Jim Martin lay in the muddy trench unable the move with half his guts hanging out. He knew he was going to die, and soon. He looked back over his life and thought about his home. There had been no letters for months. It was like Clarrisa had forgotten about him. His mum and sisters had sent no word. He thought of the job he had loved in the bakery. Fresh bread, hot ovens and how he loved to sell the pristine loaves to the customers. Clarrisa had been a customer, he wondered what her problem was, and knew he would never know now. He wondered why he had given up his university education to help his mum in the bakery when dad died. He wondered even more why he had left the bakery to head for this muddy trench in France. Some misplaced loyalty to his country, England. Then he thought of that first kiss with Clarrisa which been wonderful for the virgin baker. And her the only woman he had known. Now he felt sad that no word from her had come before this had happened. That last time in the dark kitchen as Miles the big ginger tom cat rubbed up against his legs and Clarrisa spoke of her undying love and told him not to look at other women while he was at war. He wondered what women he was supposed to see in this dead, muddy hell.