We walk into the ploughed mud field under the black sky of early morning. Weapons in our hands cold from the winter night and our fingertips sting from the frost. We move silently and slowly, treading carefully around the nest of IEDs.

We can hear them talking on their radios, they are watching us.

In an hour, we will see the first bands of sunlight on the horizon.

Then we will fight.

A true story of a typical skirmish with the Taliban.