I covered the top with layers of pine boughs. My shelter was protected on three sides and the roof was secure. I built a cooking and general-purpose...fire pit outside and a separate depression inside the shelter for coals at night. A trick I had read about for cold weather, which was surely coming, was to bury hot coals and sleep on top of it. It was also amazing what could be found in desk drawers: silverware, coffee cups, energy bars, and snacks. I even found a couple novels that might. ‘Yeah mate, I am a bit fucked up. My spit had an argument with a hill,’ he replied in an Australian accent. ‘Spit?’ Billy asked. ‘Spitfire, you know, fighter plane,’ Ray replied. ‘Don’t you fucking foot-soldiers know anything?’ ‘No, we’re too busy wading through the shit and bullets,’ Billy grinned, he liked this guy. They sat on a low wall, lit cigarettes, and toasted each other. ‘Lost comrades,’ Billy said, raising his class. ‘Lost comrades,’ the man echoed. ‘Billy Watkins,’ Billy said,. More

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