Tornado: In the Eye of the Storm

by John Nichol

Dear Mum, The time is 0430 and I find myself drinking black coffee and contemplating the days ahead. All of the peace initiatives have failed and by the time you read this I expect we will be at war. It seems almost incomprehensible that, in 1991, such an undertaking is necessary. Everyone held out the hope that the fighting would never really happen. Many seem surprised it now will, and no one is prepared for the sacrifices which lie ahead. We are now on a shift system and I work from 0100 to 1300. Today it has rained since midnight and everywhere is flooding which seems really strange. With all the sandbags and puddles, I am reminded of the [First World War] trenches. Despite the immediate prospects, morale is high. Much emphasis has been placed on our training and equipment but that is all an echo of times past. Undoubtedly we are prepared, but even the best-laid plans have the habit of running amok. Let’s hope the war is decisive and short, though I can’t see it myself. Since this is probably my last letter until war breaks out, I just want to tell you that the last couple of weeks have been very happy for me. I will write whenever I can but circumstances might overtake me. Be brave yourself, I love you very much and am proud to be your son. Hopefully nothing will happen to me – or I will be very angry!44