descriptive creative coursework

It was the middle of July, in a cave in the heart of Afghanistan. Steve was lying in an undercut under a mountain, thinking to himself how he got there. Squashed up against the side of the undercut, blood slowly seeping out of his left leg and right shoulder. He took his rifle off and laid it next to him.
All you could hear was the wind blowing through the leaves, the birds chirping and the sounds of shouting men. Steve tried to sit up and move his body so his back was against the side of the undercut. As he moved he realised that the pain in his left hip wasn’t a gunshot wound but in fact he had fractured his pelvis when he fell down from the ledge about 20 meters above him.The area was swarming with men looking for him, he felt kind of special because, they were looking for him.
Steve reached down into his vest and pulled out two field dressings. Just as Steve went to tare the dressing, there was a rustling of tree branches. Steve dropped everything and slowly lifted his rifle up. He was anticipating a Taliban fighter to come out of the bushes, but when a small fox wondered out of the bushes, he sighed a sign of relief. Being in the middle of Afghanistan there was no one that spoke English. Steve picked up the dressing and slowly put his rifle down and picked the dressing up. When Steve had been sitting there for 3 hours nothing really changed, there was still a band of Taliban fighters searching for him. His gun shot wounds were slowly seeping out through the dressings and his hip had also dislocated. Then the thought that every single soldier gets, hits Steve. “Why the hell am I in this country? How did I even end up in the special forces? And how did I not know that Murphy’s Law would strike when you let a RUPERT take over the troop!” A small noise was created about 5 meters away, Steve’s head shot up looking for what made that noise. Then the culprit appeared… a small deer poked its head through the bush. The deer slowly dropped its head and smelt Steve, it was like it knew that Steve was screwed.
You would think a forest in the middle of Afghanistan during peace time would be quiet, but you would be wrong and Steve knew exactly how it felt to be Public Enemy number one, Osama Bin Laden. There must have been twenty plus men carrying Ak-47s looking for him. Steve wasn’t expecting a young Taliban fighter to walk directly towards the undercut in which, Steve was sitting in off guard. The Young Fighter walked straight past him bleeding out. The boy stopped in front of the undercut, and pulled out a small box from his pocket. From the box he pulled out a cigarette and lighter, and then lit the cigarette. He didn’t move a single muscle. The young fighter dropped the cigarette and walked away. Steve waited for the footsteps to fade away. He realised that he wasn’t going to get out of there in the condition that he was in. Then he remembered that he had the map in his pocket. When Steve looked at realised that the border to Pakistan and the meeting point with the helicopter extraction point was around 3 miles. He thought about it for a couple of minutes and then decided to to risk his own life and crawl for 3 miles.
Steve rolled onto his front and started dragging his body and thought about the journey to come. He could hear the sounds of men shouting and then he heard gunfire in the distant. Steve felt every single movement that he made, as his pelvis had been dislocated and fractured. Also he had two through on through gunshot wounds in his left shoulder and right thigh. It took Steve 3 hours to cover 1.5 miles. When we rolled over onto his back to have a drink, he saw a barrel get pointed in his face from behind him. Then the person carrying the rifle started screaming in Arabic. As he rose his arms up in surrender, the young fighter saw his tactical patch of a Spartan Helmet with a trident. The young fighter looked angry and pushed the barrel closer to Steve’s head. Steve started praying in his head and then began thinking about his family back in the UK………