23rd December 1971
The battlefield lay quiet, for it was soon to be a cemetery for the unburied. The Nimbus clouds hovered in the December sky, loaded with drizzling rain in them. I wore the battledress tinted in camouflage, concealing my plate armour. My epaulet was mounted firmly on my shoulder, proudly presenting three stipes of blue, white and red; colours of the French. I placed the combat helmet on my head which completed the look of bravery and hope. We all wore the same uniform, some with pride…
Words 1022 - Pages 5
