It was war like I’d never seen war. Bodies lay in the dirt, in the ditches and weeds, groaning in pain from their wounds. There were more than two dozen casualties, most on their side, some on ours.

Their outpost was in sight, flag flapping in the wind. Only a few of the defenders could be seen, those who had not been flattened by the juggernaut of our charge.

We split three ways, some flanking right, some flanking left, with Granger and me keeping to the middle and the boys hit ’em hard on both sides. We overran their position, taking them all out in a dirty, sweaty free-for-all that left me and my partner free to grab the flag and run like hell for the border.

I had the flag. Granger blocked for me. We were fastest in our squad. If anyone could make it across no-man’s-land it would be us.

Almost home free – a trio of the enemy popped up out of nowhere and tackled me hard. I fed Granger the flag as I crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust. But they just couldn’t catch him.

It was total victory for us.