It's terrible when a family receives the news that a son has died in battle: imagine receiving the news that three of your five sons have died at the same battle, on the same day, despite the fact that they were all serving in different regiments:
BTW, the brothers were all Scotsmen, and it is said it was possible to trace the line of advance of Scottish regiments that day by following a trail of bodies in kilts hanging on the barbed wire in No Man's Land…
The reference in this post's title is to the autobiography of that title by British poet Robert Graves, who was present at the battle in which the three brothers died, and describes it in his book.
Link to Amazon.com
Link to WorldCat.org