Bullets were riccocheting off the top of the tiny wall, and we were both lying flat on the ground, clutching our carbines to our chests. I looked over at the Skipper, and touched my forefinger to the last grenade on my bandolier. He gently shook his head, opening his palm instead to show a claymore detonator. He put his other finger to his lips and then motioned to listen for footsteps.

I looked over at Freddy, he looked like he was in pretty awful shape, and I realised that we really could not bank on him for covering fire any more. To be honest we would be lucky if we didn’t lose him to his wounds.

The gunfire slowed and as I listened with Skipper for the tell-tale sound of VC running closer hoping to close range on us without any more of a fight.

I wondered at his nerve; I would have pumped the switch twice before he even looked like he was going to. Their footsteps seemed so close, but everything was out of whack, not least because I was scared out of my mind.

Suddenly he pumped the button. Bring the noise.