Beside Bois l’Abbé, the Australian troops had eaten their evening meal of cold bully beef, dug from tins with their bayonets.

‘All we ever seem to do is march,’ complained Nash as he lay on the ground, looking up at the hazy sky. ‘When do we get a chance to fight?’

‘Soon enough,’ said Taz, sitting with a stub of pencil and a small notebook that he kept in his tunic’s left pocket.

‘What are you writing, Taz?’ Frankie asked.

‘A diary, of sorts.’

‘A little diary by the look of it,’ said Nash.

‘I didn’t know you were keeping a diary,’ said Frankie.

‘Only started it the other day.’

‘So what have you written for today?’

‘“Twenty-fourth of April: Saw tank battle. We won.”’

‘Not exactly riveting stuff, mate,’ Frankie remarked.

‘It’ll help me remember when I sit down to write a book about my experiences.’

‘You’re planning on writing a book?’ Frankie asked, surprised. ‘Mate, you’re only a kid. Who’d read it?’

Taz shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’

‘All right, you lot, listen up,’ barked Rait the Rat, arriving on the scene with Lieutenant Blair and Corporal Tom Hughes. They had just returned from a briefing by the company commander, which was attended by all the other platoon leaders and their deputies.

With section commanders Rait and Hughes standing by his side, Blair squatted down in the midst of his platoon. ‘Gather round, boys,’ said the American lieutenant.

‘What’s news, sir?’ asked Nash, getting up and joining the other men of the platoon as they congregated in a tight circle around their commander.

‘We’re to take part in a counterattack against Fritz,’ Lieutenant Blair began. ‘Tonight.’

‘About time!’ Nash declared.

Blair held his hand out to Rait. ‘Give me your bayonet, Corporal.’ Unsheathing the bayonet on his hip, Rait handed it to him. Using the bayonet, Blair sketched a rudimentary map on the ground. ‘This is Villers-Bretonneux,’ he said, ‘and this is us, here, at Bois l’Abbé. Tonight, the 15th Brigade will be going in north of the town, while the 13th advances south of the town.’ Blair drew two arrows to represent the two-pronged attack. ‘The objective is for us is to avoid Villers-Bretonneux and link up with the 15th on the other side of the town, cutting off the Germans. It’s a classic pincer movement, and it’ll save us a costly fight through the town, street by street.’

‘A blooming clever idea, if you ask me,’ Frankie remarked.

‘But no one is asking you, Pickles,’ Rait said, glaring Frankie’s way. ‘So pull your head in!’

‘Here in the south,’ Lieutenant Blair continued, ‘the 52nd Battalion will be going in on the right flank of the push, with a British battalion on our right and the 51st on our left. The 50th will be coming up on our heels, in support.’

‘Now you’re going to get some fighting,’ said Frankie, nudging Nash.

‘Can’t wait,’ said Nash, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

‘The 52nd’s objective,’ said Lieutenant Blair, ‘is to clear the Jerries from trenches they took from the Tommies this morning at a place called Monument Farm, while the Brits’ 7th Bedford Battalion clears out Monument Wood just to the south of the farm, on our right. Then we link up with the 15th Brigade around a mile east of the farm, cutting off Villers-Bretonneux. We won’t let anything or anyone stand in our way until we get to Monument.’ He jabbed the bayonet into the earth. ‘Here!’ Looking around at the faces circling him, he asked, ‘Any questions?’

‘What time will the attack begin, sir?’ Taz asked.

‘We’re still waiting for zero hour to be finalised. The brass want us to go in while it’s still light, but General Glasgow is adamant that we go in after dark.’

‘Too right!’ Frankie remarked. ‘We’d be sitting ducks in daylight.’

‘You got that right, Private,’ said Blair, coming to his feet. ‘And one other thing, boys, the word from the top is “no prisoners”.’

‘What does that mean, sir?’ Nash asked.

‘We won’t have the time or the capacity to handle any Germans who surrender,’ Blair replied matter-of-factly. ‘They’d only be a hindrance.’

‘So what will we do with them, sir?’ Taz inquired.

‘What do you think, Dutton?’ said Rait, a leering grin creasing his face.

‘Use your imagination, boys,’ said Lieutenant Blair, walking away.

‘And your bayonet,’ said Rait, stooping to retrieve his bayonet from the earth.