Personal Narrative: My First World War

Meanwhile, a specific sergeant tried to make my life harder. This sergeant enjoyed agonism which “occurs among those who enjoy fighting for its own sake and who perceive trading insults as a type of game” (p.21). I constantly tried to filter out the words being filled in my head, but my internal dialogue had been so negative and judgmental for so long I really believed the bad things. I could not and did not understand that I was good person with many good characteristics. I was fighting 2 wars in a combat zone, one against terrorists in the desert and the other inside my head.

I am Ella Karcewski reporting to you on this gloomy Spring evening, hoping that this war may soon be over. I am currently experiencing a day that I will never forget. The images that I am seeing, and the heartbreaking pain that I am feeling will never be erased from my naive mind. I feel nearly speechless and am saddened for those drastically affected by this war. I am encountering a tragedy as soldiers and horses alike are collapsing to the ground, screams of pain coming from their courageous bodies. Pouring rain is drenching horses and soldiers, and darkness is curtained over the gloomy sky. Ominous clouds fill the atmosphere above, and it seems that the sun wouldn’t dare peek out on this bellicose April day in 1915. All of this French territory

My hands were covered in blood.. It was only a matter of time till they caught me.. I could hear the roaring of the wind. The heavy breathing coming from my own chest.. My stomach ached in pain. I could feel the tears beginning to escape from my eyes...

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you all, but I do hope you all are well. It has been a rough three months since I've joined the other nurses in aiding this war and needless to say I have settled in and adapted to the conditions. Since the beginning, nothing has changed within these 3 months, neither side had gotten much advantage of the war. It would be as if a back and forward tug of war between the two sides. Everyday I watch from the tent as hundreds of men rot away in the horrid conditions of the trenches. Many were brought in but many doesn't mean all. After barely being treated and having about a week of recovery soldiers were sent back to suffer in the battlefield. A few weeks ago a huge storm crossed the battlefield. The trenches

All is going very bad for us in the trenches. No one was really prepared for what this war has brought us. The war has many factors that are very terrible and for most, unbarable. I can not think of a time where I have been more scared.

12th March 1915: The day hadn’t started out differently to any other day. I had just been out to milk the cows and feed the calves. As I was walking back to the farmhouse for breakfast, I met Dad, who had come back from the markets. He stopped the truck beside me and wouldn’t look me straight in the eye. That was when I knew there was something wrong. He wordlessly passed a brown envelope out of the truck window. “GOVERNMENT OF NEW ZEALAND” was emblazoned in bold red print across the front. My heart lurched, constricting my throat. As I opened it, my worst fear was confirmed. In small lettering it announced, “Mr Michael Jones, we need you to protect our country.”

turning my head again I saw Simon dive to my aid. He did not utter a

It was mid-October and in the twenties, because it was October as was I am finishing my route. As I biked the town seemed so beautiful. I like this job because it helps me get away. I had woken up with Abelard screaming about friends lost in the war. Jacob had to come over help him. Jacob was a friend of the family and was also referred as an hyphenated American. The two had been bullied at the start of the Great War long before it came to America.

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.

survive them.Most of the time in a critical situation, the first thing that comes to mind is

I was assigned my first mission, I was transported to the German army I have waited for this moment; for my line of duty that I would be apart in. Everyone was in a complete panic; all over the news was constant reminders that Austria army has declared war against Serbia. I knew that it wasn't going to end well, then again, doesn't war never end well? Bloodshed, men dying. Bombs. It was going to be complete chaos. Chaos, chaos, chaos. The thing that never ends. Everyone always getting their underwear tied in knots; because of something someone didn't like; or got accused of, and is determined to prove that it wasn't them who did it and decided to point their finger and get another country of billions of people. Now, everyone in every once

Today we finally beat the British in battle, it was an amazing victory, although i must say, I really miss my long hair. Its a lot harder than I thought it would be to hide that I'm a girl, I cant go to the bathroom, and getting dressed is complete hell. I remember being called out of my deep slumber after Paul Rever saw the British coming. As we were all standing waiting for the British soldiers at around five a.m. I heard the shouting, “The lobster backs are down the road!” Led by Major John Pitcairn, the British troops approached Lexington. As we were lined up, preparing for battle, we were told to not fire unless we were fired upon. Our leader Captain Parker called for us to back down after seeing how many soldiers the British had and

Give me a topic. I can write for days about v-mail’s effect on World War II or the assassination of President Kennedy. However, this essay may be one of the hardest assignments I’ve ever had to write. If I say that who I am is defined by the project I did on the rights and responsibilities associated with archaeology, can I continue this essay describing factual research instead? I tried to Google how to write a “Who Am I” essay. Templates and suggestions popped up, but nothing like the idea I have in my head that I can’t quite form into words yet. Usually, I am quite good with words. I love to write and could spend most of my free time writing lyrics, short stories, and poetry - anything fictional. Although, I never seem to be able to write about myself. I write about fictional characters and the impossible, about plot twists and imagination, but if you ask me who I am, I wouldn’t know where to start, as you can probably tell by my now 176 words of rambling.

I live in the big capital of Germany, Berlin. I live with my mother Ilse, my father Frank, and my younger sister Susanne. We were a normal everyday religious Jewish family. It was a pretty big city, but that’s what made Berlin Berlin. They were not that many farms, but mostly tall buildings. You could never find a moment of silence outside with all the noisy people. I lived in a large bodacious house with servants, that was not how people Berlin lived typically. When I went to school, I would see people on the sides of the street stricken with poverty. All around, people were still happy and they were making the most of what they have. Their was talk that there would be a new leader who had it in for people like me, Jews. My life was normal

Now you all know I am general patton's assistant, David Hall. I know some of you would rather be in your cotts sound asleep than licensing to me and I appreciate all who are here now. I know many of you think that I don't know about war. Well guess what, I was once a private just like some of you. General Patton told me to tell you something about the Germans, they fight the war as bad as an old geezer would.