Redcoats: A Fictional Narrative

When Jeff returned, the army broke camp and started the long march to Springfield, Missouri. The sergeant was Millholland, who Jeff liked much more than Clardy. The next evening they camped 25 miles away from Springfield. When Jeff shot his gun to clean it, he got arrested and was taken before Clardy. As his punishment, he got all-night sentry duty. The battle was going to be at Wilson's Creek, Missouri. The north planed to attack the rebels at dawn and by surprise. They failed to surprise the rebels, lost hundreds of men and the battle. The day after the battle, Jeff had to report for ambulance duty. The field hospital was 2 large gray tents thrown together in a clump of trees. When Jeff was scanning the field of people, he saw lots of dangerously injured people, none of them looked happy

To no man does the earth mean so much as to the soldier. When he presses himself down upon her long and powerfully, when he buries his face and his limbs deep in her from the fear of death by shell-fire, then she is his only friend, his brother, his mother; he stifles his terror and his cries in her silence and her security; she shelters him and gives him a new lease of ten seconds of life, receives him again and often for ever.

My reaction to this short story was one of sadness and fear. My husband is a soldier in the U.S. Army, and this short story resonates very personally with me. I hear war stories all time; from my husband, from his friends, and from the other Army wives. O’Brien’s stories and experiences remind me of all the other sad and horrific stories that I have heard. But what is even sadder is that those not

The next morning, groggily, John and his new friend woke up to the triumphant yells of generals. The grass was damp from the night before for it had rained a thunderous rain. John’s general, General Hartford, was a stern looking man and didn’t like goofing off at all. Every time a soldier peeped a word while marching he would hit them with the end of his sword and tell them to stop talking. John marched alongside his new friend and didn’t say a word. After hours of marching they took a break and ate a small lunch of an apple and very watered-down soup. Once John started his bowl of soup a large boy walked over. He was about the age of twenty-three and had a messed up smile and didn’t talk clearly. He yelled, “Gimme your soup or I’ll beat you

In this book, Tim O’brien reveals all his experiences in detail about the war; as well as stories about his fellow soldiers, and makes a true, but over the top about them. He explains how he feels through stories that are difficult to clearly identify as “true.” This book has a lot of themes, death and violence is one of the major themes.

She feels Armin’s hand on her arm, tentative, and notices that the soldiers have disappeared. Just as she’s about to ask him, Armin beats her to it. “I told them to go up, said that it’d attract less attention.”

Instead her attackers were shrieking and blindly stabbing into the darkness, trying to attack the one attacking them. The woman dropped to her knees in terror, but Jessie never dropped her gaze. One by one the attackers fell to the cacophony of bones snapping, blood splattering against the stone walls, and howls of agony. The 'hero's' cloak swept around his body as he fought them, the edges of it stained in their blood, and in the distant moonlight Jessie could just make out his face - the deep blue eyes devoid of any light, warmth, or

"And what are you doing now? Telling him? Blackmailing me?" She may be his wives´ best friend but he still is Colonel John Graves Simcoe and his sense of justice is so strong, he could have studied law, she thinks.

Lightning tore across the inky expanse of sky, illuminating Rupert’s startled face. Rupert gazed up at black birds flying through the acidic rain, falling like fighter jets, wounded and squawking in the calm darkness of the night. The storm eased and the birds flew away unharmed. Drenched and bedraggled, Rupert shook his head and staggered along the cold sidewalk, his mind swirling like the receding water beneath him. At the intersection ahead, Rupert spotted the silhouette of an enemy soldier resting against a lamppost, a bayonet clasped in his hand. The old man bounded towards the figure and pinned the enemy soldier against the lamppost. Rupert locked eyes with the figure. To his shock, Rupert was gazing into the eyes of a teenage boy who now shook with fear under

The third chapter began to examine the contrasts between the American and British armies. The British Redcoats were very much prepared and experienced, not at all like the American army, and were being ordered by General William Howe, But dissimilar to in the American army were a solder could just climb in the positions taking into account their abilities on the war zone, British soldiers could pay to climb to higher ranks. A major misstep of the British army was that they disparaged the American soldiers so they thought it would be a simple win. Indeed, even their own particular general did not take the war as serious as he ought to have, investing more energy and time in relaxation exercises, for example, watching plays as opposed to conceiving

"Did you hear?" A loud voice booms across the market plaza "The first shorts were fired today at Fort Sumter in South Carolina. The war has begun." My stomach was in my throat. I didn't think this would happen again; at least not in my life. I rush home and see my father hugging my mother. "Dasiy... Honey, I must go and fight for the Union." My father walks towards me and pulls me into an embrace filled with love. He pulls away and I look into his eyes, it was the first time I was able to see our terror in them. He was scared.

I tried to cover my red softball uniform with a pink velour jacket. The red uniform was visible under the jacket. However, my teammates were not trying to cover their uniforms and the black numbers on their jerseys seemed to sparkle under the sun. I was wearing my jacket with jeans because I did not want my parents going to my softball games. I did not want them at the games as I was tired of being yelled at for every mistake. I walked up to my Dad’s green pickup, and got into the truck.

“My name,” she snapped sharply, ”is Loriel….as you well know.” She paused, then drew in a slow breath to try and calm herself. To everyone else in this room, fighting and injuring and being injured and killing and watching others be killed and capturing and being captured might be old-hat; to her, it wasn’t. Now that the adrenaline and euphoria of this situation was wearing off, the strain of the predicament she was in was starting to get to her.

A soldier savagely beats her up and commands her to open her mouth (Cooper 1). When the soldiers make her the mistress of the camp’s captain, she endures monstrous romance destruction with hopes that she could exploit the situation to an advantage. Fear struck many of the women or choked them with helpless anger as S. described. S. hardens against torment until death becomes natural scenes. There was only one rule she realized and upheld in the camp, and that was to survive no matter the

This instructive tale of vanity and filled with a lot of details. The main character is a girl named Karen. Once she was poor, and once the old lady gave the poor child badly sewn red shoes. The girl wore them and was quite pleased, but soon she was lucky and she got in the house to a rich woman who began to take care of her, to train and dress well. Old red shoes went to the trash, and one day Karen bought a pair of new lovely red shoes. These very shoes and will become a fatal subject in this story. The girl put them to the church, despite the ban, and from that very moment the red shoes seemed to have their own will, they fascinated Karen. The heroine admired the shoes, adored them, flattered the attention of those around her to her beautiful