Anyway, I can do what I like in the house, though the upstairs is out of bounds as Sarge says the flooring up there is old and rotten and we don’t have enough money to get it fixed. It’s dangerous to walk on, he says. I had a peek up there once, though, when I was small, and the stairs were so loose and wobbly I was scared I’d fall so I came back down again pretty sharpish. I’m allowed to play out the back where we have a garden that looks out on to the woods and hills, though I’m only allowed to go to the woods when Sarge is with me. That’s a rule. And we don’t go to the village much. But I’m not too fussed about going there anyway, not after what happened in the shop that day, and, besides, there’s so much to do here. Even when it’s freezing out I can find things to occupy me here in the house and if he sees me looking idle Sarge will set me a task, like polishing our boots ready for manoeuvres the next day or loading then unloading the rifles. You have to be prepared for anything. That’s what Sarge says.

And today I got a taste of that; of how it feels to be a proper soldier. It’s my birthday today, my eleventh birthday. Now normally, on my birthday, I would start knitting a pair of socks for the cold months. Sarge forages the wool from the briars around the sheep field. He wraps it in string and brings it to my room with a tray of homemade oat biscuits and a glass of goat’s milk. That’s what he’s done every birthday since I was five and I first learned to knit.

But this birthday it’s different. Instead of wool I got this book and Sarge said that I must write in it every day, that it’s a logbook, something every good soldier needs. He also said that today is a very important day, a day I’ll remember all my life.

And he was right. It was a good day. Because today I made my first kill.

It began when it was still dark out. Sarge woke me earlier than usual, about 4 a.m. There wasn’t even time for a kit inspection because he said we had to hurry, that this was the best time to do it. You’ve got to catch them when they’ve just woken up, he said. Catch them unawares.

I wanted to stay in bed. It was freezing out and I didn’t want to go off into the woods. Plus it was my birthday and usually Sarge lets me sleep late on my birthday. So I pulled my doss bag over my head and told him to go away. That was a bad move. I knew, even before the words had left my mouth, that he would have me for insubordination, birthday or not. He didn’t say anything though. And that is always a bad sign. I heard him storm out of the room. After a minute or so I looked out from under the doss bag and saw him standing above me with a bucket of water. Before I could dart back under, he threw the whole lot over me.