Who Wants to Live Forever?

After a formal dinner recently, I was stood at the bar drinking whiskey with a friend, sharing the camraderie that only old soldiers can enjoy.

"How's your wife?" he asked. I had to confess to the failure.
"She left me."

He squeezed me around the shoulders. I'm not big on hugging other men but this is a bloke I stood next to in Afghanistan, and would stand next to wherever the fight took us.

We are brothers in arms. That is how our relationship is defined; we try to look strong but he has read my book and knows my weaknesses. He also has more medals than me and so I value his opinion. Indeed, he has so many medals that in his uniform, his chest has the compelling attraction of a lady's cleavage: It's rude to stare but you just can't stop yourself.

"At least it will give you a sequel." Hs Irish grin was understated but no less meaningful. "Now you've written a book," he said, "you'll live forever."

http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Trouble-W...