Andy Lonergan carved a thick slice of bread from the loaf and, with his bayonet, held it close to the glowing holes on the brazier.

"Don't go down that road Will," he told McCallion, staring at the piece of bread. There had been extra rations for the past couple of days. A lot of boys wouldn't need there allocation now.

Willie McCallion flicked the butt of his cigarette into the glowing mass.

"Andy, you and I know that a bleedin' Irish bloke don't come looking for a Muddie just for the sake of his health. Hartley was up to something, Bert caught him on and now he's dead.

"Now, I'm told the same officer could end up with an MC for pulling me out of a shell hole and taking a Gerry emma gee single handed. There's one for you .... what would you do?"

Lonergan judged that his toast was just right. He smeared the piece of bread with strawberry jam.

"Where did you get the good stuff?" asked McCallion wonderingly.

"Just happens I did a wee swop with a bloke down in Hartley's platoon," said Andy, before crunching into the bread.

He chewed thoughtfully, savouring the sweet taste of the condiment.

"Just happens that he's Hartley's bloke and this jam came in a parcel for Hartley a few days ago. Tell you what son, we'll have a chat with young Hollinger, see if he's noticed anything rum about him."

Colour Nulty eyed Lonergan suspiciously as the company's champion scrounger approached him.

"Mr. Lonergan," said Nulty. "Three words for you my lad ... don't get caught. Now ****** off and I didn't see you, right?"

"Right you are Colour," said Lonergan, as he slipped down the communication trench.

Nulty laughed. If Lonergan had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth he'd have been the bleedin' head of logistics for this bloody shambles. The Colour Sergeant knew he could afford to turn a blind eye to Lonergan's occasional forays to the rear.

When he was needed,he was there. Nulty knew that Andy Lonergan was worth his weight in gold to platoon morale. Every unit had one. But none of them had one as good as Andy Lonergan.

" ... so young Hollinger says Hartley takes nightmares and sweats. Mouths off about voices and stuff," Andy Lonergan told McCallion on his return.

McCallion spat unconcernedly: "Sure he got shell shocked on the Somme. He caught a packet on the first day and got blew up on the way back. I remember that .. who doesn't get the wind up out here Lonnie?"

"Aye, son, but more than that. Hollinger says Hartley talked about your Bert in his sleep after that patrol f..k up. Kept muttering about McCallion and his 'whore' ...."

Willie McCallion took a sharp breath: "Go easy Lonnie ... last time I saw Bert he was talking about wedding bells with this lass."

Lonergan spread his palms: "I'm just telling you what Hartley said son. Don't bite the messenger dog."

McCallion nodded.

"Owt else?"

"Here's the best bit Will. Thon girl .. Mandy or something? She did repairs to officers' uniforms ... and Hartley was one of her last customers."

"Hartley .. where's he at the moment? Back in some fancy officer's camp?"asked Willie.

"Are you kidding son," laughed Andy Lonergan. "He's back in f..king Mudcaster on leave."