Volleys of shots rang out as we stormed, <br />the trenches that were meandering formed, <br />in the distance snipers were firing from a wall <br />into the cover of the nearest ditch we did fall. <br /> <br />A trooper next to me suddenly smiled <br />and everywhere around us was death’s smell, <br />the winter sun was very weak but mild <br />while our ears sang from a mortar shell. <br /> <br />In succession into the trench we did leap, <br />I fired from the hip from the point of entry, <br />the light machinegun did chattering sweep <br />in a enemy camp in a bordering country <br /> <br />where as soldiers we had parachuted in <br />and a passing bullet burnt my arm’s skin.<br /><br />Gert Strydom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/volleys-of-shots-rang-out-as-we-stormed/
