Personal Narrative: My Second Life Of Gunny

Everyone knows that a soldier is someone that has made the ultimate sacrifice. By that I mean someone that has gave up being with family and friends to go and help the world. However, being a civilian may be difficult at times, it does not even compare. The responsibilities of a solders can be challenging, rewarding and yet demanding. As a United States Soldier, fighting for our country, both home and abroad, we are considered as a band of brothers, well some may even call it a family whom incorporate the antic of military first, family second and accountability fits into the category as top priority. Within the United States, the importance of keeping our patrons safe and free of any potential threats that can be a risk to safety is also near

“We’ll take you to see doctor Bleeden (Pronounced BLEEDING. WTF?) on Tuesday. He’s closed Monday for the holiday.”

On the early morning of April 19th, my husband left to gather with the militia. I being worried could not go back to sleep and awaited by the window from time to time. The children were still asleep and out of the corner of my eyes, I see at least a couple hundred of lobsterbacks. I was frightened and crouched making sure I wasn’t seen. Oh how my heart beated, and I am ashamed to remind myself that the militia fired. Perhaps out of fear, but they fired. Immediately there was movement until my eyes could see, running, shooting, bloodshed. As soon as I saw the Regulars marching, and the house being so near to all the commotion I ran to the children and hoped they wouldn’t burn the house down. I was prepared, nervous for the life of my husband

When I first went on the Mayor’s website and glanced at some of the internship opportunities I was extremely excited. I had just become a member of TISL and knew that the legislative research would be a perfect fit for me, but reality soon set in. I would not be applying for the internship and even if I wanted to I would not be in Nashville this summer to participate. At that point it was like a flip switched and I began to loos interest in the project. With that being said I knew my biggest obstacle would not just be the vagueness, but motivating myself in completing the work not just on time but giving it my full effort.

What game should I get, Daniel thought while in the gaming store. He stored enough money in his piggy bank to get the newest release of Black Ops or Guitar Hero Live. The only thing he did to choose the games was by his usual way of choosing, a coin toss.

Trying to open my door to my house to get inside while a mysterious white van approches up in front one that i have never seen around or could remember. The people in the van ask my uncle “aye where you from?” and he replies with “i am from nowhere i don't gang b..a..n..g”. My neighbor sees what is happening outside but is hiding behind his door just looking what happens next.Then comes out running and has a ak-47 on him lock and loaded ready to shoot. The next thing I know he starts to shoot at the van while my uncle and I duck for cover behind the wall. I was so scared and wanted to scream and let my emotions out but for some reason I couldn't and just saw all the bullets come out one by one.This felt like it could take hours and I also saw that he had another magazine in his sweater and thought to myself when will this end and how? I'm breathing so quick exhaling and inhaling thinking I could pass out any minute if I keep this up but quickly found out this is the only thing that is keeping me calm. The guys in the white van run out of bullets to shoot and took off making the loudest noise with the wheels burnin

I nick the edge of my cheek, causing that unmistakable burnt red substance cascades from my face in uniformed droplets, oh what a beautiful thing it is.

My dad, Warren “Smitty” Smith was entered to the United States Army straight after high school. Upon entry, my dad attended Big Ben community college in Fort Polk, Louisiana. He left college for his military obligation.

My role in the military has not had the advantages of going to school as often as I would have liked. My final push to complete my program was abruptly interrupted last year. I was notified on March 2014 that I would deploy to Afghanistan on May 2014 to support SOCOM for 12 months. This was a similar setback on top of others in the past.

Now this is getting to become a serious military war. Many of the transformers and army have been trying to scout out for any decepticons. I'm going to have to go with Bumblebee and Optimus and stay safe on this trip. We were just driving and out of nowhere a bunch of decepticons came and so it was a big fight against Autobots and decepticons. There was a lot of robots getting destroyed and trying there best to keep everyone they can safe. I had to stay cover and try to help but I mainly tried to stay safe. We have had a lot of decepticons shooting at us I don't know how long we can last. Were doing out best but it looks like Megatron is going to fight Optimus. I've been trying to keep calm and analyze what is going on and it's scary to know

In order to progress in this analysis, I decided to interview an individual who has remained next to me throughout my entire life; someone who ardently encouraged me through periods of excel and stagnation. There was, in reality, only one person who I strived to speak to: my mother. Before commencing this discussion, I anticipated numerous astounding facts about her; my mother rarely talked about her years in Vietnam - presumably due to the Vietnam War and its chaotic nature. Therefore, late Friday when twilight was approaching, I interviewed my mother and received some peculiar information, which disclosed fragments of her life. It became apparent that my mother strived to become a schoolteacher or an architect; however, due to the war, she could not continue

I gave Jessie a quick lecture on how to use his gun, I'm still concerned that he might shoot me with it, on accident. We were going to get gas for the stove for some proper food because we have been living off junk for the past week. We went down the stairs me leading with my Glock out in front and the others with their torches behind me. We decided to walk to save the fuel that we already had in case we had to make a quick exit. We walked 3 to 4 blocks without seeing a chaser at all, which is pretty surprising. As we approached the fire station there was a man about 20 metres away. I yelled, “Stop! Stop!“, but the man didn't seem to notice anything. As we approached, he started coming slowly towards us. I yelled, “Stop!”, again and again,

I spent 18 months deployed in the Arabian Gulf near the coast of Afghanistan on an

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a half-naked berserker race in on me wielding the biggest two-handed sword I’d ever seen. The Raider’s overhead strike was hard, causing an ach and stain in my arm. I held his board sword on my blade for a fraction of a second, then his broke. He stepped back surprised but with enough of a blade to fight. I realized he had strength but little finesse. I put him on the defensive, making him give up ground with a series of thrusts and slices. It was almost comical to hear him muttering angrily in deep tones of resentment about his sword’s maker. Finally, he lifted a defiant chin when I gutted him. I felt no pity for him but I found myself unable to cut him down.

On our twenty-four hours off, a critical mission came down from the command tent. The platoon received commands to escort rudiments from the Brigade engineering attachment into Charkh, bazaar to acquire grid coordinates for solar powered illumination polls, in order to provide better living conditions for the locals. Accompanying my squad for the perambulation today consisted of, the PSG*, 1SG, an interpreter along with three personnel from the engineering element. Egression from the COP elements of the patrol made a “V” line for the orchards, which present cover for our advancement. Route New York, the road that runs just to the front of our COP is notorious for attack during the daytime. Breaking brush and jumping walls along the way of our