Butterflies. They were in me. They filled me and consumed my every thought yet… I was still here, in this place, the place I had always found comfort in. I wandered round the halls, as my finger followed picking up the dust of history, remembering the memories I had shared in each square my feet step.

I admire each frames photograph on the wall, one last time I scanned each, pointing out each detail; Pierce, my best mate, stood proud and tall in his camouflaged uniform watching me through the camera.

It seems like yesterday, when we were on enemy lines. It was such a thrill to us at the time, we were finally there, in the action of it all. I remember being stood in our firing squads, us in delta. It was another planet to us, it wasn’t like we imagined, or what they taught us to. We’d often talk of home and what we would do when we got home, we longed for that comfort. We were out there for two and a half years. We lost him in an unexpected looting four hours before we got leave.

I hesitate but stop in the hallway and descend my finger from the wall to my side as I turn to the doorway of the dorms. Fusilier Jones, room 1906. The chip on the of the silver plaque may not look much at first glance but it holds so much more meaning. I admire the hallway again once more, I just cant believe I’m leaving for good. With a firm hand, I push the handle down and nudge it open as i walk in accompanied by a welcoming and familiar squeak.

The room though, is unfamiliar. With everything packed and gone, all is left is a few furniture, my mattress in a plastic cover. I walk over and find comfort in the bed, perched on the end I find myself looking out the window. It wasn’t much of a view but now looking at it, it’s rather pretty, British hills of green and a single house resting on the tip.

After a while of dwelling in my memories, I rub my hands together and bring myself back on my feet standing tall and strong like we were told. As I walk back down the hallway I don’t glance back staying strong and brave like we were told. With my head held high and back straight as a stick, I march securely out the building into the cool nights air. We were told not to look back, to keep our heads forward and walk with pride but a domineering instinct takes over me as I take one last glance back and give in as a single tear rolls down my cheek.