One day the war will be over. I hope that those who use the bridge in years to come will remember how it was built, and who built it. Not a gang of slaves, but soldiers. British soldiers, even in captivity.
"He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest; My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
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