I am writing this from my hospital bed, although I am certain I shall never show it to a soul. They tell me I am mistaken, that something damaged my mind, that I was delirious, that I saw only birds and wild dogs, but I know the truth.

On the morning of the 16th Harry and I sallied forth side by side as we have been for so much of this war. Our mine did its work, fountains of mud thrust skywards with an almighty explosion, then came silence. For a while we were sure that the Germans had fled, so quiet was the land around us. They shattered this peace in an instant when their machine guns lit up. We went to ground and were untouched by this barrage but unable to make progress towards our goals.

After a short while the guns stopped, and Harry stuck his head up to see what was about, almost losing his helmet and his life when a sniper spotted him. One of our own took care of that chap soon enough, and we could stand up once more. We came closer and closer to the Hun’s trenches, only to find their front line all but deserted. Wary of a trap we dropped into it and made quick work of the few men defending, a sorry lot to be sure. Then it was back out again and on to the next trench.

We had a harder time of things there and we lost a few good men on the way, but Harry and I were fortunate enough to avoid attention. We located the last working machine gun post in our section of the front and took cover in a shell-hole to plan our assault. Harry, the brave and foolhardy devil, resolved to destroy it with Mills bombs while the rest of us fired hoping to suppress any retaliation.

The moment Harry stood, the bomb in hand, a shell exploded on the rim of our little crater. The flash and the bang were simultaneous, knocking the wind out of us. Through the dancing spots in my eyes I saw Harry cartwheeling away beyond the crater wall. I tried to rise to go after him but found something pinned me down by my shoulder. Upon my noticing, I felt the sticky warm touch of blood down my arm and across my chest, but suffered almost no pain.

I looked around to ask for aid from my fellows, only to realise they were in no state to aid me. Those who had not been dismembered by the blast were lying so still as to leave no doubt they would not rise again. One man breathed still, but shallow and not for long.

It was surprising how calm I remained in the face of what I was now sure was my demise. I would continue to lose blood, becoming weaker and more exhausted by the minute until I slipped into a peaceful sleep forever. I do not know how long I waited, but my dear Harry suddenly hailed me - his clothes tattered but his body intact. He refused to remove the shrapnel for fear of making the bleeding worse, but dressed my injured shoulder such that I could lie on my back at least, instead of face-down in the stinking mud.