We were out on the Marshes today. During the evacuation we took what we could; small packs with rations, clothing, and swords, daggers and pistols. The going was slow. We were up to our knees in gook. The enemy had taken and burned the village where we had been waylaid. Now we were on the run to the next village past the marshes and over the range. It would be a two day hike at this rate.

We were almost out of the marsh-land when we stopped as some bubbles erupted from the mire nearby. I had a bad feeling about this, but we went to check it out. The bubbles continued for a bit as we got to where they were coming from and then abruptly stopped. I reluctantly reached my hand in. I touched something familiar. I looked in anguish as I realized the human body we were pulling out of the soggy muck was my father.

With tears, I hauled him into my arms and we continued on out of the marshes to reach the village beyond the range. We could bury him there and find rest.