Creative Writing: My First Vietnam War

Swords crashed against shields like a field of doors slamming shut in the wind. Arrows whistled through the air; a murder of tiny crows swarming above us vulnerable soldiers. The grunts of men impaled by hafts and sliced open by steel join the cacophony of a battle raging into dusk. Wet warmness would splash across me in response to the dying cries of my comrades as one after another of those we battle would push our shields apart and break the line. The ground was wet and sloppy, dried earth had been turned to slush by a rain that did not fall from the sky. The ground was rendered difficult to manoeuvre through, encumbered by the lifeless figures of soldiers now without the allegiance that lead them to a face in the dirt.

The warm summer breeze was a nice change from yesterday's bitterly cold southerly wind. The sun was shining brightly and the lawn was shimmering green. Charlene was out on the veranda, watching her two babies frolicking around on the grass. Owen, dressed in an army green button-up shirt and knee-skimming shorts, was running around wreaking havoc on the ant nests by the oak tree.

Your commander’s gaze follows your finger to the colour and he hisses a curse. “Enemy troops,” he growls. “They’re trying to sneak behind and surround us.” And they are. You can see now that they’re slowly moving. By now the rest of your patrol has noticed the enemy as well, and uneasy whispers and murmurs form a low drone in the air. Fear chills you. You don’t want to die. Not here, not today.

Both local newspapers began to signal, albeit discretely, that war could be approaching its end. Reports spoke in guarded terms about German difficulties and in the ‘Letters to the Editor’ columns, there were encouraging words, leaving readers in no doubt that a resolution was close. Talk in shops and at church services built on the speculation. When news of the imminent German surrender reached soldiers in the front line it was greeted with silence. ‘We did not cheer,’ one soldier recalled. ‘We just stood, stunned and bewildered.’ He continued: ‘On the stroke of 11a.m. the CO raised his hand and told us that the war was over. Then we cheered, with our tin hats on and our rifles held aloft. For old hands like me, it was funny realising that the day we had waited so long for had come at

At some point, their ears had finally given in to the echoing shots and yells and had dulled to the point where they could barely hear anything at all. The students - cut, bruised and bloodied - lay upon the ground. Dead or hiding. Hoping for mercy, for that’s all they had left to hope for.

In May of 2007 I was a recently promoted Specialist with 20 months in the Army and 11 months in Iraq. I was assigned to B Company, 5th Battalion, 20th Infantry Regiment; a member of the 2nd Infantry Divisions 3rd Stryker Brigade Combat Team. As part of President George W. Bush’s “Surge” our 12 month deployment was extended to 15 months. We had spent the previous months moving around Iraq to support multiple areas of operation (AO), but in March of 2007 had moved to the volatile city of Baqubah, where we had begun the long and arduous task of clearing the city of insurgent forces.

We narrowly made it out of the airport. Hank almost got taken down because he got distracted. These infrasound weapons were devastating, but had a major drawback, one that almost cost my best friend his life.

On August 21, 2015, a suspected terrorist walked shirtless out of a bathroom on a train traveling to France. He was carrying an AK-47, a pistol, a box cutter, and lots of ammunition and he quickly began firing at the people on the train, wounding several. The incident soon had the look of a horrible mass shooting in which there would be dozens of casualties, but then, three American friends and a British man attacked the gunman. They tackled him to the ground but the gunman got out a knife and began slashing at the men, wounding one of them. However, the hero’s on the train choked him into unconsciousness. The total time elapsed was less than 90 seconds.

As I rose from bed, I could hear my wife starting to make breakfast. Today was going to be quite a day, mainly due to a fast coming winter and the need to harvest the squash and corn was increasing each day. I proceeded to change into my work attire and brown maroon felt hat I had bought myself last week. I walked out of my room and went into the main room where I had my breakfast every morning. I walked over to the table and sat in a hand carved chair made by the finest carpenter in Saybrook where my porridge awaited me. After sitting down at the table with my two sons and wife, I blessed our porridge and had my younger son read a Bible verse. Reading the Bible is a crucial part of being a Puritan since if one could not read the Bible they

All of my problems began and ended with a book and a statue. I was currently surrounded by dozens of giant carnivorous lizards. This explanation may be slightly confusing for you, so please allow me to tell my story.

A jagged pain arcs across my chest as I take in a breath. My legs grind up one after the other, barely moving but still pushing me forward. The runners ahead of me continue to press on, legs becoming a blur as they widen the gap. Eyes glancing up for a split-second, I find a primitive strength rising up within me, something that says No. You are not done yet. Throwing my arms higher and feeling my body ache even more, I set my gaze on a tree that lines the top of the hill, and I gradually increase the length of my strides, slowly but surely catching up with the group that was about to leave me behind. As we pound around the corner and begin to coast downhill, I release a small sigh of relief, despite my exhausted lungs. I may have won a battle, but the war continues, and we continue to

Something strange happens to me whenever I fly into Beirut airport, which I have done several times in the past twenty years. My heart beats faster and I get butterflies in my stomach. I begin to recall Lebanon’s history and the horrific events that took place. Lebanon, a country that has suffered from civil wars as well as invasional wars, continues to overcome and recover from all the past scars left behind. One particular war in which Beirut and several other cities were affected is the 1982 war with Israel, also known as Operation Peace for Galilee. This war has been of interest to me since I was young because my mother would not stop talking about it every now and then. She describes her startled feelings as a young girl experiencing a violent and disastrous war.

It was February 23, 1939 Austria a young adult was taken away from his home and his casual day to day life. The second world war. Was taking place. We were swarmed into the streets and being taken out. People in confusion as to why these German soldiers are constantly yelling at us

It was 5 am in the morning and I was flying over the Persian Gulf, I was exhausted from the 18 hour flight from Virginia. All I wanted to do was sleep, but the vast amount of emotions I had swirling around in my body kept me in a trance state. Scared because this was my first time in the Middle East and excited to finally see something new, it was a bittersweet moment for me. Finally we landed, Excited to feel my legs again, I rushed towards the front of the plane, only to feel like someone was holding a perpetual blow dryer and LED light to my face. And at that moment, I knew I had arrived in Qatar --- what has the military gotten me into?

Not a sound could be heard anywhere. Not in the stillness of the shadows, in any recess, not even a whisper disturbed the fresh, quiescent air, until, “Wakey! Wakey! My old shipmates! Rise and shine! Get your horrible torsos out of your loathsome bunks and get moving! We’ve got a war to fight and a good one it will be too!”