Dearest Pat,
Happy Halloween as the Americans say, they've decked the place out well and truly here, they take this holiday very seriously. These past few days, men have woken up screaming telling me that their mates are coming back to haunt them and I've had to tell them that they'd only haunt you for a joke their souls mean no harm, you know the drill. The Australians are taking it very seriously, now they've discovered this holiday. Every soldier has decided to scare the nurses in the worst possible way. For example; young Ryan Foster decided it would be a great idea to pretend he was bleeding out of the stump from his amputated leg, he sent his mate Conner Riley bolting to me at a million miles an hour with the nurses, sending me running and the boys into fits of laughter. Matron Cleary got quite sick of the practical jokes and told the boys, "the next one to pull a stunt like that will go without dinner" which did nothing at all. These boys don't give two hoots about the boy who cried wolf but Penny and I still play along with their little pranks. Anyway enough about that. How's Johnno? I hope he's well. I hope you're well my love. This war won't go for much longer hopefully. I sound quite hopeful don't I?
I think I'm delirious my darling, so I'll see ya when I see ya.
Every ounce of my love,
Murph xx
I tucked the crumpled letter back into my top pocket as the rain began to fall heavy, streams of water running off our tilted hats. The weather always determined the mood of my comrades, sometimes it even determined how many people we were going to lose that day. Johnno dozed beside me, his hat shielding his face, his mind was elsewhere, I guess mine was too.
'Hey Paddy will you face for me?' I looked up at Jack Anderson, he was a sixteen year old with a heart the size of Uluru. He was always there to make sure we were still alive and smiling.
'It's a bit dangerous don't you think mate?' I stated, shifting my sitting position.
'We're in Vietnam, sleeping is dangerous, everything we do is dangerous.' Jack replied. I shrugged at his fair point and rose to my feet.
'Right give me your bat.' I took the wooden bat from his hand and stood in front of a tree. The boys had all woken from their groggy slumbers and were scattered around the clearing with smiles from ear to ear.
'I'll bat with ya, Taylor what'd you do with that bat?' Johnno asked, Bill Taylor handed him the other bat we'd brought with us.
'Righto send her down.' I called, Jack grinned and rolled his arm over sending the ball down to me, I slapped it through our makeshift 'cover' and 'mid off' before bolting down the other end.
'Four!' I announced as the boys clapped, I bowed.
'Have any of you realised that we just got hit for four by Australia's best batsman?' Mike asked. The fielders all rose their hands and I couldn't help but laugh.
'C'mon and again!' I called, Jack bowled the ball beautifully but I had no choice but to smash it for six.
"Bloody hell!"
"Show off!"
"It's gone into the trees!"
'Alright boys, alright!' I laughed. 'I'll get He bloody ball.' I placed my bat in front of the tree and pushed through the thick scrub following the path of the ball. An eery sensation lingered in the air, I didn't think anything of it as I dipped below branches and stepped through foliage. The bright red ball sat patiently waiting to be retrieved at the base of a huge tree. I flicked the leather into my hands, the spark of adrenaline still shooting through my chest. I stood in awe at the tree that towered toward the sky, the sight of it took me straight back to the Daintree, my arms wrapped around Murph as we sat beneath a tree about the same size. I smiled at the pleasant memory, before focusing on my surroundings. My heart stopped at the sight of what seemed like a thousand gun barrels aimed at me. I didn't move, my stomach was in my throat and my heart was in my ears.
If I didn't move, my whole battalion would be slaughtered, if I did move my whole battalion would be slaughtered but at least they could put up a fight. So, without a second thought, I bolted. Bullets scattered around my ankles as I jumped over roots and leaves.
'RUN BOYS BLOODY HELL RUN!' I bellowed, my pleas echoing through the jungle. Flashes of boots and hands broke the stillness of the day. Rain continued to pour onto our panicking bodies as we reached for our guns and started firing into the trees. Vietnamese screams pierced our ears as we fired, men falling left, right and centre. The clattering of rifle fire and the roaring of men sent chills down my spine as the Vietnamese crawled quickly through the scrub.
'Did you get the ball?' Jack asked, forcing a magazine into the machine gun.
'I got the bloody ball mate don't worry.' I forced a smile as I pulled the trigger.
The battle didn't last long at all, 15 minutes maybe less, but it felt like hours. I felt 100 years old once the whole thing had died down. Us Australians sat silent, stunned by recent events, shocked that the 50% of the carnage before our eyes was created by us.
'I can't find Bill, I can't find Taylor!' Steve panicked, his fists gripping his saturated hair.
'He's down here!' The familiar croaky voice came from behind a cluster of trees maybe 20 metres away. Jack, Steve, Greg and I bolted, our legs powering across the muddy ground. There lay Bill Taylor, his face still yet cut open by bullets, his chest was coated with red blood. Beside him was Johnno, his hand pressed against his chest, blood spilling from his fingers. I rushed to his side, my arm wrapping around his shoulders.
'They got me Pat, they got me.' He gurgled.
'Not yet they haven't,' I said, holding him upright.