As Ben idly watches her approach he’s thinking how sad it is for babies to be born into all of this misery and fear. How long will the child survive in the midst of this terrible war, and what kind of a life will it have growing up in the remains of a country shattered by endless death and pain? He has seen too many children die in this conflict, and others. He feels deep sympathy towards this poor young woman with such an uncertain future ahead of her.

The pregnant young woman comes closer. She appears to be having difficulty walking, dragging her feet in the dust as though she’s sick. Ben wonders if she’s okay. She seems to be on her own. Perhaps she needs help. It’s not unknown for soldiers to have to help deliver a baby when a female civilian suddenly goes into labour far away from the nearest hospital. A delicate situation. He flicks away his cigarette, stubs it into the dirt with his boot heel and starts walking towards her.

Winning hearts and minds is an important part of the SAS’s mission here. He believes strongly in that role. He doesn’t want these people to see him as their enemy. If there’s anything he can do to help, he will, including calling in a chopper to get her to a hospital.

Ben picks up his stride as she shuffles uncertainly towards the checkpoint. None of the other soldiers are paying her any attention. He’s within thirty yards of her now, close enough to see the vacant look in her eyes through the slit in her black niqab. She looks hazy and unfocused as though she’s drugged out of her mind. Her left hand is still clutching her distended belly. Her right hand is out of sight within the folds of the hijab. The thin cloth over her mouth is moving, as though she’s mumbling to herself. Repeating the same words over and over again.

Now Ben can hear what she’s saying. It’s a prayer.

And it’s only then, at that very last moment, that warning bells start to jangle violently in his mind like a hundred fire alarms going off at once. His blood turns to ice and his stomach twists. It’s too late for anyone to do anything except take cover. A yell bursts from his lips: DOWN DOWN EVERYBODY DOWN!

But his words seem to have little effect. His voice seems to echo inside his head, as the soldiers and civilians around him appear frozen in time and unable to hear him. His own body feels immensely heavy and it takes a giant effort to move. The nearest person to him is a young British squaddie, no more than about seventeen. Ben hauls him behind the cover of one of the olive-green Defenders and drags him to the ground, covering the startled lad’s body with his own.