nxioa
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The sun was beating down on them but there was no surprise there. It had taken her a while to get used to the desert but now that she had, it truly felt like home. The sand had once annoyed her, getting in the cracks and creases of everything she owned. Nowadays though, she felt like she was made more of sand and stones than flesh and bones.
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Charlie feels like the only thing she’s done in this war is wait and she’s tired of it. The war wouldn’t be won by waiting. So she decides to do something about it, and finds herself in the desert, caught up in the whirlwind that is the SAS. What could go wrong?
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John looked down. The ground below was getting closer and closer. A flicker of relief settled in his chest. It wasn't an admirable death, but at least he would die instantly upon impact with the soil. It was better than anything the krauts would have done to him. The ground gets closer. And closer. Closer, closer, closer, closer…darkness.
or:
Buck is dead and John is falling out of the sky. He thinks he’s ready for death. Death isn't ready for him.