This Is The Moment Essay

The storm clouds were dark, gloomy and grim like a graveyard. They were near the surface of the earth. It was going to rain. They were lingering on. The soldiers’ uniforms were repeatedly buffeted by the howling gale. The sky was as black as a devil’s soul. A large boom echoed across the crimson battlefield as the lighting returned the thunder’s call. Endless calls for help could be heard. Then, the rain started pouring down, filling up the battle field, like a flood, as the constant sound of the rain pounding on the metal could be heard. Heavy boots pressed down on the wet mud, which would not be dry for the next week, due to the trenches. The trenches were six-foot-deep and reeked of dead bodies and human excrement.

The soldier hears a quiet whistle blowing in the distance but the sun hasn't risen. He hears people running and shouting “GOING OVER!”, before he knows it all the soldiers are all lining up against the wall of the trench and then he hears a voice shouting, but couldn't make it out what the voice was saying and then before he could even blink his eyes everyone suddenly started running over, all he can see is his friends getting mowed down like blades of grass by the enemy's machine guns. As he runs across, charring the enemy head on, he can't help but think that above the trench makes hell look like a picnic. As he gets to the enemy trench, silence falls across the war zone and then seconds later a gunshot breaks the silence, but the soldier is life less on the ground with the gun in his mouth. No one never knew what was in that trench to make him do what he did that day and no one

A 4 foot deep trench was dug into the ground miles wide. Swerving through trees and hills. The smell of worms filled my nose as the fresh earth lay behind the trench. Proper defences were created to give us a better chance at defending the German attack. At 10:00 a.m. the first German soldiers were spotted. I held my rifle at my shoulder and looked through the small cut out in the trench. Thousands of Germans were running through open fields. Red mist coming out of most. A deafening array of gunfire to my left and right. With the rifle’s sight up to my eye, German soldiers were put into picture, and with a squeeze of a trigger, and a loud scream, they would fall over. Flashes of light came from 300 meters away. German snipers were picking out targets from an almost unreachable distance. Helmets were flying off left and right. My friends dying in front of my eyes. A single bullet was forced through the barrel of a Gewehr 98 rifle. Traveling at 878 meters per second, an 8 millimeter cartridge hit my helmet. It continued through into my skull, shredding my brain. Feeling nothing, my body lay on the ground dead. Blood spilling from the side of my head out of the helmet. The rats came running. Dead meat attracted hundreds of them. Crawling in and out of bodies, getting free meals along the way. A funeral wasn’t held for myself and the other casualties until after the war. The Treaty of Versailles was signed 5 years

Topic Sentence: The Military Service Act was vital in maintaining contribution of soldiers to Britain, Canadians faced the harsh conditions of war and were forced to serve into war without a strong motive to fight.

The air is cluttered from the blasting of cannons, and it is hard to see with the darkness all around us. Piercing sounds of gunshots and pain come from all angles, making France seem like the perfect setting for a nightmare. The ground beneath me shakes like an earthquake every time a cannon is blasted, and it is difficult to keep my balance. The fear that I feel at this moment must only be a portion of what the soldiers are feeling on the battlefield. Smells of dirt and dust linger in the air, and I can’t breathe quite right. There is nothing but terror on this battlefield, and lives are being lost at every moment. I can hear the soldiers yelling at the top of their lungs, “Fire! Fire! Charge!” The British and German soldiers are both yelling commands from all angles, and even horses are understanding. I see horses leaping over barbed wire, dodging bullets, and doing everything they can to keep their soldiers on their backs. Everyone involved in this war, whether German or British, is courageous. German soldiers are dragging their wounded soldiers through the thick mud to try to save their lives. Horses are taking bullets for their soldiers. This is a bloody battle, and the pouring rain is only making this battle harder to

The trenches would smell like blood, gunpowder, and everything that was rotting in there. After the gunshots have stopped, and the air is filled with silence, the remaining soldiers drop onto the dirt ground, realizing they have survived another day. I always get this uneasy feeling, knowing that although I have survived another day, there is much worse to come. Even though I have survived, every shred of my sanity is gone. Before I go into another restless night, I think about my friends who have died for this war, and finally get the chance to mourn about them.

