Waving from side to side in the breeze, her long golden hair shimmered as she handed Thomas a bottle of beer. “When are you coming home to me?” She said eloquently.
We would send them all to hell! And hell they would go!
The Iraqi sun quickly heated the air to an unbearable one hundred twenty three degree’s, causing an unquenchable thirst to boil up in him. Thomas then dropped his rifle under his right arm, where it hung beneath his pit by a strap called a fast sli...
