By Raffique Shah
November 14, 2022

He would turn up at one of the three army camps we had in those days—Teteron, Ogden or Union Hall. His kit, such as they could be so considered—sometimes a tunic worn past its expiry date, other times a plain shirt, both items looking as though they were specially laundered for that important day; trousers neat with seams; footwear that he’d somehow acquired that resembled drill boots, likelier “washikongs”; and most importantly, his facial hair and features groomed to perfection.
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