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Here we are again, on these lands. The cannons are loaded, the sabers are waiting for their time…. Boots and guns are polished to a shine. We know what's coming. I can feel this smell in the air. It is a mixture of sweat, terror, gunpowder, and bread. Who are we without bread? I definitely remember that it was warmer last time. It wasn't snowing, the meadows were just beginning to bloom, but our b…