Andy McNab - War torn

'I'll race you. Now don't throw your arms around Ben because he'll fall over.'

Dave hugged Ben gently.

'The last time I saw you… well, you were a lot of spectacular shades of red, Broom. Now you're just the one…' He tousled Broom's hair.

'I'm getting my new leg soon, Sarge,' Broom said proudly.

'Shit!' said Dave. 'This is a fantastic surprise.'

'So did you put my leg in your Bergen, mate?' asked Steve.

'Er… what?'

'My leg. From the cookhouse freezer. You did bring it?'

For a moment the smile faded from Dave's face.

'Oh… so you heard about that…'

Steve started to laugh, then. So did Dave, partly with relief. He was still laughing when he put an arm around Leanne and planted a huge kiss on her cheek.

'You're looking good, Leanne!'

But by now Jenny had picked up the baby and handed her to Dave. He stared into her eyes and simply loved her. It wasn't complicated. It wasn't maybe. It was love.

'Yeah,' said Dave to the baby. 'Yeah. I'd like you to be called after Jamie.'

Jenny was watching him. She said: 'How you've changed, Dave.'

He smiled. He looked around the field of men and their families, at the banners and the tears, the wounded and the whole, the joy and the relief. He thought he heard the same phrase on every pair of lips. The men were saying it about their wives, about their children. The families were saying it about their men. Everyone, in Wiltshire and Helmand, had faced experiences that only those who were with them could understand. The words echoed around the people, the buses, the buildings, the barracks, the banners and the monument to the men who hadn't come home, until it seemed to Dave, his new baby named after his dead friend in his arms, that these were the only words he could hear. You've changed, you've changed, you've changed.