It was noon, and the air shimmered in the breathless heat, the sweat darkening his shirt and making it cling wetly to his torso as the dead leaves crunched beneath the hundreds of boots and the shrill throb of thousands of cicadas rang in his head like a ceaseless chainsaw. Jim was tired and unbearably hot beneath the weight of his backpack, his mouth so dry it hurt to swallow after not having had a drink for over twenty-four hours. It had become a matter of pride as well as endurance for all of them to still have a full water bottle at the end of the day – but it was also a necessary evil, for fresh water was in extremely short supply, and not even the pack animals had been watered.

The man mountain that was Big Bert marched alongside him, his expression grim, his eyes alert as always for an enemy ambush, but disinclined to waste his energy by talking. Ernie looked small beside him in the midday glare, his hand resting lightly over the stock of his carbine, his eyes also swivelling left and right into the shadeless forest, all too aware that the column was vulnerable. His shirt was also black with sweat, his reddened face streaming with it beneath the broad-brimmed hat.

‘I bet we get bloody digging duty again,’ he grumbled. ‘My belly’s stuck to my spine I’m so hungry, and my mouth feels like glue.’

‘You and me both,’ rasped Jim, his own gaze darting through the endless rows of teak trees. ‘We can only hope there’s water in the next river – but I do wish those cicadas would shut up. They’re giving me a headache.’

They marched on in silence with no sign of enemy, animal or bird, and soon the high-pitched throb of the cicadas faded as they reached their night’s camp only to find that the river was dry, its stony bed as rough and parched as their throats.

It was still light, the heat as ferocious as ever as they came to a halt and made camp – but there was to be no rest, for Ernie’s prediction had proved right, and their battalion of sappers was immediately ordered to dig defence positions and slit trenches.

Jim worked with a will, the promise of food and sleep keeping him going. Sentries were posted, mortars put into position, and the machine guns sited so they were directed at their northern flank, and to fully cover the east and west perimeters of the open jungle – west where the enemy had been reported, and east where the column had left a wide belt of crushed teak leaves that could easily be followed by an enemy patrol.