Why I Want To Be A Veteran Essay

Our nation past was, well, not always perfect. Without some of our veterans, our country wouldn’t be as free as it is. Veterans continue to make our country a free country, which also makes it a better place to live in. Veterans stood up for our country; whether the ones forced to go during the draft, or the ones who voluntarily go. Whether the cause, they were always ready to go and fight for the people’s freedom. We really do see how great these people are, I mean, they risked their life for ours to be

     My grandfather, Larry, served in WWII. He enlisted and stationed at Camp Polk. He went through places like New Guinea and the Philippines during the war.

As I drove down 41st St. N in downtown Birmingham, I looked to the right side of the road and saw many people just standing or kids running around outside in front of building that looked like apartments. I thought to myself “why are they all outside? And what is this place?” I researched the demographics and the building complexes in that area and found that these were public housing. As I continued my research and what life was like there in those houses I decided that I would get some actual answers. I parked on the street and approached in a respectable manner an older man named Jimmy and asked him what it was like living in public housing. He answered “I am a retired army veteran and before going into combat I married my high school sweet heart, but we didn’t have enough money to buy a home so she lived with her parents until I came back and could start a family. When I came back the economy was not doing very good so we didn’t have enough money to buy a real house and decide we would need to move into public housing. It was all we could afford and it was a roof over our heads.” This was surprising because I had no idea how many people actually lived in public housing. Public housing isn’t as great as many may think it is, there is homelessness, non-educated children, and it is an unhealthy living environment.

    While I admire the work that many veterans have done, I don’t believe that I would be able to make the same sacrifices as they did. As a service to their country, they took it upon themselves to protect those unknown to them. They are a part of something greater than themselves in which they are essential to the outcome of the whole. All roles are of equal importance because without them all our rights would be unfound. There would be no freedom of speech or right to a fair trial. Our country would be without purpose if we

I have maybe four people (that I know of) that are veterans that I’m related to. All of my great grand fathers served. I have a friend that is a graduate from VMI(Virginia Military Institute).

Military veterans sacrifice many things to defend America. Sacrificing their families, jobs, friends, and sometimes even their lives, to protect our human rights is honorable. They venture away from all of the luxuries of home to ensure that America remains the same extraordinary country that it is.

The willingness to put one’s life on the line to defend the lives of others is not a quality that many possess. Military personnel make up a mere one percent of the population and protect an infinite number of freedoms average citizens utilize daily. Within the last few years veterans have been returning home in record numbers and are facing transition challenges such as homelessness, unemployment, mental illness related issues, and physical disabilities.

The temperature had risen to 95 degrees; in addition, to being extremely hot, sweat was now pouring from our beet red faces. We found our way to the oak tree where we sought out the shade and cool breeze it promised. The oak was sturdy and smelled of sweet, raw, earth. Each of us climbed the tree and claimed a branch of our own. It was a few moments later that my mother had approached the tree carrying lunch and bottles of cold water for all of us. As we sat in the tree eating our lunch and guzzling our water we talked amongst ourselves about school, movies and the thing to do in the neighborhood. We learned the neighbors had been the only children in the neighborhood for a long time and that one of their favorite things to do was to swim. The children explained that they had an in ground pool in their backyard. Once, they had let that secret out it was our mission to persuade our mother to allow us to go swimming. We devised a plan in the tree to have the neighbors asked on our behalf. We knew our mother couldn’t say no, if our new friends asked. The neighbors made their way down the tree and to our house while my siblings and I prayed in the

The moment that we walked into our home I lay on my comfy cot and cry for 2 hours.

I stared at Phoebe for a good five minutes thinking about her growing and losing innocence. I was in denial about a lot of things during our ride. As I was slowly drifting asleep, the cab had come to a sharp stop and I had opened my eyes rapidly. Before I knew it I was at home, a place I’d also call hell. I stepped out into the slippery and wet sidewalk and stared at the stereotypical, happy family home. I waited for Phoebe’s fragile body to get out of the taxi. I looked around the depressing area and noticed one thing, my hemorrhage-popping parents were home. What am I going to tell them? I thought. Phoebe gave me a look of desolation, not knowing what to say or

One moment; that’s all it takes. A single moment that leaves you breathless almost as if time has stopped in its tracks. These moments don’t come around all the time but when they do; it’s life-changing. Cold. Dark. Abandoned. It was a cool November night in Goldsboro, NC. The seasons still transitioning from the hot and humid summer to the brisk autumn weather. Leaves scattered on the street in bright reds, oranges, and yellows. The smell of whiskey filled the air. The only sound you could hear was the agonizing screaming coming from the little brick house at the end of the street. At the time I was barely one, a young child new to the world. With no choice I lay there in the corner of the room. Tears rolled down my face one by one like the single raindrops before a storm. The screaming became louder as my parents stormed closer to the mesh playpen. “You did it again! How could you do this? Not just to me but to your daughter too!” my mom shouted. Her voice cracked as she was barely able to speak. It was like someone had their hand covering her mouth allowing her only to speak when they released their hand for a brief moment. My mom's cold hands slipped under my arms as she picked me up from the playpen. Tears filled her dark brown eyes as the screaming ceased; suddenly then all at once. She tightened her grip around me as we watched him walk out the front door leaving only memories and broken promises behind. We waited days for the return of the man we thought

I heard a knock at the door. It was my best friend Greta! I was excited to see her, but something wasn't right. She looked absolutely terrified. I had wondered what had happened ,but before I could ask she said,"Heidi, I went home after dinner--my family Heidi!” She was crying hysterically. I replied, “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” She said,”It can’t wait till tomorrow!” She had finally told me what had happened her family was taken. I din’t know what to think. I told her that I might be able to help, however I don’t really know. I went to my bed. I couldn’t sleep almost whole night. Greta’s words thundered in my mind. I wanted to help her, but I din’t want to hurt my family. I knew that if I helped her that my family could get hurt. We could all get hurt.

I started crying instantly and I could not stop. I felt like my world came crashing down. Many people perished in our family. Levi’s dad, our grandfather, and many aunts and uncles. I kept thinking about Levi’s wife and his foster children and I cried more thinking about what would happen to them. Soon enough, my parents showed up outside and I cried with my family. The drive to the hospital felt like it took hours but the drive only

I never thought it would happened. My mother’s hands were trembling in mine. The beautiful face I looked at was covered with pain; tears like a broken pearl necklace, cascading down from her black eyes. Her eyes was deep as an ocean, that I couldn’t see anything in the bottom. Gazing to the her, my heart like being ripped into pieces until I could hardly breathe. She shrinked on the chair with her curls black hair spread on her shoulder, pity but beautiful, as a withered rose. Maybe it was just a dream; Maybe it wasn’t true; Maybe, and maybe. I ran through all the possibility in my head, tried to escaped from this reality. But none; none of it could released my fear. When I looked at the emergency room, my heart was beating faster and faster. Like a losing child whom afraid himself would never found the way home. Tears weren’t falling down from my face, but from my heart.

“Okay thanks.” I answered as she got in the car with my mother.” I walked back into the house went up stairs and just cried. I feel to the floor and cried. I didn 't know whether to cry or to fight it back, so I just cried. I felt like I was loosing my whole world just in the matter of a few minutes. I went to stand up but my body just fell to the floor. I knew I had to get the twins ready soon, but I couldn 't find it in myself to get up. I just sat there with my head in my hands sobbing, asking god why he would do this to me, wondering if grandma would die or not. By the time I got up off the floor it was 10:00. I had an hour to get the twins fed