Last Night Another Soldier

01.03.14

(19.42)

Am I alone in thinking that "Conditional Discharge" sounds like the product of an STD you might use in your hair? Just me then.

We're approaching the end of this little chapter in the story; this busman's holiday of angelic upstarts together. It has to end tomorrow night. Until then, the upstarts are together. Phil (an ex-Para) is reading in the corner and Josh is playing guitar and singing for us (and he's doing both very well). As this is the end of things for another year, we're pushing the boat out and having steak, chips, mushrooms, onion rings, grilled tomatoes and peas for dinner.

Once we return to our respective homes, I was considering paying a return visit to my other home of Bexley, now that my ban is lifted from my old local. I have it on good authority though that the reception I can expect may be mixed. This from Danielle, who I hurt and is the reason I had to leave. So I've said that I'll only go back if it's with her (for the evening), thereby demonstrating that she and I are okay. The jury is out and it could be complicated.

Whilst on holiday, my comrades and I have been swapping reading suggestions and I have two new additions to my reading list:

  • My God, by Hayley Mills, Marcus Maclaine et al
  • The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, by Jean-Dominique Bauby

02.03.14

(21.42)

Quite a sad night tonight, as it's our last together in Tunbridge Wells. We're all a bit withdrawn and trying not to get emotional. Occasionally though, one of us cracks (I just did).

Changing the subject, for distraction, dinner was a traditional Sunday roast of turkey with all the trimmings. Brunch was ham and eggs and lunch, prawn salad.

I've acquired most of what I needed and wanted over the last few days: a new, larger rucksack for periods away like this; a pocket Bible, yet more new clothes and some earphones (the Bang and Olufsen ones got damp). I've sussed the radio on my Nokia Lumia and now have my beloved Radio Four back, as well as other stations.

03.03.14

(07.42)

Time to go.

I don't want this to end. I'm losing yet more friends and I shall miss them, like so much else. But we smile through. And no matter what people may think of us, we're tougher than most.  

We've become a close group; family almost and the prospect of seeing my mum on Wednesday is keeping me going.

Last night another son.

 

 

 

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