Filthy smell of vomit deteriorated the atmosphere as he piles the boat up with leafy slimy puke. Is this his last journey or even his last breath, praying and praying if he will make it through. Can he rely on his army mates? Strong waves attack, smashing against his boat as they reach the beach. Slowly but surely the bridge lowered on the tip of the boat. BANG!!
Gory heads were severed from their lifeless bodies. Breath taking sounds of the German machine guns hitting bullets at his colleagues scarred him with fear. The Huns were killing them row by row. Leaving the departed on the bat he jumped bravely into the bloodbath ocean, to escape death. Beneath the water the zipping sounds of bullets continued to fire in the sea around him. After struggling to scramble to the surface the sight of dead bodies floating in blood weakened his strength. The taste of blood horrified him whilst grey and black atmosphere weekend his eyes, this was all explosions and smoke.
After taking a sight of the chaos on the beach he hid himself selfishly but bravely behind deceased bodies. No longer was it a picturesque setting of crystal water and soft, light grains that put smiles on children’s faces. Now it was a scene straight out of hell with fire and explosions of destruction, a place where the