Remember Me - Prologue

Prologue

June 1982

When does a love story really begin? the soldier thought.  The first day you meet someone, or the day when every breath becomes impossible without them?  Or maybe a story only really starts when you lose everything.  When you look back and remember the mistakes of the past.     

Click.  The blast from the Argentinian anti-personnel mine span the tall lieutenant around, knocking him off his feet.  Ears ringing, but surprisingly calm, the soldier knew he'd been hit.  Reaching down, he felt the ragged exit wound with the pads of his gloved fingers.  It doesn't seem too bad he thought.

Holding up his right hand, stopping the members of his section from crossing the road and coming to his aid, the lieutenant tried to take deep, even breaths.

'I'm OK, lads' Daniel called out, gritting his teeth.  'It's just a flesh wound.  Check the ground in front before you come over for me.  General Galtieri's boy's put one in the wrong place.  And there may be others.' 

The soldier lay with his back to the cold, hard ground.  You lazy bugger.  That one wasn't supposed to be there.

Removing his glovers and taking a field dressing from his combat jacket pocket, he used his teeth to rip open the cloth packaging.  Placing the gause pad on the smaller entry wound inside his right thigh, the pressure stemmed the seeping flow of bright red arterial blood pooling under his leg. 

Staring up into the cloudless heavens, Daniel knew it wasn't the fault of the mine-layer, who probably couldn't even read the instructions for the FMK-1.  He'd heard many of the invading Argentinian conscripts were illiterate peasants.  Thank god he buried the extra one in the grid too deep, or I'd have lost a foot.

Nor was it the fault of Army Intelligence, who'd found the maps to the anti-personnel minefields around Port Stanley on the day of the surrender a few days before.  This one's right at your door, Danny boy.  Distracted by the colour of the sapphire blue sky, humming a familiar tune as he checked the approach to the crossing, the section commander had taken it for granted the eighth mine in the row would be the last.

Blue Eyes.  Why can't I get that bloody song out of my head?

Lying back on the turf, his life blood escaping his body, Daniel thought of the girl he'd left behind, knowing he had given up any chance she would be waiting for his return.  I wonder what she's doing now?  Or if she ever forgave me.

My leg's numb.  I can't feel any pain.  I'm not sure that's a good thing.  Who will the Army tell?  Maybe Becky.  The Army will bury me here.  I'm so far from England, I doubt anyone will ever visit the spot where I fell.  Beautiful Becky.  But she had green eys, not blue.  And I thought I loved her until she cheated on me.  No, that's not right.  That was Maggi, not Becky.  What's wrong with me?  Why can't I think straight.  Why are my memories all juumbled up?

His vision starting to spin, Daniel fought to keep his eyes open.

What was the cafe owner's name?  Maybe it would have been different if he hadn't lost my letter.  A face came to Daniel through the fog.  Lizzie Blackman.  The dragon lady.  But she didn't work in the cafe?

Drifting in and out of reality, a kaleidoscope of colour exploding behinds his eyelids, Daniel found himself back on the pavement outside the cafe, looking in through the glass plate window. 

The booths weren't green.  They were red.  There was a time when I was certain I had all the answers.  Why can't I focus?  I've been in the dark fighting shadows for too long.  Where is she?  Why can't I find her? 

Holding his fingers in front of his eyes, Daniel tried to grasp the last image he held of her. 

Fireworks.  Why am I thinking about fireworks?   I have to stay awake.  I have to hold onto something.  Remember how it all started.  They're the only memories I have left.

The voices calling out in his head were fading.  Lids flickering, his eyeballs rolling upwards in their sockets, Daniel lost consciousness...