Cra-Z
06-17-2004, 08:27 AM
Just a little fictional story I wrote for an English assignment, got a 95% on it because it was late...
Killed in the Trenches
I stood on the street, the shredded strands of my battered Levis fluttered in the wind tickling my bare skin beneath. I stood about a head below my older brother if I was remembering correctly, seeing that he had already left two months prior. I appeared as if I had forgotten my morning hygiene routine and proceeded directly from my sleeping quarters, although this was not the case because it was my everyday apparel. My faded blue collared shirt felt oddly small as I inched my way towards the intimidating military establishment.
It was a fairly large building, with 3 levels each with 4 parallel large windows in columns and rows that looked like they were freshly cleaned. The rhythmical pattern of the bricks was almost nauseating in its symmetry. Now positioned at the base of the structure I gazed up at the two door entrance as it stared back. I timidly placed one of my worn Eaton’s sneakers in front of the opposite and brought myself to stretch forth my hand and release the latch to open the door.
I stepped into the building which seemed considerably cooler then the muggy summer air outside, but it was possibly just the sweat beading out of my pour that exaggerated it. The entryway area was actually a smaller area consisting of one cubicle behind which an average sized male sat working away seemingly not taking note of my arrival.
“H... Hi...” I said.
“Recruit?” The man interrupted before I had even figured out what I was going to say.
“Y.. Yes sir.” I mumbled as I stumbled over my words.
I was immediately led into an office at the end of a short dark hallway off a side door. Those 12 paces felt like I had run a one hundred metre sprint due to my heart catapulting like boulders in a roman war. War, I was going to war, what was I supposed to think? I didn’t know so I didn’t.
I entered the room to see a much larger very intimidating man. He smoked a cigar that’s odour darted through the air lighted by the severed rays of sunlight that dared sneak through the blinds. The scent made my head spin like a top on Christmas morning. I stationed myself square in front of the tidy desk. It felt as though this man waited here all day long just to speak with me, but I was quickly brought back into reality when he woke me up with a blunt snarl:
“So, you’d like to join the army, boy?” His ear-splitting voice demanded.
“I think so... sir.” I squeezed out of my brain through my mouth.
“Why?” he dully postulated.
“I don’t know.” I muttered.
That was the extent of the conversation as I remember it. I was given a pile of papers to fill out which I quickly completed. I was then directed down another hall. I opened the door and stepped in to the main hall, only to be deafened by the rumble of a baffling amount of soldiers voices which was quickly silenced by the earthshaking command of a man who seemed to be at least somewhat in charge.
After plenty of teasing and three and a half months of intense training I stepped up into the cargo plane with my fellow comrades set for the battle grounds. The flight seemed to last only minutes but at the same time it felt like it had been days since I had slept in my warm bed. I was the one sitting in the corner pondering my fate while the other rowdies laughed, joked, and played cards. I was scared and on the way to uncertainty.
Upon exiting the plane I found myself in a fairly large clearing with a makeshift barracks, people moving every which way. I could smell fear, it was probably coming off me know that I think of it. Even with a platoon of brave young man I felt alone, alone and lost. I felt surrounded by souls whom all knew their purpose and where they were going, as if I stuck out like a green hat with an orange bill.
I am going to share this with you although it hurts to remember. We set out 3 days after my settling in, early in the morning towards the chief battle field. We had just waited and done a couple retrieval missions until that point, but for some reason my feat throbbed as we hiked the approximately five kilometre distance to the destination. I carried a fairly heavy firearm that I was of course familiar with by this point but still scared me.
I didn’t want to kill. Why would I want to kill? Thoughts sped past my cerebral so fast that I had to dive to catch them. It was just like a movie I used to watch from the security of my home and never even consider fearing. The gunshots sounded in the distance which intensified my fright. I didn’t know it but these were some of the last thoughts that I would ever have in my mortal body.
As soon as the havoc was in site we had to run in to replace the wounded and passed fighters. I ran in and dived into the trench. The dirt was cold. I cold smell pain. I could taste blood. I could feel fear. For a split second I blocked out the screams and yells and I could hear the wind calmly blowing by, over and around obstacles; I imagined home, my family, my girlfriend, and peace. It lasted but a jiffy and I got back to the task at hand, I leapt up to fire and was beaten by a bullet. One minuscule punctured my lungs and exited my back. In my remaining seconds conscious I muttered:
“Why me?”
