I heard the sound of hushed, urgent voices, in front of me, behind me. There it is again, Sarge. I saw something. Honest, I did. What was it then, son? The old ruddy German army, or just one or two out for a stroll? Weren't a man, Sarge. It looked more like an horse. Or a cow. An horse? Or a cow? Out there in no man's land, you've been at the whiskey again, son. Your eyes is playing tricks on you. As the mist began to lift, the sunlight to filter through, I could see that I was standing in a wasteland of mud and craters, between two unending rolls of barbed wire. From both sides of me, I heard excited voices, the sound of laughter too, and then a barked order that everyone was to keep their heads down and no one was to shoot. I was drawn first one way and then the other, but each time I met the same impenetrable barrier of barbed wire. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw a man, in a cap and a grey uniform, clambering up out of the trenches, waving a white flag above his head. He began to clip his way methodically through the wire and pull it aside. Then, on my other side, there was a smaller, helmeted figure in a khaki greatcoat, and he too was holding up a white flag. The man in grey was closer to me than the other, approaching me slowly, but it was the one in khaki who was calling out to me all the time as he came. The shout came from behind me. I turned to see the small man in khaki weaving his way across no man's land towards me. Boyo, you're going the wrong way, see? I hardly knew which way to look. The two men could not have been more different. For a few silent moments, they stood on either side of me, just yards apart from each other. It was the young man in khaki who broke the silence. Now what do we do? I'm Welsh, you're flaming German, and I can't speak a word of it. It is good, said the German. Do not worry, I can speak a little English. Well, Jerry, what are we going to do then? There's two of us here, and only one horse to split between us. We don't want to start a war, do we? Do you know about horse's tummy? asked the German. Is he bad? His wounded leg, is it bad? The soldier in khaki bent over and lifted my leg, gently wiping the mud from around the wound. He's in a mess right enough, Jerry, but I don't think it's broken. It's a bad wound, though. We've got to get him seen to quick. Question is, who takes him? Ja, ja, ich glaube, I think, I have perhaps an idea. The German fished deep into his pocket and held up a coin. You choose, head or tail, I think you say. You know this game? I will show the coin to everyone on both sides, and then everyone will know that whoever wins the horse, it is only by chance. Then everyone will be happy. Ja, Tommy? Is good? All right then, the other one said. You go ahead, Jerry. You toss, and I'll call. The German tossed the coin, spinning it high into the air. As it fell to the ground, the Welshman called out in a loud voice. Ants! So, said the German, shaking his head, I am afraid this is the face of my Kaiser looking up at me, and he does not look at all pleased. You have fun. The horse is yours. He held out his hand. It is a strange world. In an hour or so, you and me, we will be trying our best to kill each other again. Take care, Tommy, my friend, and good luck. Auf Wiedersehen. They shook hands, looking one another in the eye the whole time. I had the feeling they did not want this moment to end. Same to you, boyo, the Welshman said, and he led me away. The Khaki soldiers were cheering me all along the line as I limped towards them through the gap in the wire.