Man at War – Excerpt No. 17

Having seen enough for one day the Sergeant pulled his service revolver from his case. Before he could even pull the trigger someone tapped his shoulder and whispered.

“Do that and you die,” the man whispered.

The voice was so entirely devoid of emotions, with each syllable timed to the cadence of marching soldiers. His mind never had the time to fully register those words, let alone his emotional response to them.

There came a blur from behind, followed by the Kraut’s head being turned violently a full three-hundred-and-sixty degrees. Before the body dropped, Murphy realized there was someone else ahead.

a cinematic photo of a column of British soldiers marching through no man's land in perfect formation at night during WWI, with the fog rolling in, casting a mystical gloom over the desolate landscape, the soldiers' faces set with determination, their uniforms and equipment silhouetted against the faint moonlight, the fog swirling around their knees, the only sound the soft crunch of boots on the damp earth, the photography capturing the eerie atmosphere of the war-torn landscape, with muted colors and deep shadows, the British soldiers' facial features stern and focused, their skin pale in the dim light, their eyes fixed on some point ahead, the formations precise and orderly, a testament to their training and discipline, the overall mood one of tense anticipation and foreboding.

Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.