Chapter 1

Medic! Medic" I could hear the screams of my sergeant major as he urgently called for the medic.

"Get on that bloody phone son," He said to our wireless man, "and get a bloody chopper in here or he doesn't have a chance. Medic where the fuck are you! He called again.

It was as if I was floating and feeling nothing. I wondered who had copped it. Then the mists cleared and the pain hit me. I screamed in agony and I looked down and there was blood all over my trousers legs and I saw there was nothing where my feet and boots should have been. Wave after wave of agonising pain hit me and even the morphine I had obviously been injected with could not dull it. I passed out.

I floated in and out of consciousness for the next two or three days. In lucid moments I recognised I was in the base hospital. The same again and I was on an aeroplane strapped to stretcher with blood being fed into me from a drip. The next time I came to I was in a hospital back in England. As I drifted in and out of consciousness I was having flashbacks that enabled me to piece together what had happened. My small SAS patrol was on the way back to base from a mission when we came across an infantry patrol which had wandered into an improvised mine field. There were six guys trapped and from somewhere a Taliban was trying to pick them off and I saw one of the guys go down. I spotted the shooter and waved to my sergeant major and told him,

"Get that bastard."

We had not been seen and the three I was with followed my orders and fanned out to take out the guy with the rifle. Another soldier in the minefield went down. I crawled towards them marking my passage with my knife and feeling in front of me for the IEDs. I made it to where the first guy was lying wounded. I ordered the three who had not been hit to crawl towards me feeling their way as I had done. When they had made it I asked about the other two who were down.

"One has had it sir," He told me. "I don't know about Jimmy,"

He pointed to his man lying about six yards away. Who just at that point gave a groan. I picked up the wounded man that I had reached and turned to the others and said,

"I have marked a path so follow me and tread in my footsteps," I told them.

The corporal turned to his men,

"You heard the captain he's going to lead us out. Do what he has said."

"What about Jimmy?" One of the others asked.

"If we risk going for him now" I told him, "We might blow all of us up. "My guys seem to have taken care of the sniper. I'll come back and get him."

Once they were clear of the minefield I crawled back along my path once more. Within minutes I had found a clear rout to the wounded guy. I could see my sergeant major and the other two guys had made their way back to where the survivors waited, eyes peeled and guns ready in case any more of the bastards were in a position to fire on us. I could see other soldiers making their way towards our group. I hoisted the wounded man on my back and carefully made my way along the cleared path towards them. I had almost made it when I was hit with a burst of fire from another hidden Taliban. It spun me round and I fell backwards with the guy I was carrying and the last thing I heard was the explosion as I triggered a mine.

In the hospital I was still drifting in and out of consciousness and had very little awareness of what was happening to me. This time when I came round I had doctors crowded round my bed. Their voices still seemed to be coming from a distance and their figures were hazy because my vision was still blurred. One of the doctors said,

"He has survived the double amputation but if we don't stop the internal bleeding he won't make it. There is a limit to the amount of blood we can keep pumping into him."

"We need to get the shrapnel out too. That's what has moved and started the bleeding again," another one said. "There are enough bits in there to keep on doing it. It's risky but we have to get it out.

"Ok schedule him for theatre this afternoon and hope the poor bugger makes it," the first one said.

"Shit," I thought as they moved away, "Bits of both legs gone. Stupid bastard that's what you get for playing the fucking hero. I should have taken more time and made sure there wasn't another sniper around before going back in. There must be something wrong with my eyes as well for my vision is blurred, but at least I seem to be able to think more lucidly. I'm doped to the eyeballs probably to take away the pain. Just have to wait and see if I make it. I still think life with no legs is better than no life at all."

"Christ!" I thought, "what is happening now." I am floating above the operating theatre looking down at the doctors working on my body. They are desperately trying to stem a bleed out. As I watch another figure appears alongside me. He is floating too looking down on another theatre where they are trying to restart his heart.

"Hi" I said, "What's your name and what happened to you?"

"Peter and I was in a car accident," he said, tears in his eyes. "A lorry crossed the central reservation and ploughed into us. My mum and dad and two sisters are dead. I think I have broken so many bones I don't know if I will ever heal even if they save me. I have bones in my legs and arms pinned and they are going to give me a whole body cast so that I can't move since I have fractured my pelvis."

"What about you?" The boy asked.

Lost both legs in Afghanistan," I told him. "Internal injuries as well and they can't get the bleeding stopped. I looked down at the frantic attempts of the doctors below. It doesn't look as if I am going to make it. Shit!"

"My hearts stopped again, Maybe I won't make it either, I don't care." He told me.

"What age are you." I asked. "Just turned fourteen," he said.

"Well boy if I was in your shoes I would be down in that body fighting like hell to stay alive. You can work hard in physical therapy and get back on the road. If I make it I am going to do that." I told him.

"Sadly" a voice said, "You are not going to survive. My name is Michael and I've come to fetch you and to take you home."

We both turned to see a figure in white hovering with us.

"Take me home?" I queried.

"Yes." he said, "Some of the religions have some of it right. There is life after death and as Jesus told his followers a place has been prepared for you."

"But I thought sinners were condemned to everlasting agony or something."

"No," said the figure, "They just have to make up for their sins and some have to work longer and harder than others to achieve that."

I groaned and asked, "How hard have I to work? I wasn't exactly a saint was I?

"Are you talking about your love affairs," He asked.

"Among other things," I told him. "I am also a soldier and I have killed other men"

"Well!" said the figure, "Let's look at those things. "You had several women. Two you loved. With the others, you met one another's needs and no one was hurt as none of you had commitments. Where was the harm in that? As for the soldier, it was a centurion who was told he was a man of greater faith than any of the Israelites so that obviously doesn't exclude you. In fact I would quote you something else from your bible which that same prophet spoke. "Greater love has no man than this, that he should lay down his life for his friends." You have given your life for your comrades, and believe me that rates you very highly on our entry list."

"So it's not going to go too badly with me then?" I asked.

Quite the reverse, you are going to love it where we are going, because as I have said your place is already prepared and it is good.

"If I die would I be with my parents and my sisters?" The young boy asked.

Michael smiled, "You surely would," He told him. Your folks were good people and you and your sisters haven't had time to do anything that would stop you joining them."

"Well I would rather go back with you than go back down to the pain and the grief down there" the boy said.

"Listen lad," I said him, "You can fight your way through the pain and grief and you will find there is a lot of joy to be had in living. You can return knowing that one day you will see your parents and you sisters again. You can also make sure you lead a good life so that you get to go to the same place as me when the time is right."

"If you are so fond of living that you want to go on despite what Michael has said; then why don't you go back into my body" he said.

I laughed and said, "I would if that were possible but probably it is not."

Michael stroked his chin,

"I can see ahead, and the lad here has a hard time waiting for him and he doesn't handle it very well. In the long run he would be better off going now. If you took his place, you might save him a lot of grief here and in the world to come," He told us. "I have a bit of discretion on these matters. If you go back I can give you an insight into the kind of things you really need to avoid so that you don't tarnish what you have already achieved. Do you really want that?"

"If it is good for the young lad, then I will do it gladly and run the risk of making things worse for myself."

Michael smiled, "Then on your head be it," he said. "Here are his memories." he said." I should really modify yours, but in the light of what I know I am going to leave them intact. You will also have the insights I promised. Now go.!"

Things went black and the boy was breathing again and I found myself in his body and my mind went blank.

I regained consciousness in a ward with only four beds in it. I was confused for a moment or two and then remembered my conversation with Michael and Peter "Well that was a nice dream I thought, but then my hand that was not attached to a drip felt down my body and I was encased in plaster.