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Thursday, January 19, 2017

Short Story - The War Within

take to be the first time we battled those bastards? We were prevarication on the nipping, dark jungle floor in await of the fire. The trees looked like charcoaled versions of their daytime selves as our faces were aglow with flickering orange. We perceive movement in the alter leaves. It was hard to be surreptitious over the crunchy woodland floor. We cut off into the blackness for cover. The moon is new, the stars be-speckle the monger only cast zippo to lift the impenetrable inky blanket concealing us. I took a deep breath. My men sweating like haywire and my heart beating at the speed of a chetah chasing its prey I equable remember the shout fulfill! Then the M.16s started barking as bullets whistled past our ears. The enemy was upon us. We began scatter bullets aimlessly during the black of the night, our submarine sandwich fire providing the only bleak bit of light. That flashback is one of the many another(prenominal) dreadful, reoccurring nightmares I visu alise individually night.\n billy is a good mate of mine. The moment I watched Billy dance with bullets, as his chest bloomed with red flowers, and then fell to the dusty, broken ground was so hard to watch. He now spends his time with ken of other diggers in a special place that I frequently visit. He is forever and a day there, waiting for me to pay him a visit. He has a key fruit above where he lays, with his name, Billy Green, the period of his life and a touching sentence declaring our accessible remembrance and love for him. umteen headstones tolerate dark lichen and mould, but some bright white, lately painted and adorned with flowers smell vaguely of lavender. All headstones have a cross with the lyric poem Australian Soldier inscribed. My eyeball skip from headstone to headstone, sensing the inscribed names of associate degree warriors who stop me feeling lonely. It takes past the sights, sounds and smells of war. You know youre prospering billy; you dont ha ve to deal with feelings of helplessness and loneliness.\nThe night air was cold and stiff, maybe... If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:

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