Sergeant Clark-Personal Narrative

It was a very nice day but was ruined by the noise and smoke polluting the ocean-blue sky. He grabbed his own rifle and waved to his group of soldiers. Overhead, planes and bombs swarmed the sky like demonic pigeons. They charged across the field, firing and reloading endlessly. Just when Daniel and his squad were firing from behind a mound of sand, a bomb dropped from a British plane landed squarely on the group.

On 13Aug16 at 1435 hrs. I, Deputy Halbasch, was requested to Trooper Dingman with a domestic that was reported to him in the city of Akeley.

In 2014 I had just started my senior year of high school. I was eighteen with great grades and captain of the colorguard. One would think that I was responsible with everything in my life. A huge responsibility that I took on was the privilege to drive. My license was freshly laminated, and I was ready to get out and experience one of the first steps of adulthood. Soon I realized that glancing down at my phone for just a split second could have changed everything.

I was in the Marine Corps serving under Third battalion Eleventh marines Mike Battery in Twenty-Nine Palms California from 2009-2013. What our unit did was put rounds down range, oorah. We were an artillery battery, think modern day cannons. As far as twenty-nine palms all you have to imagine is sand in a five hundred square foot mile area. My job as Ammo chief was to insure the safe handling and transportation of hundred pound high explosive bombs. On one partially long training exercise I was instructed to take my marines and four ‘7-ton’ trucks and go to the rear to load up with more ammo. No problem, I’ve done this before but on this occasion when I was going to return the battery would have moved positions. So they gave me the grid number

Corporal Walter Gordon was sitting up outside of his hole at the top of hill 303 the air was thick with soot and he could barely see twenty feet in front of him. Ringing filled his ears as shells exploded overhead, along with the screams of dying men. The enemy was on his front doorstep. While his comrades fell

Sgt Trombly is eager to serve and aggressive in the execution of his duties to accomplish the mission given the opportunity. He performs a broad range of assignments with minimal supervision. He is a Marine of high moral character and attentive to the needs of his fellow Marines. He is reflective, and can be relied upon to get day to day operations completed successfully and on time. Maintains a desire to achieve and learn while continually seeking improvements within himself. Continue to challenge and further develop for the rank of SSgt. Retain and promote with

As I stood in the gunner’s hatch completely focused with a firm grip on the 240B machine gun that was mounted on top of the Stryker I was assigned to. I listened to all the radio traffic that was being sent across the net hopeful and eager that maybe there was a chance we could recover the Soldier that had been taken captive. My heart was racing and the anticipation was high that night as it was pitch black and all you could see was the gun fight’s that were ensuing all throughout the Area of Operation (A.O.). As I scanned the surrounding area we were assigned that night to block off, all that kept running through my mind was we have to get this guy back.

Two of my men just got shot. I told everyone to crouch down. A mortar hit the back of the boat and the boat flew into the air and onto the shore. I just stayed under the boat for about twenty-five minutes, because I couldn’t move, I was in too much shock. All my men were everywhere, some were under the boat with me, some were in the water, and some were even lying on the battlefield. I told my men to be ready, on my mark we were all going to go out from under the boat and lay down fire for the oncoming ships that carried more men for our reinforcements.

Mike Clark started riding horses when he was a young boy. His father was working the fields with the tremendously powerful draft horses Mike would ride on their backs. Ever since then he had wanted his own horse for riding. It was an ordinary day in 3rd grade for Mike Clark. He had been in Mrs.Kruschels class learning away. The school day was completely normal everything just as it usually was learning all the subjects, but of course he was thinking about horses and how he would love his own. The end of the school day came fast. Next thing he knows he’s on the bus on his way home ready to make that exhausting one mile walk home, but to his surprise his mom was waiting for him when he got off the bus. He hopped in the old Chevy pickup, as he and his mom were headed home to their beautiful farm; the only thing on his mind was to get something to fill his stomach as soon as they got out of the old pickup he started to run for the house.

The war grounds are so treacherous, dead bodies are everywhere. We are still one of the three Central Powers. We’ve shot down many trade ships and submarines. Our new technology is very innovative. The poison gas is great but backfires when there are winds bringing back the gases to our trenches. These are extremely deadly and kills almost anyone instantaneously. It burns the respiratory systems of soldiers that don’t wear gas masks, which is a very common circumstance.

Although it may seem counter-intuitive, one of the proudest moments of my life was when I tried out for an officer position on my dance team and didn’t earn the title that will haunt me for the rest of my life: “Senior Lieutenant.” I fixed my world around that title, and it would determine the level of my leadership position on the team. The day after the results were announced should’ve been the most dreadful day of my life; having to get up and look in the mirror at the failure staring back at me, then having to drag myself to school and master the art of not being seen to avoid the shame. However, this day was something to the contrary. I knew I was internally devastated for letting the incredible opportunity slip through my fingers, but

I hear a BANG!!! and I’m up out of bed. It’s that sergeant firing blanks again, I think. I’m so used to routine that I’m firing at the Germans before I know it. I feel like I’ve shot this gun so many times my arm is numb instead of sore. I’m standing there and looking around, I see my fellow soldiers, mud, sandbags, and water. I throw a grenade at them. I wipe sweat from my forehead. The smell of rotting flesh is as worse as ever in this heat. I’m gonna hurl,I think.

I watch as the golden crescent of a sun rises over the foggy field, making the Lobsterbacks coats look more like blood than fabric. A sign in the distance says that we are in Concord, Massachusetts. I watch the opposing soldiers, they stand straight and still, attentive and alert. It reminds me of how Tim and I used to act when we played soldier. When we still had time to play. We would command each other to “straighten your spine” or “shoot like you mean it”, but back then it was all pretend. None of it mattered. Now it does. Now it’s for real.

After finally reaching the trees, that seemed like an eternity of an unpleasant jog, we dropped to the ground and lay watching. As the chopper finally left, silence became overwhelming, reminding us just how alone we are. Soon after the squad started moving again and we set up our RON nearby. The team leader called the C&C ship and gave our clear. After we were told that were on our own until morning. Everything seemed peaceful and pleasant, as we cleared an area for us. We all sat back listening and watching, knowing that we would only survive if we were alert.

The torrent was endless, the barbs holding me hostage, never allowing me to escape or gain any ground. My savior came when a soldier who had just climbed over the cliff found me. He cut me free, pulling me from my jagged prison. I collapsed onto the ground, my energy completely drained. The soldier kneeled next to me, pulling a canteen from his backpack. He touched the metal lid to my parched lips and told me to drink. I tried asking him who he was, but before I could manage a single word, a shot rang out, reverberating off of the emplacements, and the soldier fell to the ground with a soft thud. I drug myself over to him in agony and stared directly into his face. Laying right between his eyes was a bullet hole, a clean shot straight through his skull. I crumpled to the ground next to him, finally realizing who the unknown soldier was. He was my own brother, who had somehow made it to shore even after their assault craft took a direct hit to the ramp. He had given his life, just like the company commander, to save