Terry Buchanan

Sergeant Plummer stared straight ahead, his side vision obscured by the thick iron walls of his tank. "You're just a pot-roast in a pressure cooker", his dad had said. 'Advance' came the order. At that moment the lighted cigarette, drooping from the corner of his mouth, fell into his lap. 'Bugger it', he whispered under his breath, sensing it as an omen for a bad day at war.