Johnny lay in his bed and looked out of the open window. Dark clouds drifted by and the branches of the hazelnut bush swayed in the wind. He let his gaze wander down his naked body and stared at his injured leg: it hurt more and more with every passing minute. But despite that, it was the best day of his life so far.
He would be going home. The loss a leg was a small price to pay for getting out of the trenches. Away from the constant shelling and fear a German gas attack. The nurses and food not out of a tin was a bonus. His Chistmas had come on the end of a bosh bayonet.
It has to be about time for his next round of pain killers, he thought. He would have called for a nurse if his pride weren't stronger than the pain. Someone would be along soon enough. Until then, he would bear it. That's one thing he'd learned all too well.