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“God, we’ll stink for a week.” “Let’s git out,” muttered Chrisfield, “o’ this mbt sneakers goddam village.” They ran out through an orchard, broke through a hedge and climbed up the hill across the open fields. Down the main road an anti-aircraft gun had started barking and the sky sparkled with exploding shrapnel. The “put, put, put” of a machine gun <a href="http://www.cheaptruereligiononline.com/true-religion-straight-leg-jeans-c-240.html"><strong>true religion mens jeans</strong></a> had begun somewhere. Chrisfield strode up the hill in step with his friend. Behind them bomb followed bomb, and above them the air seemed full of exploding shrapnel and droning planes. The cognac still throbbed a little in their blood. They stumbled against each other now and then as they walked. From the top of the hill they turned and looked back. Chrisfield felt a tremendous elation thumping stronger than the cognac through his veins. Unconsciously he put his arm round his friend’s shoulders. They seemed the only live things in a reeling world. MBT Trainers UK Below in the valley a house was burning brightly. From all directions came the yelp of anti-aircraft guns, and overhead unperturbed continued the leisurely singsong of the motors. Suddenly Chrisfield burst out laughing. “By God, Ah always have fun when Ah’m mbt lami out with you, Andy,” he said. They turned and hurried down mbt sale the other slope of the hill towards the farms where they were quartered. II As far as he could see in every direction were the grey trunks of beeches bright green with moss on one side. The ground was thick with last year’s leaves that rustled maddeningly with every step. In front of him his eyes followed other patches of olive-drab moving among the tree trunks. Overhead, through the mottled light and dark green of the leaves he could see now and then a patch of heavy grey sky, greyer than the silvery trunks that moved about him in every direction as he walked. He strained his eyes down each alley until they were dazzled by the reiteration of mottled grey and green. Now and then the rustling stopped ahead of him, and the olive-drab patches were still. Then, mbt sneakers above the clamour of the blood in his ears, he could hear batteries “pong, pong, pong” in the distance, and the woods ringing with a sound like hail as a heavy shell hurtled above the tree tops to end in a dull rumble miles away. Chrisfield was soaked with sweat, but he could not feel his arms or legs. Every sense was concentrated in eyes and ears, and in the consciousness of his gun. Time and again he pictured himself taking sight at something grey that moved, and firing. His forefinger itched to press the trigger. He would take aim very carefully, he told himself; he pictured a dab of grey starting up from behind a grey tree trunk, and the sharp detonation of his rifle, and the dab of grey rolling among the last year’s leaves. A branch carried his helmet off his head so that it rolled at his feet and bounced with a faint metallic sound against the root of a tree. He was blinded by the sudden terror that seized him. His heart seemed to roll from side to side in his chest mbt discount . He stood stiff, as if paralyzed for a moment before he could stoop and mbt uk pick the helmet up. There was a curious taste of blood in his mouth. “Ah’ll pay ‘em fer that,” he muttered between clenched teeth. His fingers were still trembling when he stooped to pick up the helmet, which he put on again very carefully, fastening it with the strap under his chin. Furious anger had taken hold of him. The olive-drab patches ahead had moved forward again. He followed, looking eagerly to the right and the left, praying he might see something. In every direction were the silvery trunk of the beeches, each with a vivid green streak on one side. With every step the last year’s russet leaves rustled underfoot, maddeningly loud. Almost out of sight among the moving tree trunks was a log. It was not a log; it was a bunch of mbt kisumu grey-green cloth. Without thinking Chrisfield strode towards it. The silver trunks of the beeches circled about <a href="http://www.cheaptruereligiononline.com/true-religion-bootcut-jeans-c-238.html"><strong>true religion bootcut</strong></a> him, waving jagged arms. It was a German lying full length among the leaves. Chrisfield was furiously happy in the MBTS Sandals angry pumping of blood through his veins. He could see the buttons on the back of the long coat of the German, and the red band on his cap. He kicked the German. He could feel the ribs against his toes through the leather of his boot. He kicked again and again with all