Chapter 73

Whistles. It always starts with whistles. The high-pitched noise slices through the trenches and cuts away whispered prayers and shared jokes. I close my eyes, but you can't block out the whistle.

It only took a matter of days to realise war was not as glamorous or exciting as the posters made it out. Some soldiers, unable to cope, deserted. If caught, they were executed for their cowardice. I lacked even the courage to run and so found my own way to cope.

Over the first desperate months, I built a castle in my mind. A strange construction with leaning towers and stairways that ran straight into ceilings and doors that opened onto empty space. Memories filled the many rooms. Some were complex and exotic, evoking all my senses. One lavish room held my first day in Egypt, the walls tiled in vibrant bursts of colour. We stood in the bazaar in wonder, convinced we had been transported to another world and no longer walked the earth. Heavy spices danced on the air and swirled around befor