Creative Writing: The Toughest Job In The Army

In “War Is Kind”, Stephen Crane satirically addresses the death notifications delivered to the family of the deceased soldier which undermine and romanticize the actual brutality of war and the deaths of countless soldiers.

Some of us were scared, some angry, a lot of emotions were swirling around. As the weeks progressed I finally see events unfold, talks of war and recovery. Even though I didn’t know what to do I wanted to help, maybe join the army, I thought but my mom was hesitant of that, and I was only 15; Donate, but I didn’t have a penny in my name unfortunately, and then out of nowhere someone told me to just live. Live for the falling men and women who lost their lives and don’t let the ones who took them away from us have the satisfaction that they could deter us, and so I

We picked up guns and bullets from the men that we killed. They were spread out and unprepared. We bolted down the street; most didn’t even see us coming. At one point our group of thirty soldiers encountered a few that had taken cover in a nearby neighborhood—not far from where I lived. We exchanged shots for a while before suddenly hearing the sound of rifles as their shots died out. We looked up to see from the windows above, people with hunting rifles, helping our cause. I looked up the street to see my mother and father, with a few windows unbarred, each had a rifle in their hands as well.

The American custom of rendering military funeral honors has progressed over time. The funeral honors protocol of today traces its roots to ancient foreign militaries and historical American military experiences. Formal burial of the military dead goes back to the ancient Greeks. The Greeks buried the warriors who fell at Marathon on the battlefield. Although we do not bury our fallen on the battlefield, we do honor them by performing funeral honors. Navy military funerals are conducted to recognize the proud American tradition of honorable service which Navy men and women have given to their country. Our Nation regards the memorializing of its military deceased as an honorable and sacred obligation. When you are called to serve on a funeral honors detail, you will continue to carry on this tradition. As a trusted member of a funeral honors team, your role is extremely important. You are what the deceased

The world was spinning, I’ve been hit, this was the end. Without a thought I pulled the trigger, I saw three of him, but I knew that If I could end it I would. I wanted to be remembered a hero who saved our race, died in the battlefield. As I fell back a smile crept into my face as I heard a loud grunt, I did it , I killed him. I was ready to hit the hard concrete floor as our troops came out of hiding, but I fell into something delicate.

Now, I had known that this soldier was going to die this day. As soon as I followed him, he was gone. This soldier’s name was John, John Fernandez. He was in

Losing a loved one is always a difficult and traumatic time that every person in his or her life has to go through. People go through many stages of grief and react to death differently. Some people tend to have flat a fleck, while others are seen whaling to miss that loved one. Many people feel an intense sadness or lost when someone close to them dies. This affects the way they react to others, extend of their physical and mental health in which is tested as well the length of healing to get over this devastating time. For this paper I will discuss the effects of Military Death and the families’ reaction to losing their loved ones.

Being a ‘War Hero’ isn’t always a title that is filled with honor. A loss is painful regardless of how it occurs, however, a loss where the chance to say goodbye is never given, is far worse. In an attempt to retaliate against Baghdad Iranian F.14 fighter planes were sent out, many lives were lost. Marjane attempts to give her grieving friend Pardisse her condolences for the loss of her father stating that, her father was a hero. Nevertheless, Marjane’s efforts failed as Paradisse reacted by saying, “I wish he were alive in jail than dead and a hero.” (86) The family of the deceased feels no honor, only sorrow.

From the looks of it, it was a task she could have done herself, even. He was still there for show only, her toy now that he’d fucked up for the last time and repented for everything that had come before. Or had, at least, tried to repent. She wanted him to stay these next few moments so he had. She wanted him to help her with a zipper she could do herself so he had. Maybe he’d always been her toy, and it had taken him this long to realise it.

He was standing on a stone walkway by the looks of it, he hadn’t paid much attention to the ground before. Now it was an image, and it was the most important one in the world to him. It was the final clear frame of his life. His shoes were neatly shined, his suit had been pressed that morning. Everything was perfect, right down to the American flag on his lapel. There was of course something wrong with this scene, however, it took the form of the three neat bullet holes in his chest.

“Arthur, six in the morning is not a good time to have a meltdown. I just crawled out of bed. Let me grab a coffee first, would you?”

A solemn procession began. Six chosen soldiers acted as pallbearers carrying the body of our hero, shoulder-high. The sight of the flag-draped casket with the blue field of white stars covering Shogun’s head was eerie. Contrary to tradition, we placed his beret, on the flag. The somber procession slowly made their way towards a waiting C-130. Beyond all doubt, it was the gloomiest event imaginable.

I keep healing, see I’m not always sad and angry sometimes I leave them laughing because I am a comedian. Am not amazing? I hold the Earth’s emotions I say words that move nations, sometimes I am silent but they can hear me, because the pandemonium in my heart says everything. Can’t you see I am a performer perfectly portraying

“He was a great father, master, even leader.” sniffled Mada Mada. The rain was dripping on top of the dark grey tombstone. The thunder was striking in every direction, but no one moved an inch.

Dark clouds thundered across the sky, closed wooden coffins lay in a straight line before a sea of mourners dressed in ebony. A white marble soldier, rifle on his shoulder, saluted the onlookers. Beneath him the epitaph to the fallen was intricately carved. Many marines stood rigid in their blue formals and white berets. Eyes downcast they saluted the statue as morose music rode the wind.