Chapter 1

He checked his face in the small mirror hanging on the tent post. Satisfied, he wiped the blade of the cutthroat razor and placed it against its twin in the leather case.

The razors had belonged to his Grandfather, liberated from the saddle bags of an Ulan officer during the First World War. He slipped on his shirt, shivering in the cold air of the morning. The sun had not yet fully risen over the skyline but soon it would be hot, very hot.

Putting on his Australian slouch hat and carrying his washing bowl, he ducked under the camouflage net that hid his tent. He poured out the water and the sand greedily soaked it up. Placing the bowl by the box next to his tent’s entrance, he turned to walk towards the mess tent. The men were already there eating their breakfasts before the flies arrived with the heat of the sun.

“Morning Boss,” Sargent Blake murmured, “bloody bullied beef again.”

Lieutenant Shaun Ramage smiled and nodded. Taking a mug of tea handed to him by Sammy, he sat down, taking out from his top shirt pocket a pack of twenty-five Gold Leaf cigarettes. Selecting one he lit it with his brass Zippo lighter.

“Cuppa tea and a cough as usual Boss?” Corporal ‘Titch’ Anderson, the patrol’s mechanic, observed.