‘Nearly a year now, my old mate; I’m glad you knew I was back in uniform at least,’ he said to the photo. There was Johnno, a giant of a man with his arm around Taff, a row of white teeth bright against the dark of his skin. ‘I don’t know why you had to die. Why mate? You had a wife and kids, and I had nothing; and you go and get blown to bits, not me. It doesn’t seem fair, but that’s the way it worked out. I know I can’t change it, but it guts me just to think about it.’ Taff then picked up the photo, held it tight, and cried himself to sleep.
Scars are inevitable in life and war. Echoes in the Wind is a story of scars, and how one man’s life was shaped by their marks.Register Interest in Echoes in the Wind by Roger Marsh