Creative Writing : The Trip To Iraq

I heard the lights flicker from the flashes and the camera’s shutter from the snapping of the photos as I came out of the locker room. My name was constantly shouted throughout the crowd, and the microphones from the reporters appeared closer and closer to my face.

Jimin wakes up to the sound of explosions and fire. A thousand and some men meet their demise each day, and Jimin prays at night he’s not one of them. The war rages around him, and he gets off the make-shift bed to get changed into his gear to help out. He caps the patterned helmet and looks at himself in the mirror. His reflection stares back, sad and weary, a youth gone wrong. He smears camouflage onto his face, high on his cheekbones until there is nothing left of him but an empty vessel of war.

“Could that be an air raid warning?” He whispers, recalling that in World War 2 they would sound sirens to warn of the German planes in the skies,

My new, too-small boots make a loud thumping sound as I scuff through the enormous dirt landscape that seems to go on indefinitely. I can feel my belt tight around my waist heavy with bullets I pray that I don't have to use. The helmet I am wearing is strapped too tight under my chin, slightly pinching my neck. The open plains here remind me of a farm, once holding animals, now holding soldiers. After standing around awkwardly for a few minutes, watching everyone go about their training someone notices me and begins to come over to the ancient wire fence entangled with undergrowth that I have taken refuge near. The man struggles through the unruly crowd to reach me and immediately I notice that his uniform is different to mine, this man looks as if he is very high up in the ranks, perhaps a general. "'Ey son, how are ya?"

I close the door of the elevator behind my husband. Our eyes join, like they have so many times before, and we are motionless; pausing our lives, only for a second. I hadn’t expected him to go out for recruitment. Although I suppose I should have; he’s far too proud to let others fight for him. That is where we differ. I desire safety, and he would go to any length to prove to me that he will always keep me safe, even at the expense of his own safety. Almost like we’re the perfect match of opposites. In this moment of stillness, he looks so much smaller than I remember. Too small to go to war. I long to make him stay somehow. If only our eyes could speak when our mouths are speechless and taken by premature grief. I go to open the door again,

There was a Giraffe named Harambe and it had a little bit of gorilla in it but he did not know that yet so Harambe was living a normal life of a Giraffe just like all of them. So one-day Harambe was walking through the thick forest it was as green as money and harambe were looking for some good leaves to eat. he was not paying attention and wandered into gorilla territory and they went wild then this gorilla came out of nowhere and she looked familiar but she ran away Harambe decided to follow her when he caught up with her she was super shy and Harambe said: “You look familiar.” “Do I know you.” surprisingly she said “Yes.” I do not know where from but she knew me and out of nowhere she said: “I am your mother.” I was so shocked I ran all

When my friends or family ask me to tell them about the war I always share the same story. It was after midnight and we were at the ambush sit, outside My Khe. We were spread out in a dense bush. We worked in teams of two, and we would switch every two hours. In the last five hours nothing had happened, I finished my two hours and woke up Tim to switch off. It was hot and foggy, and all I wanted to do was sleep, but that was hard to do when you are at war. I had tossed and turned and had finally

I am writing you now to express my regret for thrashing out on you. I understand now that you were just trying to prepare us for the war. Experiencing the war has been something I will never forget. I thought that it would be something that I would never forget for a the good, but to my surprise it is the exact opposite. The things that I saw can never be unseen. I have stood by soldiers watching their life drain. Being in the war has changed me and I do not know if it is for the better. The war has aged me beyond my years and I did not know how to deal with it. This is why I started to act out. My regression was uncalled for and I did not mean it against you. This was my way of coping with the losses of my fellow soldiers and what I saw in

Four Union soldiers barged in. Each had their gun raised. The first soldier barked at Oscar. But he didn’t respond. Oscar just stood there with his hands raised above his head. He looked the first soldier dead in the eyes. I watched the first soldier squint his eyes into tiny slits. The other three soldiers were searching the bunker but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Oscar. I was so focused on Oscar that I didn’t see one of the soldiers coming toward the bookshelf. He grabbed me by the arm and threw me onto the ground, hard. I turned my body to look at Oscar. The first soldier raised his gun and spoke again, but I wasn’t listening to what he said.

Now to tell you about the rest of my time in Vietnam. First I was assigned into a new ship which is in Mekong Delta, which was on of the worst places there. We were attacked several times but most times we were fine, but the last attack was one of the worst days of my life Moses was shot and killed. It was devastated now all I want to do now is just go home.

Multitudes of people are coming to faith in Christ in Iraq! Even though they face persecution from all sides, it seems like the Christian faith is growing faster than ever. It seems to boggle unbeliever’s minds when they see this. They can’t seem to understand why people would die for this. They look at stories like the ones below and shake their heads. “What a shame!” they think. “One more person dead, because they wouldn’t reject their religion.” They don’t understand why we would be able to withstand this persecution. How could they? They do not put their faith in the source that they need to. They are blinded by their false sense of security! They do not understand the danger that they are nearing. That is why we must minister

“Get back to the car,” a random guy shouted. I ran back with my father to the car, seeing people burning from the car window. It was so hard to see because of the light. My feelings were messed up, I didn’t know what I felt, sadness, anger, dismay.  People they were getting out of Al Karada mall burning. I was in Baghdad, visiting my cousins. It’s hard to see people dying and you can’t help. As my dad was driving, I had a lot of questions in my mind. Who did that? And why did they do it? Why did they kill innocent people?

The toll of war on my unit was not something that I understood until I was well into redeployment. I remember vividly the redeployment ceremony and all of the new gold star families (families who have lost a soldier) that were standing on the bottom of the bleachers. The Brigade Commander began to honor those who have made the ultimate sacrifice and I broke down into tears. I watched how lost and torn apart those spouses, children, and parents were with their now incomplete family. Furthermore, they endured a grueling and at times hopeless twelve months of uncertainty and emotion, only to endure a total loss of love for the remainder of their lives. During the wounded warrior walk, after the ceremony I cheered on platoon, after platoon of amputees who were making their way through the streets of Fort Wainwright. Ultimately, everything was quickly put into perspective after these two events.

It flickers beside me unsteady and wavering in the frigid, night air. Its low, red glow radiates miniscule waves of heat that hardly help defend against the bitter frost creeping up on me. My eyes were scanning for another piece of firewood to steady the crimson flame. Quickly I find my nearly depleted stash covered in a thin sheet of fresh snow resting on top. I brush off the light layer and toss the last piece into the consuming light.

I rushed out of my bedroom to greet my mom, my dad and my brother Eric when I heard the garage door open. When they entered the house my mom was talking. There was a sad tone in her voice. I ran back to the hallway and listened.