Graduation Speech: The First Vietnam War

20th Century Interview On March 25th, 2017, I interviewed Charlotte “Putse” McCarroll who was born on June 3rd, 1935 in Cyrus, Minnesota. I asked her about her life and experiences during WWII. She doesn’t recall much about the actual War. She was a 4-year-old child during the start of the War and was in grade school when the War ended. She didn’t have any family members that she remembers actually being in the War. Putse told me that while the war was occurring she just stayed at home or went to school. She kind of remembers gathering around with her family and just praying for it to end. She said that life was very different because everyone was scared and no one knew what was going to happen. She thought to herself that anything could

Generally speaking, I think back about how it impacted my life and the life of my family. It impacted my life and the life of my family because of the fear, change, and new technology that occurred during the war. Also I hope that my family and I can adjust to the impacts of the war in the years to

I remember how everything happened so quickly in the months leading up to the war. It all started with the days of the draft in 1969. I sat and listened to all the dates being called out and finally, I heard my birthday. My heart sank, while I stood shocked and I just stopped thinking and moving. Life, however, didn’t stop with me and the time before being brought in for the first round of training came by like a rocket. There was hardly anytime to blink prior to the first day of training. Training was a very hard and rough experience, especially, due to the fact I was not a good runner. I can still faintly feel the in my arms from the numerous pushups and physical activities that we endured. Beyond the physical pain, came the mental and emotional strain of getting ready for a war. I was only 19 years old at the time and had not really had a chance to grow up. So I had to quickly learn how to be self-sufficient and learn how to take orders in order to survive. Following the six weeks of initial training, I quickly married my high school sweetheart Chris. Not long after came time to leave for the real war and head towards

The Great Depression was over, and a new era began. After trying twice to join the army, L.C. was drafted into the army in 1941, at the age of 21. We have seen numbers of the people who died, and we have seen statistics of the men in World War Two, but we never had to live in that terror of death and hurt. After fighting in Africa against the Germans, it was time to go to Italy. During the Invasion of Italy, he remembered seeing his friends get killed. Incoming shells broke the dirt loose on the beach and covered him up three feet below the surface. Friends eventually dug him and another man out of the sand. My father says that he never really talked about the war that much. I believe its because he was trying to move on instead of being stuck in that time of his life. As his son James said, “ He had every reason to dwell on the past, but he believed everyday was a good day since he

In today’s day in age many can not comprehend what happened during the war for the soldier overseas, as well as the civilian back home. For those that were home they did not know much about what was happening overseas. Families that did not have a man in the household that was of age (to be drafted) were not nearly as worried as the family that had a son/ or brother that was, but similar to the catastrophic event that took place on September 11th, 2001 every American felt what had happened on December 7th 1941 in Hawaii (Schwalbach). This lead to many men going out to war, but what was war like? War was hell. For those who had to fight in battle they had to do the impossible task of taking another life. In the example of an interview of

Michael D. Calhoun Professor Beulah Manuel English 101 04 October 2015 You’re In the Army Now! My father experienced something I never have, being drafted into the US Army at age 18. He is, as Tom Brokow (former NBC News Anchor) put it, a member of “the greatest generation.” I’ve often wondered what it would feel like to be a young man of draft age during a world crisis, sent to fight in countries overseas, and then witness the unbelievable horrors of war.

The day was 11/10/1918. I was heading home from the war, and I was more tired than I ever thought a man could be. It was the last few days of the war, and we knew that Germany couldn’t fight much longer so we took lots of troops back home.

It’s been exactly 28 years since the end of the war. I thought as I directed my vision towards the clock, as the long hand ticked every movement ending my thought. Getting up I grabbed my crane and followed the fading colored tiles until ‘oaf’. “God Dammit, who left the lamp here!” wrapping my long decaying fingers at its neck I fumed. Balancing myself as I rose footsteps were heard thumping along the wooden discolored flooring. “Grandpa!” a hand grabbed mine pulling me up revealing my granddaughter. “Arabella “, I calmly said as I was soon sitting on my favorite rocking chair. Her honey colored hair framed her heart shaped face as she focused her worried gray eyes into mine. “Grandpa, what happened? Are you okay?” Waving my hand to direction of the empty glass she seemed to understand and running water could be heard as she scolded me for attempting to get water. Twisting the faucet she continued her pressing questions, “I told you many times grandpa to rest and ask me if you needed anything”. Her eyes wide with disappointment she cupped my hand around the glass. “Honey, it seems you have forgotten what a strong young man I once was and look I’m alright just lousy misplaced objects getting in my way” pointing at the dusty lamp that stood tall in front of the granite counter tops covered with dirty dishes. She took a sit on the matching couch next to my chair, chuckling she spoke “Of course I know of your youth”, a look of reminiscing taking over her face. “How can I forget a story you tell me every year”. A sudden noise brought the conversation to a halt. “Arabella, honey is everything alright?” Rushing to her feet her phone laying in her hand her feet hurried to the door where the coat hanger stood holding a coat. “Grandpa, I’m sorry I have to go it seems there is an emergency at the hospital and I’m needed”, her lips trying to keep up the fast pace of the words spewing from her mouth. Shooing her off me rested my head on the backboard of the chair. A creaking noise echoed as the gusty wind blew the door shut and silence soon returned and filled its place. Grabbing the remote the black screen evaded as colors fused making out people sitting behind a desk each one dressed professionally and a voice

