Salisbury Plain
The mist hangs heavy, so much so that when I take a breath I feel my lungs chill. I shiver as the damp surrounds me from inside and out - my uniform is soaked. As I walk I feel the weight of the mud on my boots (there is so little light I can barely make them out). I stumble in a puddle of water and decide to stop.With the sound of my sloshing now gone, I hear the murmur of distant voices. With each moment the murmur intensifies to the point that I can begin to determine what the voices are saying.
"Come on, come on, just a bit further," says one voice.
The silhouettes of two figures appear. They are wearing Private's uniforms identical to my own. One figure is helping the other to walk. The helper looks up and sees me. He is startled. He lets go of the other figure who then falls to the ground.
"Christ! Arthur! You scared the shit out of me," says the helper. "Where'd you get to?"
"George…George… where are we?" says the man on the ground. It is obvious in the way that he says this that he is drunk.
George composes himself. "Arthur, quick, help me get Alex back to the barracks. Damn it! I knew we shouldn't have gone to celebrate his birthday. What with the whiskey; you know he doesn't drink that stuff. If they catch us, we're done for. How are we gonna get to France from the clink?"