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Hardin Horion

Copyright 2012 by Hary Fery

Smashwords Edition

Story no. 2: SOLES


It was sometime when war begun, at BH Presidency building I received a gift – boots of a dark cherry colour, light, soft and comfortable, with hardened leather soles, more for party than for war. And it meant a lot to have a good and comfortable boots in war. In those boots I left for Vrhovine village, a frontline towards Vitez, small town under control of HVO.

I was at Advanced Headquarter (Istureno komandno mjesto: IKM), 2 kilometres from frontline. Police officer entered my room; his fist was folded in white towel and blood trickled from it. With laugh he said: I was cleaning my gun when it went off on its own. I laughed too. He was experienced fighter, although he was only nineteen years old. While I swathed his wounds I asked: How did you get this? He nervously answered: Ok, I did it on purpose. I came in this unit for some action, not to guard frontline. It is job for Army, and I am from Special Ops.

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