The memory with white spots

We have two men, each approaching thirty years after one hundred, recounting the same story, each claiming to be the hero of the story. When they were found after the incident, in 1917, each of them had a travel permit, bearing the name and a photo whose colors had completely faded, a blurred face, like their memories that still retain every detail with astonishing accuracy, but without faces, except for one face; her face. Whoever listens to the story from them, wonders how their memories have lasted for more than a full century, holding on to every detail of the story so skillfully. And how all the faces have escaped with such cruelty. How does one face insist on not slipping away like all the others? As for what each of their passports carries, it is the most amazing part of the story, a visa to the Dallanjat.