PLEASE GRADE AND MARK

Could someone please read this, this is a short story for English Controllled Assessment, its for my GCSE. Can you "grade and comment" if possible.

My men were
pinned down. We had been fighting for our lives for what seemed nearly all my life.
We had been abandoned overnight. Slowly the sun decided to rear its magnificent
rays of light. The night was over. Gradually the warm rays filtered softly through
the trees, Dawn revealed how ghastly the night had been, men lay around me
grasping for their final breaths, the forest floor lay crimson with blood and
we lay in a sea of empty bullet clips. There was an uneasy calm.

Suddenly there was a cracking sound from the radio; it was
our cowardly commanders, who had slept soundly last night even though they knew
of us fighting alone for our lives and our country. I had thought I was
dreaming when I heard “Captain, a medevac is on route.” These words astounded
me to the core of my fragile body. I threw the smoke grenade to mark the LZ for
our salvation to arrive at. The uneasy
calm was broken by the sounds of spluttering and tired blades stroking heavily
through the clouds that had covered the land for days. As gracefully as a swan, the helicopter
banked to the left and touched down on top of the smoke grenade. Once we had permission
to approach the helicopter I clasped the end of the stretcher and helped the
wounded on the helicopter; the blades started to rotate rapidly and we started
to lift off the ground gently. The land
dropped away leisurely and amongst the vast area of the trees, symmetrical rice
fields occasionally broke the horizon.

Looking around me, I saw many wounded men onboard, in the far
corner, there was a black marine whose rolling white eyes were full of shock
and fear, his body masked by blood seeping white bandages. On the floor of the
helicopter lay another Marine, he lay aimlessly staring at the lights from the
cockpit gauges. He glanced round and looked at me, his eyes as blue as the
lagoons of Thailand, his drip hanging from a cargo hook on the roof provided
saline to him draining the bottle drip by drip. The flight crew leader casually
sat on top of a body bag and broke out
his lunch amongst the suffering of the wounded men the smell of peanut butter
masked the smell of the blood in the cabin. Suddenly the blue-eyed marine
started to spasm and tremble. He was gone.
The crew leader just glanced down and continued to devour his peanut and
jelly sandwich for these events were a common sight to see in this godforsaken
war. The countryside reeled by just like in the movies I saw before with my
wife Niamh, just before I deployed.

Abruptly a barrage of bullets rained down on the helicopter, the
helicopter started to sway and sway, dodging bullets from all-around. When the
bullets start to rain, the ghosts start dancing on the hairs on your back of
your neck. Despite the sticky, clammy, muggy day, you still felt that similar
coldness, putrid and foul stench in your gut that you felt when a gun fired in
your presence. We had reached a safe zone, or so they said it was, we swiftly
landed and promptly carried the wounded and the dead off. The helicopter went
back into the gloom to rescue another stuck platoon, we were forsaken and the
jungle swallowed us up, surrounded by tall grasses and covered in blood and
mud. Our reflexes kicked in and we threw ourselves to the warm, moist, sticky ground
due to that despised sound, the sound of movement, the sweat from fear, streamed
from your forehead and meandered down your cheek and fell to the ground. We asked,
we knew, we feared that they are out their watching our every move, they could
see us but all we had been able to see was mud and grass. Time froze and the
tension cut the air like an iron curtain tumbling and slaying all below. I
anticipated for that one shot; the one shot that opened the gates to hell. The
men waited unbearably and their guts twisted in fear then… the anticipated shot
arrived and the world around us started to burn, fall apart and explode. We
blindly fired back not knowing where they were, we seemed to be surrounded and
helpless. We radioed for help but nobody heard us, nobody answered and nobody came.
We dashed for the tree line in hope to live, survive and see our love ones
again.

Some made it, others
did not. I got to the cover of the trees but the majority failed. As we fought
for our worthless lives, we once again found ourselves alone in the forest
approaching that dreaded dusk, raging against unseen enemies; many men did not
see the shooters that would slay them. Mortars bombarded our lines, the mortars
behaved like silver fish swimming about above our heads. They then nosed dived
and spiraled downwards towards us causing mud to pebble our helmets, radio
contact was eventually accomplished, an airstrike of F16s full of Napalm was
inbound, and so we waited, lingered and prayed. Precipitously the sky lit up with rich scarlet’s,
vibrant reds and vivacious oranges emitted by the blazing phosphorus that curled
and produced a dense, heavy smoke towards the sky and that uneasy silence
followed. The jungle was full of the pungent smell of fresh burning flesh.
There was stillness, peace and silence; we had won but once again, we deployed
the red smoke and were assembled on the helicopter ordered to deploy at another
zone to fight a battle in an everlasting war, the only way I contemplated that
I was going to get home was if I died in the line of duty. As the war was never
ending, I was bound to live in hell every day for the rest of my life. The
helicopter journey was shrouded by that uneasy calm and silence that was a
daily recurrence in “Nam”