As Thomas crouched down he smelt the smell of blood which was foul, like a year old rotting pile of rubbish. He was getting sick of the sight of dead soldiers, who stood together til the end. The hard as rock metal as wet from the sweat of his hands as he aimed and got ready to pull the trigger. He could taste smoke from all the shots being fired and the bombs that are as big as an elephant. He could hear moans from the wounded and the explosions that had made nearly everyone close to death. He went to pull the trigger but someone got to him first. Thomas instantly fell to the ground, ignored by his fellow soldiers; to them he was just another dead body.