I am still recovering from the pneumonia so I'm sleeping a lot in the day. I didn't have my glasses on when you telephoned. You told me to look out the bedroom window towards the grove. I see an outline of a person, in a soldier's uniform and it looks like they are climbing a tree but I can't make it out. I reach up for the high shelf, but somehow bang my head and fall back. I must've been blacked out a while when I come to because it's dusk now. My glasses are beside me and so I put them on and I peer out the window. Although whatever you wanted me to see is probably long gone. I let out yelp of terror and pain. My soldier is hanging from the tree vacantly staring, lifeless and limp. I realise it's my Ron. And I didn't get to him in time.