Answer:
each child scrambled through the frozen fields, combing the expanse of white in search of the gifts, their eyes lighting up like a fuse as the bombs were cradled like eggs. the soldiers, two steps behind scanning the empty areas fruitlessly. desperation rising with the lack of danger. children ran joyfully home, skipping and bouncing back to their houses still tightly latched on to their ticking presents, the little parachute limply trailing behind. the pure snow glittered as the sun peeked over a storm cloud, eager to watch in morbid curiosity at what was soon to come.
the soldiers trudged back, empty handed and heads hung low. the snow clung to their boots, yearning for the soldiers to make one last check, efforts in vein. the quiet countryside held its breath in anticipation as red nosed boys and girls, all wrapped up in the coats and boots they had acquired at Christmas, presented their new found gifts, the parents lack of awareness as they studied it in living rooms, kitchens, bedrooms and gardens. prodding and poking, ripping and tearing.
then, the first boom rang out, like church bells they began to go off in a symphony of destruction, the snow clad streets muffling the orchestra as each family home burst from the seams, popping the windows like buttons of a tightly fitted jacket. the firetrucks wails joined in with the music and the heavy steps of the soldiers behaved like the drums. the mightly houses which once stood strong had been obliterated, rubble and dirt lay where they had been. the once pure snow was smattered in crimson red- the colours associated with Christmas sticking out like a sore thumb on the eve before easter.
then the world fell silent again, in respect for the lost souls, in anguish for the brutality of it all and in simmering anger that anything so inhumane should ever have cursed this town.
no grammar done so sorry about that. is that long enough?