I am still wondering why you kept referring to the rabbits as "Charlie", and your muttered curses about "cong this" and "cong that".
Once during the hunt, I accidentally broke wind, and Rich dived behind a bush. He ripped out his tiny motorola and began screaming into it, demanding "Fast Movers", whatever those are.
"Nape the godless bastards, Now!", he cried.
"We have casualties! I have a man down.
Oh God, where are my legs? I can't feel my legs!
Send the Jolly Green, and give me an arty strike on my position! That's right. MY position! Charlie is all around us!"
With tears in his eyes, he turned to me and said, "I always knew I would die in battle. It is my destiny. Save yourself, forget about me. That's an order, Gump."
The only thing to do was to butt stroke him with the 12 gauge.
When he regained what passes for consciousness with Rich, I forced him to eat a couple of salt tablets, and drink some water.
He calmed down a bit then, but kept muttering, "The Horror, the Horror..."