Empathy Task Ww1 Yr.10 Assessment

EMPATHY TASK. WW1 BY Manon Collins The fog still clung to the ground. We could barely arrest two feet in front of us. The mens voices were loud and projected off into the fog were they became lost and tangled in No Mans Land The grey sun seemed to be making its way up over the broken backs of the hills. The silhouettes of the men suddenly became clear. Faces dirty with mud, blood or anything that could be found in the trenches. Shoes without soles, shirts without sleeves we are the men of Ypres once of boy of 17 his completely thoughts were of women.Now a man of 20 his look only peeled for the shadow of a man, the point of a bayonet, the fright full image of gas consuming a comrades lungs. Me and the new(prenominal) men had not yet experienced a gas attack but the stories spread across the trenches with the message Remember your mask The shadow loomed with the thickened fog with a will to kill. The envious green mist was determined to push the boundaries. The word came ringing through the mist with great indispensableness Gas. GAAS The fumbling of mens hands trying to grab a mask became the priority of our mission. There was no chance without a mask.The song of a man without a mask rung out across the battlefield like a little girl who has lost her mother. Pivoting round only to spot Lindsay without a mask. The panic in his eyes was the last human characteristic that was displayed on his face. The gas consumed his lungs growing tighter each second. Not even I could imagine the discommode that was growing in him. The whites of his eyes glowed amongst the blood that was starting to evolve around the creases of his lips. His hand opening and closing, his fingertips searching for something to clasp onto to stop the pain they f tout ensemble upon the hem of my pants with a grip of an eagle.As he held my pants for his refuge the words he mumbled will never leave me. Tel describe themtell them I said bye. As his body became limp on my feet the words and noise of the other men became apparent again. Lindsey gone, he is Gone get along the other men, we are going back Shoes without soles, shirts without sleeves we are the men of Ypres. Trudging back leaving the dead innocent body behind us all human dignity thrown out the window everyman swearing under their breath When the war is done, never shall I touch a gun