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The Battle

Extracts from this document...

Introduction

The Battle As the harsh chilling rain beat heavily down upon the young mans weary, bruised head, he began to instantly regret it. It was a stupid idea. No-one had forced it upon him, after all it was his life that he was now embarking upon, he no longer had to listen to that pathetic excuse for a father he had once looked up to and admired. In the distance the incessant thunder barked like a caged dog. But he did not hear it. For he was stuck inside his own head fighting with himself about the life changing decision he had made, while the truck crammed full of young nerve wracked and poorly motivated soldiers, keen to end this horrible war that had been raging on for ten years, sped through the abnormally brutal behaviour of the usually calm sunny skies, which were only normally disturbed by the ear-splitting screech of the F-15 Tornado fighter jet. ...read more.

Middle

He tried to push it aside, how could she ever find the nerve to do it when they had a child, and after all she had promised him and everything he had done to protect her. Another mortar shell screamed through the cold night air, crashing ruthlessly into the rain sodden ground. This time he was shocked, scared by the prospect that he could be the unlucky one next time, on the end of one of those shells. If he was being honest then the battle ahead terrified him beyond belief. The chance of death was huge as they entered the exceptionally dangerous Helmand province of Afghanistan. One of his best friends had been severely wounded in an earlier operation, when his body was cut open by flying shrapnel from a shell. It was gruesome to see his body when he came back to base, and he was lucky to survive. He had suffered a nasty gashed leg a few months back, and the nasty infection that he caught nearly meant he was forced home. ...read more.

Conclusion

Whether they would still remember him, he had been gone such a long time after all. He missed the wild parties and the quiet nights in the pub. How much he begged just to have one last night with his, friends and to return home to his wife in bed and his son sleeping serenely. Instead he was traipsing tiresomely through a frighteningly dangerous country, with as much motivation as a manic depressive. Out of the blue came the indistinctive sound of a barrage of bullets, mowing down the cluster of ongoing British soldiers. It was now that he reacted, he managed to hurl himself into a nearby dike in a last ditch attempt to cling onto his life which he could tell was easing from his grasp as he became surrounded by the aggressive afghan voices as the leader of the ambush screamed instructions at his troops, and he felt the cold, wet metal barrel of the gun being held at his head... ?? ?? ?? ?? Harry Chamberlain English Coursework 1 ...read more.

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