Personal Narrative: My First Vietnam War

We all heard the disquieting crunch, off in the far distance. For a few seconds, we remained still, sinking deeper into the mud, anticipating another sound to calm our nerves. Instead, a fraudulent silence followed. General Loft's reaction was delayed; his hand shot up immediately as he remembered his position. Hurriedly, he waved us down. For a second he starred hard into the dense green jungle, trying to pierce through it with his eyes. Ours were focused on his right hand, awaiting further instructions. His eyes widened, with fear and urgency he turned to face us. His mouth opened, but all we could hear was a neat and tidy screech, travelling through the sharp leaves. Blood exploded out of Loft's neck as the bullet made impact. His fall to

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.

Currently I am the acting Section Sergeant in Bravo Troop 1-73 Cav, 2nd BCT, 82nd ABN DIV. I began my career October 2009 and was stationed at Ft Richardson AK, with 3rd Battalion 509th Infantry. In my tenure there I served in positions spanning from the assistant gunner to squad leader, and also the Fire Direction Center (FDC) check and chief. While serving as a gunner/ team leader we deployed to Eastern Afghanistan in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. I was attached to Chosen Company 3-509 and in December 2011 we landed in Bagram, the following week I was slowly pushed out to Combat Outpost (COP) Herrera. COP Herrera was a small outpost located in the Jaji District, East Paktia, and the surrounding villages were known Taliban strongholds.

I ducked down so he could not see me. All I hear was the man running but he didn't make it. The man was dead, his back on the ground, his right leg under him and his one eye open the other with a star shaped hole.

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.

make her be quite. The dog has also managed to follow us the whole time she started to lick

Going into Country Manor I thought that many of the residents there would be happy and excited to see us and play games with and the staff would be helpful. While at Country Manor I mostly played games and delivered mail with residents. The first few times I went I played games like Jenga, dice, and crazy 8’s. I played with individual residents, groups of people, and with some of the kids from Kids Country. Many of the residents I played with really enjoyed the games and the social interaction with new people. One gentleman I played Crazy 8’s with was a Vietnam War veteran who enjoyed hunting. My dad is a veteran and my grandpa is a Vietnam War Veteran so we talked a lot about Vietnam. We also talked about hunting and fishing and shared many

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?"

I laid across a blanket with my good friend, Ashley, waiting for the clipboards to come around at camp. Carelessly, I toss my light up and down, quickly enough, the solid metal collides with her head, leaving a decent crescent-shaped cut. I breathe out, “This will do.” I think to myself.

I stood there, and a man in a gray jacket looked at me with a sadistic grin, and let the kid fall to the ground, with a hand sized wound in his chest. I lifted up my fists, but a portal opened up and the man in the gray jacket’s fist punched me to the wall, and my vision started to go blurry. Well, it was better than what my town could do, for sure. The people in my town were too busy stabbing my arm to kill me. But, I could swear I could hear the kid speak however. I thought I heard, “Wake up, Jack, it’s too late for me.”