In The End

In The End My mate Don curry took the hit that killed him on the third of october 1917. We were trying to capture a bunch of trees where the germans dug in. bullets sang through the air like insects. I was sure i was going to die. Get down get down Don shouted at some men standing over our trench - they were just shadows in the flickering light. He thought they were our men. They weren’t. This article is by Grace popole