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

All bullets were counted, beds made, uniforms cleaned, this occurred until suddenly 03:45 arrived. “Men, the time is nearly here,” my words choked as self-hatred flooded my body, “What we do here today will be remembered for generations to come, we fight today not only for ourselves, but all who we know. All our mates and family who live back home!” A faint cheer followed my speech as I steadied myself for what was to come. “We charge in 5 minutes. We charge not only for our freedom but for the freedom of our country. For the freedom of the world!” Spit filled the air from the cheer which erupted from my unit this time. A unity formed over the men, a cold malevolent sweat captured me. Who was I to send these boys to their death? A resolve set inside me, I would fight alongside my men, their lives are worth the same as mine. 04:00 “THIS IS IT MEN! WE FIGHT FOR THE WORLD!” I screamed as I led the charge. Vaulting out of the trench I saw no man’s land clearly for the first time. Death was everywhere, flies swarming the pools of blood. The land so barren of life no greenery was seen. A cold resolution set over me, it was the Germans fault, they caused

I remember the smell, the sounds, the taste of blood. I remember seeing my comrades fall beside me, the sting of the cuts. The numbness as I fell alongside them, the sadness, the tears. The price of war, I believe my father said that to me before he died. I remember being lifted and carried, I remember a laugh. Then I felt my mind slowly becoming numb, and soon my mind was consumed by the darkness. Like a wildfire it spread from the farthest of places, destroying everything in its’ path. It was over, the war was lost, hope gone; at least until today….

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.

Shadowy clouds hover over No Man’s Land, they were all fed up with the war, the lives it had already claimed, the unburied dead and the smell, oh my god, the smell. Life in the trenches was unbearable, cold, muddy, vermin and parasites that consume your skin for food. Every man entombed in the trenches dreaded the day they would hear the whistle, the whistle to move forward into No Man’s Land.

Swords crashed against shields like a field of doors slamming shut in the wind. Arrows whistled through the air; a murder of tiny crows swarming above us vulnerable soldiers. The grunts of men impaled by hafts and sliced open by steel join the cacophony of a battle raging into dusk. Wet warmness would splash across me in response to the dying cries of my comrades as one after another of those we battle would push our shields apart and break the line. The ground was wet and sloppy, dried earth had been turned to slush by a rain that did not fall from the sky. The ground was rendered difficult to manoeuvre through, encumbered by the lifeless figures of soldiers now without the allegiance that lead them to a face in the dirt.

Bullets whizzed over their heads, spat out from the german machine gun.James sat crouched with his back pressed against the sludgy wall of the trench.The clouds covered the sky like a dark blanket, not a single sunray to be seen.James forcefully ripped a grenade off the coughing corpse next to him, he pitied the poor soul choking on gas, noticing the crimson puddle his head was surrounded by. He cocked the hammer of his revolver, took aim and abolished his misery He threw explosive holding on to the ring. A few moments passed and silence filled the air.

It was Friedrich Nietzschehas who said, “What doesn’t kill you makes, you stronger”. I like to call these moments in a person’s life, “defining moments”. Additionally, I like most people, have had a few of these “defining moments”; probably more than one person should. Growing up, I had a hard time accepting one of my “won’t kill you-make you stronger” moments. It was a moment of betrayal and deceit, inflicted upon by a person I trusted fully and completely, with my life. My mother.

Many people influenced and events my reading and writing development throughout my childhood from my mother, my elementary librarian, and Sesame Street, to getting my first pair of glasses. We all have defining moments in our lives where we can look back and say, “That moment changed my life.” This is the story of the defining moment that changed the way I read and write, and I learned it from a whale!