[Hira Singh by Talbot Mundy]@TWC D-Link book
Hira Singh

CHAPTER II
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They will comb their beards, and decorate the trench with colored stones and draw names in the mud, but the all-important digging waits.

Sikh and Gurkha and British and French are all alike in that respect.
When Ranjoor Singh came back from his talk with Captain Fellowes he sent me to the right wing under our other risaldar, and after he was killed by a grenade I was in command of the right wing of our trench.
The three days that followed have mostly gone from memory, that being the way of evil.

If men could remember pain and misery they would refuse to live because of the risk of more of it; but hope springs ever anew out of wretchedness like sprouts on the burned land, and the ashes are forgotten.

I do not remember much of those three days.
There was nothing to eat.

There began to be a smell.


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