Suez Firing Practice.
Because things were starting to get ugly and we were to be issued with rifles, it was decided firing practice was in order.
Having discharged five rounds, I rested up my rifle and surveyed the view in front of me, High on a mountainside trail some distance away beyond the firing range, a row of dots appearing to be a laden donkey being ridden by a male while his three bints (wives) walked in front. I was idly wondering why on earth anyone would want to marry three three women and suffer a life time of tongue lashing, concluding some men must be gluttons for punishment, when the party burst into life, high tailing it along the trail. A cloud of dust had just kicked up below them the clue that a bullet had landed too close for comfort.
Compassionate leave to be married meant Kenny had missed initial firing range instruction. I quickly explained to him the rules for aiming but forgot to tell him to keep his eyes open. Eyes closed, he let fly, bullets landing far and wide.
Kenny was a good sort and a firm favorite of our off duty clique As a new arrival he was subject to endless ribbing about having longer left to serve than any of us, Fate intervened, he contracted Tuberculosis and was shipped home after some months in BMH Fayid receiving an early discharge and a pension.
Kenny sent us a postcard to let us know he had made it back safely to Blighty.
Somehow the card had a hollow ring to it like a scene from a prisoner of war film.