Creative Writing: The Nightbreak Of War

Hi Mom! Hope you're doing well. I'm sorry that I haven't been writing to you in a while, things have just been pretty hectic here. None of us have been getting any sleep around here because we are all stuck in these trenches and are always on guard. Every morning, we'd get up and look around. We always have to stay in the trenches unless our "leader" yelled "Over the top", which means the call to attack.

(G) I guess you are right there General. I was planning to attack on Trenton at night when the British soldiers are sleeping. (C) That there George is a plan that you should proceed with. I shall be there not with you, but I will make it in time. (G) Thank you General. We need all the help we can get. Not only to win but my men need shoes and supplies. You think you could help me with those expenses? (C) That is not my problem George. Those are your men not mine so there is no need for my help in this situation. (G) I guess you are correct there again General. I will not ask you again I am sorry for asking again. (C) It is fine George no need to say sorry just go now and surprise the British. (G) *thinking* Why does he look so amused to see that I will surprise the British? Why all of a sudden is he encouraging me to do it? Does he have something planned? Why does he want the exact location of where I am going to attack? I will give him the wrong time and see if he shows up to help or to warn the

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.

Hello, this is Kelsey Maley reporting from a battlefield in France during spring of 1914. As you can most likely hear, the battle is booming behind us. The gunshots and cannon fires can be heard from miles away. From where I am standing one can also hear the cries and screams, and running horse hooves from the war below. Looking down we can see the khaki and grey uniforms either riding horses or hiding in trenches and with guns or swords. It is hard to concentrate on these men in uniforms because of the dirt and smoke covering the air around them. Walking up here is difficult because of the bumps in the ground. One may be able to feel the rumbling and shaking ground every time a cannon is fired. Each side is obeying the screams from their comandor

After abandoning the camp we stumbled across the country side and found a house. As we sit by the wall, we think about our fellow soldiers now in heaven. I look up to the sky to see shepherds delight or more like the resemblance of the blood of the abandoned. Why everyone was quiet, I don’t know. There probably just tired from the great determination. Many of us seeking an end but will be disappointed and become depressed. Trepidation of death has occurred in several of us.

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.

“Sure they do. But with this war, and the introduction of the bomb, the stakes were fought on an even grander scale. The Germans could have annihilated the English at Dunkirk if the skies were clear for the Luftwaffe. Think of how much more difficult it would have been had not the German Army froze to death by the Russian cold. Think of how the ebb-and-flow attacks from the Battle of the Bulge were influenced if the skies cleared. The advantage in that battle was all about the weather. The rough waters from the Normandy invasion forced the Allies into a one day delay but over ninety-percent of the tanks were never able to set forth in battle mostly because of the raging sea. And the possibility at Midway if Japan’s Carrier Hiryu wasn’t hidden inside a storm we could have had an extra carrier. While the American

He saddened every time he thought of his mother and couldn’t bear the consequences of leaving her behind. Luckily, Friederick was always there for him, comforting him along the way.

I write to you today from a hospital bed in France. I know that may sound bad, but truly I am one of the lucky ones. I have lost so many friends in this past battle. I am sure you have probably heard news of this back home in England already. The first day of the battle on the Somme was a dark day indeed. I have heard it word here that it could have been one of the bloodiest battles to date. I do not even know how to begin describing the war, but I have to describe it to someone. I would never want to tell my parents of these horrors I am facing; it would be far too much for them to bear. You are my closest friend back home, and I know if it were not for your health issues, you would be here fighting too, so I feel I can tell you about all this. I know I volunteered for this, but I never in a million years could have predicted what war would truly be like. Looking back on it though, we are truly lucky that Britain is a country that relies on volunteer

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

Russia was dreary and barren. It looked similar to America, the same yellow-grey hues that had been around for years. They approached a trench, his boots were coated in thick dark mud, making it hard to walk. The bags he carried on his shoulders were weighing him down. Consequently, this made him one of the last men in line. Suddenly, they found the muggy grimy trench, already there was a unit in the trench, they had been there two days before us. The men were cold, drenched and exhausted. Their eyes were soulless and their bodies looked disheveled. Two days and this is how they looked. Christopher’s unit climbed down into the rain filled trench, its murky waters seeping into their boots, fog stretched across the sky as they walked among the

Finger agitatedly on the trigger, Robert rolls his rosary from finger to finger. As the thunderous winds vertically hit the fixed wings of the helicopter the soldier’s unease escalates. Swiftly the aircraft approached the drop zone and the glimpse of the dense Vietnamese jungles became clearer to the soldier. The fear of death increases the flow of adrenaline in the soldier as he rappels down the rope alongside the two veteran comrades. Touching down, the damp earth swallows the soldier’s boots. The aroma of smoke smashes the oxygen in the air, heading from the jungle.

THE WAGON CREEPED AND CREAKED ALONG the silent and empty road, weather-beaten and riddled with neglect, its wheels clinging desperately on to what remained of the wooden framework. A poor hobbling nag led the cart along the westward path and like the burden in tow it had seen a great deal better days, and it showed: a frazzled mane hung limply from its sagging head, and sharp ribs poked out from its side, threatening to erupt from the confines of the paper-thin skin holding them back. Still too far off to see the face of the driver clearly, a young man, alert and wary, stayed put, resting on one knee behind a group of thick, prickly bushes. Squinting and blinking the sweat away, he remained as still as possible, shielded by the foliage, imperceptible

The world turned to into a battle zone, the death toll was around five billion. The war lasted for ten years.”She lays pictures on the table. They're yellowed and worn. Their depiction’s showing horrid things: women, children, and men hiding under debris, and the remnants of buildings, their eyes wide with fear. Colossal building reduced to rubble and ash. Deep trenches dividing the land, men with huge guns by their sides. Worst of all, the amount of dead bodies strewn over the imploding streets, like glitter thrown in the air. How could people do that, and feel justified? “The aftermath was disastrous.” She says, “ Cities that were once thriving, cultural centers, were now piles of glass, brick, cement, and crumbling ruins. The land that was

Despite the rivalry over military power between Fan Dou and Xia Jiang, Jingyan did not think Xia Jiang was in any hurry to kill Fan Dou. Xia Jiang was the type of man who'd rather see his fallen opponents suffer. Ever ambitious, Xia Jiang would definitely forget about smaller preys once he locked his eyes on a bigger game. The surest way: "Xia Jiang will leave Fan Dou alone for a while if Fan Dou incriminates Mei Changsu."