Story

The beeping of his watch called him to wakefulness; reluctantly his eyes opened. Not that it made any difference in the pitch darkness. Gradually he became aware of the measured breathing of another, less than a metre away, as well as the steel weight on his chest. Resisting an impulse to sit up straight (and so bash his head into the canvas just above), he struggled out of the tiny basha, peering around. Pale moonlight washed over the surreal scene, with identical tents stretching out in orderly rows in every direction as far as the eye could see (which wasn't very far). Massive trees stood sentinel over the multitudes, uncaring of the dreams and worries of the sleepers below.

Wearily climbing to his feet, working out the protests of muscles and bones unused not just to the harsh activity of the past week, but also the sleeping on the stony ground, he made his way to the rendezvous. No sign of the other 3 that should have been making their way there as well; was he late? A spark of fear gripped him. A touch of a watch button showed in a flash of pale blue light that his worries were unfounded, and yet he stood alone.

Should he try to find and wake them? One futile attempt to peer into the dark innards of one of the horde of tents dissuaded him from this course; each of the bodies lying there looked alike in the gloom, and around each tent stretched ropes and pegs, which would trip the unwary. Looked like this night, and this duty was to be done alone.

To abandon it and go back to sleep? Tempting course, but there was the threat of a surprise inspection by the superiors. And this was already a punishment, so what followed would certainly not be pleasant. To be a prowler, and roam the perimeter of the camp, or sentry and stay at that spot? No easy decisions to be made.

Ultimately the deciding factor was something rather mundane; the call of nature dictated a walk out to the latrines, and hence he continued the circuit of the large camp. Weighed down not just by the equipment and weapon he carried (a weapon which was strangely comforting, in the darkness) but also by his fury at his absent peers. His sole comfort and guide the occasional reflection of light off the wicked barbed wire and the twinkle of cyalume sticks demarcating the presence of the wire to the unwary.

It's all too easy to laugh at stories of ghosts and demons in the presence of companions, or to scoff at others' fear, when in the light. But that night every movement was magnified, every tree's foliage seemed a home to unnatural terrors. Every sound weighed heavily on him, and his only companion was his shadow.

And then began a light drizzle; and so continued for the longest night of his life.