a hard time." They laughed as Steele slid over the trench parapet.

The darkness was complete. A pale moon shimmered overhead, but not even the sun's powerful rays fully penetrated the thick jungle canopy. Inching forward on his stomach Steele froze every few feet. He listened intently for any sign of the enemy. Polanski screamed again.

A high-pitched shriek, spine-chilling in its pain racket intensity shattered the otherwise quiet night. Guided by the incessant screams, Steele worked his way closer to what looked like an abandoned trench system. He was close now, very close. Stealthily he slithered into the trench.

A large rat scurried across his legs. In the pale moonlight, he noticed the silhouette of a dead Viet Minh sprawled on top of the trench parapet. Rats gorged themselves onclubs Steele stumbled or was dragged into the bunker. His vision blurred. The walls of the bunker exploded in brilliant hues of red and white as he was struck again.

### His last conscious image was of Polanski seated at a makeshift table, drink in hand. At his side was an officer in Russian uniform. He patted Polanski on the back congratulating him on a job well done.

"It was brilliant how you managed to set off the red smoke grenade at the bunker Comrade Polanski, signalling to us where the dreaded Steele could be located. Rendering the team's radio inoperative was brilliant thinking as well, my congratulations. Tell me again how you pushed the blame on an inexperienced officer, I love it. There may be a future in the