Everyone was doing their bit to hasten this war to victory, and even Pauline had rolled up her sleeves to help out at the WVS while Frank and Brendon had got involved in something down in the west of England – and with the news being relayed by radio to the troops in the Far East, it seemed the tide was at last turning in the Allies’ favour.

Jim crushed the last of his cigarette under the heel of his boot and then stretched luxuriously to ease the stiffness in his muscled back and legs. Life had changed radically for all of them – except his father, Ron, who remained as strong and purposeful as always – but when Jim thought of the easy, careless life he’d lived before this war, it was as if it had belonged to someone else, a stranger far removed from the hardened fighting man he’d become.

He stared out at the thundering river, the memories of past battles, the sights and sounds of gunfire and the screams of wounded men flashing in his head like a reel of film. He’d seen enough blood, gore and horror in the dying days of the First War, but the trenches had been nothing like this cat-and-mouse game they were involved in now. Jungle warfare meant being on alert twenty-four hours a day, the tension rising at every sound coming from the steaming jungle, knowing that at any minute they could be involved in a fight to the death against men who seemed to have no concept of fear or compassion.

Jim had seen things that would live with him for the rest of his life, but for now they had to be firmly pushed to the deepest recesses of his mind. Survival was all – he’d deal with the aftermath once the war was over.

His dark thoughts were broken by the familiar drone of Air Commando C-47s advancing. It was now fully dark, but against the star-filled sky he could see that each plane was towing a single glider which would be released over the line of signal fires that had now been lit along the perimeters of the sandbar runway. It was to be a swift turn-around in case the Japanese had spotted the C-47s and came in pursuit, so everyone was on alert.

As Jim was part of the unloading party, he kept his men on stand-by as one by one the gliders whooshed overhead. But they were coming in too high and too fast, so overshot the runway and ploughed into the soft sand, narrowly missing the few trees that hadn’t been cleared.

Muttered curses went through the ranks, for now it meant that the assault motorboats they were delivering would have to be dragged over half a mile to the designated river crossing place.