Unknown Soldier
Killed in the Trenches
I stood on the street, the shredded strands of my battered Levis fluttered in the wind tickling my bare skin beneath. I stood about a head below my older brother if I was remembering correctly, seeing that he had already left two months prior. I appeared as if I had forgotten my morning hygiene routine and proceeded directly from my sleeping quarters, although this was not the case because it was my everyday apparel. My faded blue collared shirt felt oddly small as I inched my way towards the intimidating military establishment.
It was a fairly large building, with 3 levels each with 4 parallel large windows in columns and rows that looked like they were freshly cleaned. The rhythmical pattern of the bricks was almost nauseating in its symmetry. Now positioned at the base of the structure I gazed up at the two door entrance as it stared back. I timidly placed one of my worn Eaton’s sneakers in front of the opposite and brought myself to stretch forth my hand and release the latch to open the door.
I stepped into the building which seemed considerably cooler then the muggy summer air outside, but it was possibly just the sweat beading out of my pour that exaggerated it. The entryway area was actually a smaller area consisting of one cubicle behind which an average sized male sat working away seemingly not taking note of my arrival.
“H... Hi...” I said.
“Recruit?” The man interrupted before I had even figured out what I was going to say.
“Y.. Yes sir.” I mumbled as I stumbled over my words.
I was immediately led into an office at the end of a short dark hallway off a side door. Those 12 paces felt like I had run a one hundred metre sprint due to my heart catapulting like boulders in a roman war. War, I was going to war, what was I supposed to think? I didn’t know so I didn’t.
I entered the room to see a much larger very intimidating man. He smoked a cigar that’s odour darted through the air lighted by the severed rays of sunlight that dared sneak through the blinds. The scent made my head spin like a top on Christmas morning. I stationed myself square in front of the tidy desk. It felt as though this man waited here all day long just to speak with me, but I was quickly brought back into reality when he woke me up with a blunt snarl:
“So, you’d like to join the army, boy?” His ear-splitting voice demanded.
“I think so... sir.” I squeezed out of my brain through my mouth.
“Why?” he dully postulated.
“I don’t know.” I muttered.
That was the extent of the conversation as I remember it. I was given a pile of papers to fill out which I quickly completed. I was then directed down another hall. I opened the door and stepped in to the main hall, only to be deafened by the rumble of a baffling amount of soldiers voices which was quickly silenced by the earthshaking command of a man who seemed to be at least somewhat in charge.
After plenty of teasing and three and a half months of intense training I stepped up into the cargo plane with my fellow comrades set for the battle grounds. The flight seemed to last only minutes but at the same time it felt like it had been days since I had slept in my warm bed. I was the one sitting in the corner pondering my fate while the other rowdies laughed, joked, and played cards. I was scared and on the way to uncertainty.
Upon exiting the plane I found myself in a fairly large clearing with a makeshift barracks, people moving every which way. I could smell fear, it was probably coming off me know that I think of it. Even with a platoon of brave young man I felt alone, alone and lost. I felt surrounded by souls whom all knew their purpose and where they were going, as if I stuck out like a green hat with an orange bill.
I am going to share this with you although it hurts to remember. We set out 3 days after my settling in, early in the morning towards the chief battle field. We had just waited and done a couple retrieval missions until that point, but for some reason my feat throbbed as we hiked the approximately five kilometre distance to the destination. I carried a fairly heavy firearm that I was of course familiar with by this point but still scared me.
I didn’t want to kill. Why would I want to kill? Thoughts sped past my cerebral so fast that I had to dive to catch them. It was just like a movie I used to watch from the security of my home and never even consider fearing. The gunshots sounded in the distance which intensified my fright. I didn’t know it but these were some of the last thoughts that I would ever have in my mortal body.
As soon as the havoc was in site we had to run in to replace the wounded and passed fighters. I ran in and dived into the trench. The dirt was cold. I cold smell pain. I could taste blood. I could feel fear. For a split second I blocked out the screams and yells and I could hear the wind calmly blowing by, over and around obstacles; I imagined home, my family, my girlfriend, and peace. It lasted but a jiffy and I got back to the task at hand, I leapt up to fire and was beaten by a bullet. One minuscule punctured my lungs and exited my back. In my remaining seconds conscious I muttered:
“Why me?”
Unknown Soldier