Andy McNab - Last Night-Another Soldier…

'Confirm. We have a T1 casualty, Tango 1. We need MERT now.'

That wasn't good. T1 meant we were losing him. He was critical. Flash was thinking the same as me. 'Where the hell is that Chinook!'

I got the empty case out of the weapon and was back in action.

'It's clear, Si!'

'I'll get the ammo. We need more ammo!' Si ran over to where John lay screaming and jerking about as if he was getting electric shocks. I scrambled onto my knees just as a three-round burst of Taliban fire hit the wall. I leant my chest into the mud bricks and got the weapon back into my shoulder. I never got to take aim, though. My rifle jolted skywards and a dark mass rose up from the other side of the wall.

Two large hands glued themselves to the front of my weapon. I tried to pull back but lost my footing, and a Tali the size of a house started to climb over the wall. He was using my rifle to help lever himself over.

As his feet inched higher up the wall, he pulled the barrel down hard onto his shoulder, the hot steel singeing the cloth of his shirt. He took no notice as the heat burnt through to his skin. The stench of sweat, cigarettes and burning flesh hit my nostrils, and within seconds the giant hands flailed out again, this time grabbing hold of my chest harness.

I scrambled backwards to escape his grasp, but he was quicker and stronger. He pulled me back towards the wall, trying to force me over with him. My helmet crashed into his head as I tried to headbutt him, but he took the pain and kept on pulling. I don't know what I shouted, but I yelled and screamed into his face as I butted him again, using all my body weight to stay on the right side of the wall. We were so close I could feel his beard scratch against my face. His spit sprayed into my eyes as he screamed back at me, his eyes fixed on mine.

I clung to the butt of my weapon as I tried to heave back against the pull on my chest harness. Getting rounds off was my only chance. I tried to curl my finger around the trigger, but couldn't make it. He pulled down heavily again, and my feet left the ground. My body inched forward over the top of the wall. I arched my spine backwards, resisting with everything I had, but it was no good. I was hooked like a fish.

I heard Toki shout something again and again. His voice grew louder as he ran towards me, but still I couldn't make it out. He kept on yelling and then finally it sunk in. 'Pistol, Briggsy. Pistol!'

I'd forgotten I had one in my thigh holster. I let go of my weapon with my right hand and the Tali felt the change in pressure. He leant back once more, putting all his weight into toppling me forward. I felt my hip bones pressing into the ridge. I could hear myself breathing loudly as I pushed my hand down my leg, feeling for the pistol grip.

My fingers closed around the hard steel and I pulled the weapon out of its holster. I raised my arm, brought the pistol round in front of me and shoved it in the Tali's face. As soon as the barrel made contact with skin and bone, I squeezed the trigger hard. One shot straight to the head. His giant hands let go of me and his body dropped like a stone, crashing into the darkness on the other side of the wall.

I pushed myself off the wall just as Toki reached it. He grabbed hold of my body harness and half dragged me over to where Flash and Si were crouched down beside John. I didn't know if I was looking for praise or comfort from my two mates, but I could tell by their bowed heads and motionless bodies that the two of them had other things on their mind. John was no longer screaming… or breathing.

It was just after seven o'clock when we got back to the Forward Operating Base (FOB). There was no time for breakfast, we were straight back to our patrol's eight-man tent to clear away John's kit. You'd think you might get a bit of time off to take it all in, but maybe that was the point. Best just get on with things and not think too much about anything.

The four of us sat around John's bed space. Or at least the other three sat. I stayed standing as my arse was killing me. We were all going through John's kit, stuffing his gear into bin liners so it could be shipped home to his wife.

Si had switched on John's radio while we worked. I reckoned we were all glad of that as it saved us having to say anything to each other. Well, there wasn't really much to say. When the news came on at half past, we all stopped to hear the report on Afghanistan. As usual, the news girl kept it brief: 'Last night in Afghanistan, British Forces continued their military offensive against the Taliban. Over three thousand British troops are currently taking part in Operation Condor. Their aim is to take control of the Taliban poppy-growing region in Southern Afghanistan. The MoD's spokesperson, Major Jennifer Dufton, said that British ground forces were encountering small pockets of resistance, but that good progress was being made…' Si got really pissed off and hit the Off button. 'Good progress my arse. I can't listen to any more of that crap.' He leant forward on the bed and pulled out John's patrol pack from underneath it. Toki nodded his agreement, and pointed at a pile of thin blue airmail letters sticking out of the top.

'Flash. Those blueys. Sit down and read 'em. Check they're all from John's wife, will you? Or his mum and dad. If not, burn them.'

Flash shook his head as he bent down for the blueys. 'The man's dead. It's not right.'

'I know, but do you really want his wife reading letters from some other woman? They could just be from a sister, but we can't take that chance, mate. It happened in Basra when a guy from A Company got hit by a sniper. His wife got all his personal kit, and in there was a pile of blueys from another woman. John's family have enough problems as it is.' Toki scanned our faces as if searching for clues. 'That goes for all of us. Let's get John's stuff sterile. If we see anything dodgy, bin it.' Flash quickly started sorting through the blueys while we got back to sorting out John's kit.

I kicked a pile of magazines with my boot.

'What about these, Toki? FHM, Zoo…'

'Cookhouse. Julie won't want those. Anyone know if he has any porn on his laptop?'

I started to pick up the magazines. 'I know he was making a music video using all the film he'd been taking.'

'I'll check it out while you lot are on fatigues. Don't want Julie seeing us chewing up Taliban either.'

Red flecks appeared on Si's cheeks joining his zits like some crazy dot-to-dot quiz. His eyes flashed between us. 'He's dead, and for what? For nothing, that's what. Three days aggressive camping just to get a good kicking? We should have stayed and smashed 'em up big time.' He brought his fist down hard on the bed. 'At least John would have died for something. Where are the pencil necks giving these orders? I didn't see any of them out there last night.'

He was right. No one from HQ ever came to our FOB. I started rolling up John's sleeping bag. 'Probably sitting in those air-conditioned Portakabins in Kandahar, never even been in the Green Zone. Why did they rip us out, Toki?'

Toki was checking out the rest of the patrol pack, pulling out dirty socks and dark-green sweat-stained T-shirts. 'D Company were getting hit big time last night. They needed all the Apaches and support up north. Once they've cleared and are holding their area, we'll be going out on the ground again.'

I put the pile of magazines on top of three bags of boiled sweets, which were all destined for the cookhouse. 'Better had! Makes us look like right wimps.'

Si wasn't finished yet. 'Why ain't we got loads of helis and all the gear like the Yanks got?'

Toki sighed, raising his legs and plonking his desert boots on John's camp bed. 'No money, I guess. Never is.' We all nodded as we knew it was the truth.