WORLD WAR I: Remembering the War to End All Wars (NOTE: Is going to have funny things inside.) Dear Journal, last entry. It’s late 1918. October, to be specific. The war is over, and I’m still living here, in Virginia. 116,000 Americans had died during the war, leaving behind 116,000 families to cry their lives away over their losses. We have lost over 4,000 people, due to reasons such as disease, combat, and military training accidents. But, like all wars, there will be many upsetting casualties. War never changes. Curse you, Hitler! What an oaf. I was starting to get sick of hearing about the war every time I wake up. This war had lasted for four years and three months before it was finally called off. I’m ten now, going on eleven in

It is the year 1918. It was a normal day in Kentucky and I was enjoying the day with my children. Suddenly, my cousin ran in with a newspaper saying they will start drafting people into the war which had started a long time ago which we called the Great War. Now we had been selling a lot of crops and vegetables that we had grown on our farm. We had a lot of profits from selling our crops. Since a lot of people in the war wanted them, we had to make them. We also earned a lot of money.

I stand looking at myself at the mirror, wondering will things get better? Now that the war is finally over, will father come home? We haven’t received any letters from him, ever since the war started. I take mother’s old scissors from when she used to cut my hair, and begin to contemplate. Then I have decided, and in a few snips my long, blond hair is gone. My hair is now up to my shoulders. I hear mother reading to my little brother, Maxwell, upstairs. She always reads him the same story, The Adventures of Pinocchio, which was given to her by my grandparents just like this old Oklahoma farmhouse. My mother always comforted me with that book, but now that I am nine she thinks I am old enough to fall asleep without her. Although, I still long for her and my father’s comfort, when they would hug me and kiss me to bed every night, before the war. I crawl back up into my bed with my red, long sleeve pajamas on, and faintly hear mother creaking down the hall. You can hear the floorboards creaking, they never got fixed to due to the war. She comes in my room and whispers, “Goodnight Marley, I love you.” She feels my hair, and I whisper back, “Night Mother, I love you.”

“What is it, Dad?” Emma asked. The room went silent as we surmised that Dad had been drafted. “I will hurry home the day the war ends,” Dad promised as he left the house the next morning. Our family believed that he would return to us, but it has been a month since the war ended, and he still has not arrived. Our next door neighbors, the

On the train ride home it was dead silent. It seemed as if no one knew where they were going to. I didn't really even think about what I would be doing after the war and where I would be going, till now. I think I will just be going back home to my mom and go see my brother wherever he is. I want to show her i'm a man and that I lived through the war.

As I approached them, conversation and laughter began. The time was moving fast, for 3 o’clock was almost here; the time scheduled for me to leave. I left them for a brief moment while I packed all my essentials. I then came back outside where my family was gathered. We took pictures and recalled a few funny stories. Right on time, my army recruiter arrived in a grey SUV, ready to take me away. Tears began to fall from everyone’s eyes. Looking back when I was first sworn into the United States Army, I felt like time flew. It seemed as if this day snuck up on me. I held back my overwhelming emotions, trying not to cry. I took a seat inside the grey SUV to leave the Chicago area and to get shipped off to my training site far away. Out the grey SUV windows I could see my family waving at me with sad looks on their faces. That was a day to remember. I was undoubtedly the only person in my entire family to join the United States Army. Even though I wasn’t the only one in the grey SUV, on the way to Missouri to train, and leaving family behind, I still felt alone. Why did I feel so alone? In the movies, there is always a happy ending; however, at that moment, I felt as though my happy ending would never come.

There were mothers hugging their boys, younger siblings giving the older siblings items to remember them, or to use as good luck charms, wives crying as their husbands boarded the train. I just stood behind watching, there was no one from Beckham that I could say good-bye to, the war office had decided that my father was to help the war office from Beckham Place, rather than at the front line. When I had seen enough, I headed back to Beckham Place. Although that day had been very dreadful, when I got back to Beckham Place, I made a decision that would change the next couple years.