We were all staring in front of us, seeing pictures of other places and other people.

I was aware, as I always was, of the Forest, seeing it shine with its sinister green haze, seeing the white bleached town, the huddled villagers waiting for their food, but seeing yet more vividly the deep silences, the dark hollows, the silent avenues of silver birch.

Against this were the figures of the people who were dear to me.

It is strange how war selects and brings forward as one's eternal company the one or two souls who have been of importance in one's life.

One knows then, in those long, long threatening pauses, when the battle seems to gather itself together before it thunders its next smashing blow, those who are one's true companions.