"I would always take the shortcut home, when it was my turn to walk the dog. It was quicker and easier, it wasn't my dog you see but my older brothers. He had gone away to War; always the better son at everything. School, Athletics the lot I hated him for it.

Well this dog always took its time, its leg up at every moment. I began to hate it and would drag it round the walk.

The grave yard was dark and foreboding at twilight, but I wanted to get home. I had no choice but to get it over and done with, so with a deep breath I went in.

The bushes looked almost alive, the shadows were dark and menacing and that damn dog sniffing, stopping at every moment. Every time I would tug it and every time it would yelp.

The dog stopped and whimpered it wouldn't go on any more. I tugged and cursed it but it was rigid to the spot. I suddenly felt very cold, the wind had picked up. I could hear something a long way off like a storm. The sun had gone blood red as it was setting behind the trees again, I cursed the dame dog as it lay on the ground, telling it I wasn't going to carry it.

I could hear it more clearly now the sounds of shouting and a closer sound of hoofs in fact very close. The snort or bark of breathing from a frightened horse. I picked up the dog and ran falling twice, the sound was almost behind me I didn't look round the foul smell coming from over my shoulder. Out we shot and I ran home never once looking back...

When I got in Mum and Dad were sitting at the table a telegram in there hands, both were crying. I started to tell them of my ordeal but they just passed me the telegram, my brother was dead killed on the battle field on his horse. I just stood still the sounds still ringing my head."