We have ways of making you tour presents The Cauldron by Zeno, read by Almari.

Chapter 22

Mocock was thinking about Lydon, already a prisoner of war, perhaps already dead.

They had got into the aidpost a few minutes before the temporary truce granted by the Germans

for the handing over of the wounded.

Mocock wondered when he would see Lydon again, if he would ever see him again.

Alone in the shattered room, he looked out at the grey beginning of the ninth day.

The early light of the fires in the burning houses distorted the scene in front of him,

a scene which had changed only in detail during the three days the platoon had been in

its present positions.

Mocock had not slept at all during the night.

The slight sounds made by the Germans as they worked their way up the road,

moving from one unoccupied house to the next, had been enough to prevent him from even dozing.

He had no idea how close the nearest Germans were to him, but he suspected that they were in many of the houses in the short street,

perhaps even in that on the other side of the road to his left.

With Lydon gone, the battle held no further interest for Mocock.

A slight movement in one of the gardens attracted his attention.

He turned his head slowly and watched the place dispassionately.

A small bush shook, he glimpsed to German helmet, a figure showed, with Drew reappeared and began stealthily to slide over the low-dividing wall.

When the German was nearly over, Mocock shot him, wondering how the man could be such a fool as to think he could move undetected within 25 yards of his enemy,

and at the early hour when all troops stood to.

The German jerked slightly and stopped his forward shift.

...