i close my eyes at the pop and i do n't see where i shot cuz there 's too much smoke already in the air and there 's spackle falling and men calling out on either side and angharrad screaming and pressing forward anyway and the spackle armour cracking and bursting under repeated fire and more arrows and white sticks and i 'm so terrified i ca n't even breathe and i 'm just firing my gun and firing my gun , not even seeing where the bullets are going- and the spackle keep coming , climbing over the bodies of soldiers , and their noises are wide open and so are the noises of every soldier and it 's like a thousand wars at once , not just the one i 'm seeing but ones happening over and over again in the noise of the men and the spackle round me till the air and the sky and my brain and my soul are filled with war and i 'm bleeding it outta my ears and spitting it outta my mouth and it 's like it 's the only thing i ever knew , the only thing i can ever remember , the only thing that 's ever gon na happen to me- and there 's a fizzing sound and a burning feeling in my arm and i instinctively lean away from it but i see a spackle with one of those white sticks pointed at me and i see the cloth from my uniform burning away in a foul-smelling steam and the skin under it feeling like it 's been slapped and i realize if i 'd been two centimetres over i 'd have probably just lost my arm and- bang !