But my transfer had already been set in place and there was no getting around it. Luckily, a happy twist was coming. ‘Look, Nims, we’ll give you four weeks leave rather than the standard three,’ said my sergeant major. ‘How does that sound?’ This was both good news and bad. The good: I’d previously promised my wife Suchi that we’d take a beach holiday when my next period of leave was granted – I was certainly looking forward to a little rest and recuperation. The bad: there was no way I’d last four weeks sleeping on a beach lounger, reading, listening to music, staring out at sea, sunbathing.
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