The Trenches Descriptive Writing

The Trenches – WW1
I’m encapsulated in the unending nightmare of fear. The rain continues to bore on infinitely, pounding on the grubby ground and turning it into vast lakes of murky water. The miserable, grey clouds covered the sky, only letting a few rays of sun slip through. The monotonous sound of raindrops beating on the helmets of the soldiers thundered down like bullets. Everything was miserable, grey, and lacklustre. The thick layer of mud squelched beneath my feet as I struggled to walk. The repulsive odour of the trench overpowered my mind, causing the young recruits to spew endlessly on the floors of the thin, muck ridden trenches. The deafening explosions of mortar over No Man's Land pierce my ears and dirt spurts into my mouth as I choke in despair endlessly. Yet I could I still perceive the clamour of hundreds of men,
The few remaining stars flashed out of existence in the sky still hazy and swirled with a light spattering of clouds. The icy wind was torturous, creating a cold shiver to run down my spine. The rain fell in torrents from the sky, peeling the flesh of the powerless. At occasional intervals it was checked by violent gusts of wind which swept into the narrow trenches fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that glowed in the darkness. The deafening silence was broken by the abrupt blaring from soldiers. There was a pillar of scorching smoke and dust, which boiled up from where the bombs had gone off far underground. A series of new sparks broke out, lifting and scattering the incandescent radioactive gasses, and then a great gush of flame rose. The treacherous gas had awoken from its deep slumber of evil and ignited into a fiery ball of yellow flame, billowing outwards and filling the trenches with mustard. The noise had reverberated over the unending stretch of the trenches as quick as a thunder clap the malevolence of the gas started to drown me. I was trapped. All hope of survival had