more to come. One after another, deafening blasts whipped at him as he thrashed his way through the dense undergrowth, the shock waves slamming into him like hurricane-driven concrete blocks. Something struck him in the back, burning like crazy, but he fought his way onwards. A huge ball of fire ignited the foliage around him. The heat was intense. Yet he knew it was time to get to his feet - if he still had them.
Stratton pulled his legs beneath him and, keeping low, thrust forward like a sprinter. He punched through a thicket, clawing at the ground in desperation as he went. Another series of explosions went off like a firework display, projectiles whistling through the air in every direction. As he burst from the bushes he rolled down an incline that took him out of the direct line of fire and when he came to a stop he curled into a tight ball to weather whatever else was to come.
Stratton lay there, breathing heavily, wondering if he was going to live or die. Being conscious right now was not necessarily proof that he would survive. The explosions continued. He could feel the heat from the blazing wood but the blasts were no longer coming directly at him so he uncurled to take a look.
His clothes were smouldering but his limbs appeared to be intact. He had all his fingers although they were lacerated. He felt his head and face, his nose and ears and teeth. They were where they should have been as far as he could tell. He felt his stomach and his sides and when he looked at his hands again they were wet with fresh blood from somewhere.
The shock wave from yet another ground-shaking explosion tore through the foliage and shot over him. Debris rained down everywhere. Something heavy, a piece of a pallet, hit the ground close by. He felt a sharp pain shooting through his back near his shoulder blades and he reached around to feel something sticking from his flesh.
Stratton ignored it and forced himself onto his knees as he wondered what had happened to the others. There were shouts coming from the sentry post and men were running in every direction. He staggered a little as he got to his feet and headed back towards the burning wood. A fresh blast sent him to the ground once again and he wondered how many more explosives were left. The wood, what was left of it, continued to burn. Smoke was everywhere, making his throat and eyes as sore as hell.
Through it he saw a man kneeling and made his way towards him. Another man lay on his back beside him. Both had blackened skin and at first glance were unrecognisable.
‘You okay?’ Stratton shouted.
The kneeling man looked at him, breathing heavily, the whites of his eyes stark in his blackened face, his hair mostly burned away, blood streaming from his nose and a cut on his face. It was David. The other man too was obviously in a lot of pain, cradling his arm.
‘Have you seen the others?’ Stratton shouted, realising that his ears were ringing.
David was in a state of shock but managed to understand enough to shake his head.
There was a chance that the rest of them could be alive. Every second counted. A series of bangs went off, sounding like small-arms ammunition exploding. Stratton ignored them and headed back to the edge of the wood, pausing to look around. There was no sign of life and he pushed his way back in through the burned branches. He had not gone far before he saw something moving in the ash. The man lay on his side, shaking involuntarily, and Stratton carefully turned him over onto his back. He could not tell who it was. ‘You’re going to be okay,’ he said as he quickly checked him for any obviously serious wounds such as wholly or partially severed limbs. The man looked badly burned - his clothing was stuck to his flesh in places. Stratton knew from experience that the greatest threat to life from burns came after the immediate trauma, with dehydration and infection. But at that moment the most important thing was to get the man out of any further danger.
Stratton shouted for assistance and several men came towards him to help. He continued on into the wood despite the flames that now played around him. The smoke slowed him down and he was forced to squat low to the