My eyesight is fading – just like the rest of me. Darkness is closing in, its fingers pulling me ever deeper; so deep that no one will ever see or hear me again. Even writing these words is draining what little strength remains to me. No more access to a computer, just the agony of pushing a pencil stub across the pages of yet another exercise book. How many books on the pile now? Too many to count, but the fact that you are reading this means that someone has found and transcribed what I have written. Too late for me of course, but at least the truth will now be told. Not just my story – my passing won’t even make the footnotes of history – but the story of men who died for something they cared about, something that those who came after seem to have forgotten.
If this sounds like I am talking in riddles I quite understand. A few months ago I would have felt the same way. Logic, common sense and science tell us such things cannot happen. That’s what I thought too, until it happened to me.
Let me explain so that you can avoid the same fate as me.
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