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The women and the children gathered on the promontory overlooking the graveyard and the grim obelisk down at the shore seemed to stiffen, gather their courage and check their grief.Soldiers wearing disrupted pattern armour and sandy berets, carrying assault rifles came into view, seeming to move in and out of the inconstant mist, spread out over the hillock and down to the shore to mount outer guard over the graveyard.Out of the mist on the path cut into the side of the hillock came the piper blowing his crying laments (In the garb of old Gaul) accompanied by the drummer boy with his bugle horn on its golden cord hanging from his right shoulder tapping the stately rhythmic pace. Behind them came the vicar, clutching his breviary, in his stark clerical robe gently swirled by the errant breeze.Then came the dead, ten of them, mangled and torn, each borne on a primitive bier of kilt stretched over saplings; but not one bloody, each corpse lovingly cleansed with limbs straightened.The. But it was either that or nothing and nothing didn’t seem appropriate this early in our relationship.We ran across the apron and dived in and quickly began horsing around, splashing, dunking and generally having a good time. Then Michelle suggested that we play a game she called “horsey.” The girls would ride on our shoulders and they would then try to shove the other girl off. The guys job was to dodge and twist away to keep the opponent from getting a good grip and upsetting the horse and rider. It seemed harmless enough and soon we were engaged in the game with quite a high level of competitiveness. After one especially jarring collision I heard a little scream and then Michelle’s top floated past my face and landed in the water right in front of me. I tried to look up but Michelle was twisting and squirming saying she was going to get even. Moments later another top was floating in the pool. As I turned to head toward the side of the pool, Michelle pulled on my left ear signaling.
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