Colonel Ernesto Bella: [writing a letter to his family back home] I can't remember what it was to be warm. It seems a thousand years since I was a small boy in the sun. How did I come to this high, desolate place where there is nothing but loneliness? So much is lost. I want to look into your eyes and forget. It all seems so far away: a warm house where my shadow never falls; your long, black hair in my hands. There is no more revolution, only you to come back to. I will post my resignation.

!!!
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