'My hand moved to his head, the fingers sank in spongy flesh and his brain dripped through my fingers.' Harrowing words from a man's diary. No one could ever imagine the horrors of war or the injuries and suffering these brave men went through in the trenches, or the sadness of losing yet another one of your men. He wanted to shut out the sights and smells of death, and despite being badly injured, he took it on himself to write to the families of the deceased. His lungs and eyes had been permanently damaged by the yellow gas, but he never gave up hope and fought his own private battles along the way. When the time came for him to return to front line fighting he feared he may not survive another battle. As the funeral pyre is lit at the end of his life, he will always be remembered - Commanding Officer Havildar Param Singh, 57th Wilde's Rifles.