A2R.
Member
It was already too late. The helicopter was spinning and descending, flames engulfed the side where the rocket hit.
Inside, two soldiers were dead instantly from the impact. Their bodies lay on top of other soldiers still buckled into their chairs, desperately trying to free themselves before we hit the ground.
I figured there was no use.
Men were yelling orders that meant nothing, directed at no one. The captains were trying to level out the aircraft and the red light inside the helicopter proved the vanity of it all.
500 meters from ground.
Among the chaos, a soldier managed to free himself from his death harness and through the fire and flames he jumped, meeting the unforgiving blades of the helicopter.
A soldier to my right was praying with a rosary and to my left, a man whose neck was sliced by the explosion's shrapnel. Directly across from me was our youngest soldier. He was staring back at me. His eyes were calm, ready for death. Not a tear nor fear betrayed his gaze. He just sat, waiting.
// Sorry, I can't continue. It's quite a touchy topic. I'm sure most of you know where I conjured up the idea. I just wanted to test my writing capability to see whether or not I can create scenes, images. Once again, I'm sorry if this is too much. I shouldn't even be pressing submit. Comment none-the-less. Did you feel it?//
Inside, two soldiers were dead instantly from the impact. Their bodies lay on top of other soldiers still buckled into their chairs, desperately trying to free themselves before we hit the ground.
I figured there was no use.
Men were yelling orders that meant nothing, directed at no one. The captains were trying to level out the aircraft and the red light inside the helicopter proved the vanity of it all.
500 meters from ground.
Among the chaos, a soldier managed to free himself from his death harness and through the fire and flames he jumped, meeting the unforgiving blades of the helicopter.
A soldier to my right was praying with a rosary and to my left, a man whose neck was sliced by the explosion's shrapnel. Directly across from me was our youngest soldier. He was staring back at me. His eyes were calm, ready for death. Not a tear nor fear betrayed his gaze. He just sat, waiting.
// Sorry, I can't continue. It's quite a touchy topic. I'm sure most of you know where I conjured up the idea. I just wanted to test my writing capability to see whether or not I can create scenes, images. Once again, I'm sorry if this is too much. I shouldn't even be pressing submit. Comment none-the-less. Did you feel it?//