Personal Narrative Essay: The Vietnam War

This is the end, i’m sorry I have to leave you. You have grown so much since the first time I had seen you. I will miss you. At that moment, I realized that I won’t get to see America grow even more than it already has... Ok, before I give away anything else, let’s go to this morning, before all of this happened. It was Friday, April 14, 1865, 7:08am when my wife Mary came into my bedroom and made me the usual breakfast in bed. She got me 1 egg and a cup of coffee. After I got out of bed I went to my office and worked for a while.

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

It was a blistering day, but I was short on time so I unfortunately had to rush and work without thinking beforehand this is a poor choice as I would soon learn and I walked right into their arms. The date is June 3rd, 1963 and it was all a trap, but I guess that’s war for you nothing but destruction.

As I drove downtown to visit Carol and Lee, I looked for a back way back in which would mean that I wouldn’t be seen. I wandered around for a while, eventually finding their house situated a few hundred yards from a McDonald on Bragg Boulevard and saw an alleyway behind the restaurant. I went to McDonald, where I waited a while before exiting into the back alley to see if I was followed. When I was convinced that it was all clear, I leaped over the fence into Carol’s backyard and up to the door.

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.

It was the day before it all happened, everyone knew that people were coming to fight and take all the men, in the refugee to go fight against us, we didn’t know what to do with my father. Once my father came back home we were so sad because we didn’t want our dad to leave us, so we were planning to hide my father, Aunt Betsy was telling us kids to go in the room because, my parents had to talk. So me (Sally) and my little 5 year old brother. My little brother (Michael) all he talked about was being a warrior which I didn’t like because, we were going to be a in a war, but I didn't mind because I knew he was little and really didn’t know what he wanted to be.

“James, JAMES!” My mom screamed. I stared at my alarm clock, 8:15 I thought about it, And ran downstairs and hid in the stairwell under the basement. They've come for me again, my mom has hidden all the boys in my family for 10 years. Every year the interdimensional travel police come looking for boys on the summer solstice to recruit for the war of the multiverse.The war for the ownership of Earth 1. I am from the original earth. But we had to leave. Earth is known a battlefield of the war. One day I would like to see my home. My family believes the war is pointless, mostly because everybody just wants control over Earth 1. As I walked out of the crawlspace and see the soldiers and walk towards them, their armor is shining a black and frightening

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 was awoken with a thunderous bang that made the ground tremble and the house shake. Things were falling off shelves, crashing and shattering onto the floor. I dived under a table until the shaking stopped. Slowly and carefully, I peeked out the window and watched as the soldiers broke their way into each and every house, gathering up everyone who didn't go to the Commemoration Day Show. I ran for my hunting gun and considered my options, run or fight. I decided to run and strap my gun across my back but quickly realised I was surrounded. I formulated a plan as I rushed up the stairs to my brother's bedroom. As I reached his room, my front door was burst open and the soldiers' carefully entered my house. I locked the door behind me and for

When I first came into the Vietnam war, I wanted to be the medic that stayed back at the base camp. I would have been more comfortable patching up the wounds of other soldiers. I wouldn't have had to see the initial pain and ago ny on their faces, as they felt the bullets penetrate through their skin. Anything would have been better than being on the battlefield, where I can witness people I consider brothers die. Being the medic, I would have had the chance to save one of these men's lives. But instead, I must fight alongside them, trekking through the booby-trapped jungles in search of Vietcong.

Eighteen-year-old George Horton wakes up like every other day that school year to the iterative alarm clock going off at 6 a.m. He walks to the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror saying, "This is the last school. This is my last year then I'm free. Only two more months in this hell hole". He goes on to wash his dark Hershey-like skin, and heads to school. George is a senior at his third high school after being kicked out for fights, drugs, and just about anything that would label a student as a "bad apple". He enters his first block class half asleep from being up all night. Mr. Bruckmann acknowledges George as he raises his hand and asks "May I use the restroom?"

It was early when we woke up, the sun hadn’t completely risen and I was already starving. To our surprise, we found that the swamps had expanded and overflowed overnight. We camped at a site which we thought was a dry camping area, but when the sun came out we realised the whole forest floor had become one massive swamp. The stench of the swamp was so overwhelming that I suddenly didn’t feel so hungry anymore. Our balloon basket was gooey and dirty on the outside and on the inside patches of swamp water had seeped into the basket, soaking our sleeping gear and damaging our canned foods. We wrapped all of our spoiled belongings in the tarp and packed up our basket. We inflated the balloon and begun to rise.

An Airman with the 341st Logistics Readiness Squadron made use of his instincts and basic military training skills to rescue a motorist who was pinned underneath a vehicle after an incident April 22.

At last, the caravan is ready to leave. There were many chores I had to take care of over the last few days, luckily my parents helped me out. They have been on the silk road before, so now i'm off to take their place. My goods had to be loaded on the camels very early this morning. I cannot wait to go all the way to Rome, my husband was going to take me to do this but then he passed on and I haven't traveled since. My mother started to cry, while my father wiped his tear away, my mother kissed my daughter and I, it was time to set off. I told my parents I would stay safe and they gave me a final hug, I got on my camel and we started to move. I looked back and through the morning fog, I saw my parents waving I waved back and they were

Sweat trickled down my back and forehead. I felt a single droplet drip off the tip of my nose and splash onto the earthy mulch that had just been spread in the previous week. Stephanie summoned me over to see if my garden claw would be a better match, than the obviously weaker trowel she had been clouting into the ground. Waging war against the stubborn roots thriving in my front yard for ages, would not be an easy chore. We had agreed to help weed, but only in hopes of a cold, creamy reward promised by my lazy father. With a few quick steps, I positioned my body into what my naive 14 year-old logic had apprehended to be the most efficient stance for extracting this stiff shrub. Looking down at the exposed flesh of the half-beaten roots. I prepared myself for my own King Arthur moment, taking short but confident glances up and down my “Excalibur”, which in my fable was sadly only a rusty old gardening fork.