Descriptive Essay About Sniper

“The thunder of the guns swells to a single heavy roar and then breaks up again into separate explosions. The dry bursts of the machine-guns rattle. Above us the air teems with invisible swift movement, with howls, pipings, and hisses.

"The Sniper" places a strong emphasis on the evils of war, and yet paints a vivid image of mankind's qualities and their society. Employing the technique of describing one particular sniper to symbolise a general subject, readers are able to gain a deep insight into the evils of war. In this story, the assembly of setting, contrasting characters and themes of fanaticism and division of loyalties are vital to conveying the horror of war. On the other hand, "The Sniper" also discusses the power of war, depicting it as the decider of life and death for men. Its force is further emphasised when neighbours are turned into enemies under war's influence.

     In this story the author shows how location plays a big part in how physically dangerous a war is. Gunshots heard throughout the city are a sign of how close the fighting between the “Republicans and Free Staters…” is to innocent citizens (this is most often the case in civil war). The sniper’s positioning “on a rooftop near

There are many ways of thinking of military snipers. They can be compared to predators in the wild, a skillful killing machine that kills out of necessity and has the respect of their companions. Snipers can also be thought of as prey. They are given a challenging task that requires skill to elude the enemy and often preys upon their mental toughness. In Boyden’s book Three Day Road the author uses many passages to compare the role of a sniper to the role of both predator and prey in the wilderness. These comparisons help the reader relate to the experiences of two indigenous boyhood friends, Elijah and Xavier as snipers in World War 1. Instead of shooting caribou back home in Canada as boys, they are now shooting German soldiers in the trenches

With his inevitable death looming just minutes, probably even seconds away, he figured he may as well make the most of the time he had left. If he was going to die, he was at least going to take some of these freaks down with him. He thrust his hands into the vat of goop between his legs, and the targeting arrays came to life. The guns had barely finished their

“I fired on 7 machines on the aerodrome, some of which had their engines running. One of them took off and I fired 15 rounds at him from close range 60 ft. up and he crashed. A second one taking off, I opened fire and fired 30 rounds at 150 yds, range, he crashed into a tree. Two more were then taking off together.I climbed and engaged one at [less than] 1,000' finishing my drum, and he crashed 300 yds. from the aerodrome. I changed drums and climbed E.A fourth H. [Hun or Hostile] A. [Aircraft] came after me and I fired one whole drum into him. He flew away and I then flew

I dive to the ground and grab the gun I fired earlier. I run for cover behind a filing cabinet but I take a shot to my leg. I crawl behind the cabinet and look around the corner. I see his feet walking and fire. He falls down, giving me my chance. I limp over feeling the pain fuel the fire inside of me pushing me forward. He raises his hand up to fire but I step on it with my boots.

aim, biding his time. Unfortunately the bothersome grey-haired soldier chose that moment to pass close by his hiding spot.

You step of to the holster. You shifting your weight back and forth in anticipation, you can’t wait! You holster is loaded and your hands are itching to hold the bow. Finally after what seems like hours

Soon enough, however, we seemed to become bored with our adventure and decided that our excitement for the day had ended, so we began our short journey back to my house. On the way back, we stopped briefly by the tree that supplied the three squirrels we killed previously. I then continued walking, but my friend had noticed a squirrel clinging to the trunk of the tree. I was on the opposite side of the tree from him, about forty feet away from my fellow gunslinger. As I turned around, I noticed I was in the direct line of his firing range. Before I had time to warn him of the unsafe situation, I saw the shots. Three consecutive discharges of his gun snapped the scene into slow motion. Fire and smoke billowed out of his gun after each bullet was released. The sound of the shots was deafened by my own fear, although I could hear the bullets whizzing inches from my head. As bullets pierced the air right next

He starts walking towards me, and unholsters his gun affixed with a suppressor, lifting it up and pointing it at me. Oh crap. My heart starts pounding. Then, I make a run for the door. Pifff. I feel the air escape my lungs as I hit the ground and my vision

I take a deep breath and hold it. I wrap my finger around the trigger and pull. A loud bang goes off and Zaroff falls to the ground. I didn’t miss. I killed a man. He’s dead. I can leave the island, as soon as I find a way to.

A rifle echoes, and another three shots are are repeated as the resonance echoes through the hills. I take my finger off the trigger and tuck the short barreled weapon to my chest.

It sounded more like a sonic boom than the sound of gunfire. My eardrums rang before I realized he’d pulled the trigger. I froze, perhaps due to the shock or the fact that I’d just been shot in abdomen. I stood there, in the dingy alley, surrounded by filth and before I could lift my arm to fire my weapon, another shot rang out and then everything went black.

The echoing crack of gunfire signaled the start of the day. Each one rippled across the landscape; skimming the pale switchgrass fields before echoing among the woods beyond. Some were alone, like a whip or an old truck backfiring. Others came in succession with one following the other three or four times until whatever was on the other end of the barrel had either escaped or was dead.