Sam Willis

23 Gen 2010 - 00:02 | Sam Willis

Struggling to breathe in mouthfuls of air rank with choking gunsmoke, hundreds of men and boys crouched low on the gun decks of His Majesty's Ship Temeraire.

In that cramped space, where shouted orders competed with the screams of the injured, blood ran freely through a hull hewn from English oaks.

Already the sails high above were riddled with chain shot from the French warships, but it was there, on the crowded gundecks that a brutal slaughter was unfolding.

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