his might. The German rolled over heavily. He had no face. Chrisfield felt the hatred suddenly ebb out of him. Where the face had been was a <a href="http://www.cheaptruereligiononline.com/true-religion-straight-leg-jeans-c-240.html"><strong>true religion sale</strong></a> spongy mass of purple and yellow and red, half of which stuck to the russet leaves when the body rolled over. Large flies with bright shiny green bodies circled about it. In a brown clay-grimed hand was a revolver. Chrisfield felt his spine go cold; the German had shot himself. He ran off suddenly, breathlessly, to join the rest of the reconnoitering squad. The silent beeches whirled about mbt stockists him, waving gnarled boughs above his head. The German had shot himself. That mbt shoes clearance was why he had no face. Chrisfield fell into line behind the other men. The corporal waited for him. “See anything?” he asked. “Not a goddam thing,” muttered Chrisfield almost inaudibly. The corporal went off to the head of the line. Chrisfield was alone again. The leaves rustled maddeningly loud underfoot. III Chrisfield’s eyes were fixed on the leaves at the tops of the walnut trees, etched like metal against the bright colorless sky, edged with flicks and fringes of gold where the sunlight struck them. He stood stiff and motionless at attention, although there was a sharp pain in his left ankle that seemed swollen enough to burst the worn boot. He could feel the presence of men on both sides of him, and of men again beyond them. It seemed as if the mbt shoes sale stiff line of men in olive-drab, standing at attention, waiting endlessly for someone to release them from their erect paralysis, must stretch unbroken round the world. He let his glance fall to the trampled grass of the field where the regiment was drawn up. Somewhere behind him he could hear the clinking of spurs at some officer’s heels. Then there was the sound of a motor on the road suddenly shut off, and there were steps coming down the line of men, and a group of officers passed hurriedly, with a business- like stride, as if they did nothing else all their lives. Chrisfield made out eagles on tight khaki shoulders, then a single star and a double star, above which was a red ear and some grey hair; the general passed too soon for him to make out his face. Chrisfield swore to himself a little because his ankle hurt mbt shoes clearance so. His eyes travelled back to the fringe of the trees against the bright sky. So this was what he got for those weeks in dugouts, for all the times he had thrown himself on his belly in the mbt sneakers mud, for the bullets he had shot into the unknown at grey specks that moved among the grey mud. Something was crawling up the middle of his back. He wasn’t sure if it were a louse or if he were imagining it. An order mbt cheap mbts lami had been shouted. Automatically he had changed his position to parade rest. Somewhere far away a little man was walking towards the long drab lines. A wind had come up, rustling the stiff leaves of the grove of walnut trees. The voice squeaked above it, but Chrisfield could not make out what it said. The wind in the trees made a vast rhythmic sound like mbt chapa the churning of water astern of the transport he had come over on. Gold flicks and olive shadows danced among the indented clusters of leaves as they swayed, as if sweeping something away, against the bright sky. An idea came into Chrisfield’s head. Suppose the leaves should sweep in broader and broader curves until they should reach the ground and sweep and sweep until all this was swept away, all these pains and lice and uniforms and officers with maple leaves or eagles or single stars or double stars or triple stars on their shoulders. He had a sudden picture of himself <a href="http://ec.tcren.cn/view.php?id=8"><strong>Handmade Jagannatha tie dye Tapestries and Shirts Sale - Dandavats</strong></a> in his old comfortable overalls, with his shirt open so that the wind caressed his neck like a girl blowing down it playfully, lying on a shuck of hay under the hot Indiana sun. Funny he’d thought all that, he said to himself. Before he’d known Andy he’d never have thought of that. What had come over him these days? The regiment was marching away in columns of fours. Chrisfield’s ankle gave him sharp hot pain with every step. His tunic was too tight and the sweat tingled on his back. All about him were sweating irritated faces; the woollen tunics with their mbt shoes australia high collars were like straight-jackets that hot afternoon. Chrisfield marched with his fists clenched; he &copy; 2011 SEO Article Directory, Find Online Articles, Backlinks, Search engine optimization