War-Personal Narrative

If I could go back to any time in the world, I would go back to France in October 1944 on the Western Front. World War Two has always interested me. Being able to see the revolutionary weapons would be incredible. I would also love to take part in such a historic and epic war. War is a horrible event that plays a major part in human development.

If there was anything more terrifying to a shy, introverted, teenage girl than the idea of being a in crowded room full of strangers, it would to be actually in one. Yet, there I was, surrounded by a numerous amount of impatient, jet-black cars that illuminated the dark streets, rows of musicians rehearsing their piece by playing a dissonance of sounds, and the expectant, motley crowd of people lining up on the sidewalk for the veteran’s parade.

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.

Today has been the most eventful day in all my life. I almost got my leg cut off, tried to kill myself, and became a war hero, in line to be promoted to Lieutenant. I cannot remember much from the first battle, in which I almost lost my foot, besides the blinding pain the came during it. I suspect the feeling will not leave me for the rest of my days. Pain so blinding I could not even manage a scream of pain. If was as if lightning had struck me and all the hornets in the world had decides that I was their worst enemy. The torture felt as if it had lasted for hours though only seconds after the attack I passed out and was dragged off of the battlefield. I woke up in the hospital tent, surrounded by bloody knives and surgery instruments, and looked outside to see what was to become my fate, a man hobbling along on one foot, being supported by tree branches alone.

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.

I sat in my room bored out of my mind. My last mission was a few days ago and since I’ve only flown once. I was getting the itch. I needed to fly. To kill. To do something other than sit here on my ass and deal with drunk French and American soldiers every night. Being the first woman to fly and the only woman soldier in this war, I had a hard enough time dealing with their horny, egotistical men comments. I don’t need them drunk too. I got up and walked to my brothers room.

Cornered, Terrified, and feeling the despair of the situation creeping in, I was numb. Staring at Drew and trying to grasp the situation, a flash of rage overpowers my anguish as I suddenly have a flashback of Drew welcoming me into the squad with open arms. The warmth of that time would be heaven compared to this agonizing heat and sand blasting into my face. Now though, here he is in my arms, with his pulse slowly fading. I get snapped out of it by gunshots followed by hoarse screams. We were being subdued, I had to think fast. My heart was racing out of my chest, wanting to escape this hell but my eyes scanned the situation. For a split second, everything seemed to be in slow motion and I sensed danger and instinctively ducked. Something grazed my hair, I look up to see a bullet zoom on by. With nowhere to run and location found out, I had to plant my feet and fight.

With no vision or plan to enter the civilian life and no idea what to do with my life, I still had severe scars of the year in Iraq. There wasn’t a priority or a drive, but however, I did have some responsibility I had a wife and three children. In a desperate move, I attempted to return to the State where I was born as I think about it this may have been some comfort zone. I would send my two new children back home to their state while I attempted to land a job. My first interview would be in Cincinnati as a Retail Manager in a large company. Confident that I had some stability, I couldn’t avoid the heavy drinking or my violent outbursts I would eventually succumb to leaving my wife and two children to find myself in this lost world, which later I regretted. My focus was to leave everything behind and start a new life this would

The year was 2007 and my brother Eric had just returned home from deployment to Iraq and the mood was ecstatic around the house. My dad was welling up with tears, finally being able to see his oldest child returning home from service. Mom was also very happy as well, repeatedly fondling over Eric as soon as he entered the house. Eric and I had always been close, even though there was a decent age gap between us of 15 years. We talked for hours about what his time was like in Iraq and in the military; he seemed open to talking about it even though he witnessed some fairly nightmarish experiences. Eventually I got the bright idea to challenge him to a wrestling match on the lawn even though he had 120 pounds on me. He tried to talk me out of

The Generation of the World War 2 era benefited from the hardships they had to face. Nothing like their childhood has been prevalent in the years to follow. From searching for food in the dirty 30s to killing for freedom on the beaches of Normandy, they had a lot of growing up to do very quick. The qualities that these people had was a strong work ethic, patriotism, and the determination to fulfill one's potential. Those traits in it of themselves changed America forever.

First, the cost of war is tremendous. America is so in debt, and instead of trying to pay it all off, they’re using it to buy weapons of mass destructions. As our national debt goes up, so do our problems. The money that is being spent on the transportations for the soldiers, the food/ shelter being paid for, the weapons, can all be used to pay for much more important things. The taxpayer’s money could be used to fund underprivileged families and schools. Schools could be using the money to fund the music and arts programs that could help the students express themselves. The money can also be used to help keep people off the streets, and even fix roads and buildings all over the country. We can make this country beautiful, but instead the

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,

Day one was possibly the most stressful day of the whole ordeal. From the start, I doubted myself. How was I, a 160lb unfit kid, supposed to carry 70lbs of kit and march 16 miles thru hills and forest? How was I going to finish complete all this and carry on to become what my country needed of me? And then I heard it “Push on! This was going to be your

The family we created within our platoon was being torn apart by our enemies. I fought hard, and relentlessly trying to keep the enemy back but still hoping to help save James, who was closest to me during our training and