned earth. Limping and dragging back to reclaim their life. It was as though the land were disgorging a generation of crippled sleepers, each one distinct but related to its twisted brother as they teemed up from the reluctant earth. 
Weir was shaking. 
'It's all right,' said Stephen. 'The guns have stopped.'"

Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks