Personal Narrative-The 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.

The meadow near the Western Front was nothing compared to the vast fields of the prairie back home. There, in what seems like another lifetime, was a harvest full of life, colour, and promise. Here, there was only death and harshness. Trevor, our Commander, had once described the scenery of these fields in France before the chaos. He had said it was filled with little red flowers and high green grass. After three years of fatalities and rain, the scene shifted to represent the misery. There was no colour here. Our uniforms that had once been a deep green were now covered with dried mud. The scene before me was bleak. The sky was gray; as it had been since the first day we made camp in these trenches. The ground was muddy with small pools of

It is about the middle of the day and we are on our way to somewhere right outside of Paris. The

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

“The English are fools!” Sprawled upon a sign hoisted above the German trenches. A hiss escaped behind me, ready to order gas masks I was surprised to find one of the senior commanders quietly laughing to himself. “ Is something funny sir?” I queried as he struggled to control himself. Regaining composure, he turned my shoulders to face the German trenches speaking to me quietly, “James, look out…. can’t you see the death and destruction? In this hopeless mess they try to provoke us with silly signs.” Leaving me with those words to ponder my senior officer disappeared further into the trench. Silly sign it may be, I ordered it shot down. Rifle shots made quick work of it, but not before one of the more junior members became over eager and exposed himself.

We all sleep and rest and eat in the trenches, but it’s not paradise. One night, the sound of loud booms woke us up. We were being attacked by some very dangerous artillery. We could feel every boom and every crack in the dirt above us. Many soldiers were not prepared for this and got sick. The attack come out of nowhere and frightened all of us.

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.

“Just another day at the office” my Sergeant said. It was June 3rd, 1944, we were preparing for one of the biggest missions of the century. We would be named the 101st Airborne Division and it would be one of the worst turning points in my life. We were training for over a year for this day. We had to act fast because it was right before D-Day.

I gradually slowed from a run to a walk before coming to a complete stop. I started to listen to my heart instead of my mind as it was corrupted by a fear so profound that it made my blood run cold every time the thought arrived in my head. I never should have left my platoon. It was a mistake. They had always been there for me even when I didn’t think I needed them, but now when they needed me I let them all down. I knew I was weak and that’s why I had run away but it wasn’t my fault that I was here. It wasn’t my decision but the government and its conscription policy. What did the government know about fighting in a war? Why don’t they allow any of their children fight instead of someone else’s? I turned around and started heading back deeper into the jungle that I had come from.

The great man tinkered with his little motor. He worked in an eerie silence. The echoes of metallic tools reverberated through the area. The workshop was very spacious, a large opened room with several cluttered work desk scattered about the area. Loose pages littered the tile floor, stretching from wall to wall; illustrated with the man's genius rantings.

It is now the end of the war and I feel that I have changed a lot over the course of these five years. At the beginning of the war I was a small, boy who loved to go to school and listen to Shad’s lessons. My top priority was learning and then helping my mother on the farm. (Hunt, 13) Once my brothers and Shad left for war my family was divided, with Bill on the Confederate side and everyone else on the Union side. (41) As the war goes on and Shad stops being my teacher I don’t like school as much as I did before. My father has a heart attack and I need to step up to help my family more. (91) The most important thing to me now is making sure my family is all right, school is enjoyable but not as important. Getting letters from my John, Eb,

We were just about to move when we got hit the shell ripped through the armor and blew up throwing shards of metal all over the inside of the tank. The metal shards smacked Dan’s face our tank suffered immense damage . The Panzer III had 40mm armor piercing rounds. A friendly M1-Abrams destroyed the panzer with two shells. It was a decoy it was remote controlled tank. Very expensive, then we got ambushed there were soldiers and trucks all around us. “Any ways that’s all I have for you guys today.”The base alarm sounded right after I said that, The F.O.B (forward operating base) commander said it was an air raid so Dan and I got onto the flak cannons and fired everywhere it was night so the explosions of the cannons lit up the sku. We hit a bomber coming down and it started a chain reaction it ended up in 3 planes crashing, “RUN!” I looked up and I saw a plane right there about 30 feet away from me. I dove out of the way but my arm got hit by debris it was one of the strobe lights. It shattered and broke my arm. I ran into our compound to get a medic. No one was in there and it was dead silent. Then I heard the most terrifying noise in my life, The Orange Mist. It was a wailing noise I ran to the basement which had a bunker that went deeper into the ground. And I found all the base members cooks,

12:30. Vinny heard a strange noise. It was loud. Then, we all heard scraping across the hardwood floors. Confused, we thought. I went to the door and looked out the window for a minute or two. One of my friends said, " what do you see," I said, "I see nothing." I went to my desk and got back to work. I heard the noises again, and again, I said, "be quiet, I hear something," to my friends because they were loud.