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More handpicked essays just for you.
Emotional and psychological effects of war on soldiers
The effect of war on family and society
The effect of war on family and society
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I’m starting to miss you both and my family. I’m wishing i haven’t gone to war because my friends, who came with me to war, they all died by running on No Man's Land. My friends are gone forever at No Man’s Land. The war, I’m in, will never stop and will keep going until it’ll end. I wish everything at war has ended quickly and never came back. I will never join war ever again. I miss you all forever.
Everyday at night, the earth shakes when the bombs hit near us. We wake up to the Earth booming sometimes at the noise frightens some of the soldiers, everyday and everytime. The Earth will always shake and will always frighten us. Losing my friends in battle hearing them cry for help has saddened me forever. I would never forget them and I will always remember them forever. The enemies will keep booming near us but we can handle them until morning.
One day, We put blankets on all of the dead ones in the trenches. Rats came in eating the dead, it was sickening. Nobody wanted to watch the dead get eaten by rats. The rats got bigger by eating the bodies. Some of the dead bodies were buried but they still get eaten by the huge rats, everyone lost their friends or maybe some were eaten. That day was the worst of all, rats eating the dead and us letting the dead ones get eaten. I wish I didn't see any of it.
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There was a bunch of troops running at us, just like a storm. The enemies kept coming and killing some of the soldiers. I wanted to join the war so I can protect my friends and loved ones but now I’m afraid on what is happening now. I wish it ended already. I want to be saved and be alive. The enemies kept coming and I ran away from them. Only a couple of people died and the rest lived. They saw I ran and knew I was afraid about what is going to happen. We stayed hiding in the trenches afraid and we didn’t know what to do. It was night and they kept booming where we were at and fell asleep during
Bullets flying through the air right over me, my knees are shaking, and my feet are numb. I see familiar faces all around me dodging the explosives illuminating the air like lightning. Unfortunately, numerous familiar faces seem to disappear into the trenches. I try to run from the noise, but my mind keeps causing me to re-illustrate the painful memories left behind.
"Dear Mom and Dad: The war that has taken my life, and many thousands of others before me, is immoral, unlawful, and an atrocity," (letter of anonymous soldier qtd. In Fussell 653).
When telling a story details can be difficult to remember. Sometimes what happened can’t be pinpointed exactly. The lines between what is fact and fiction can easily become blurred. The short story “How to Tell a True War Story” tells of the difficulties of telling a true war story along with examples of true stories that are hard to believe. “In any war story, but especially a true one, it’s difficult to separate what happened from what seemed to happen.” ("How to Tell a True War Story.”).
I have just received your letter about considering joining the German army and fighting in this god awful war. From my tone already you should notice that I completely disagree with your thinking and am going to try my hardest to persuade you not to come out and fight.
SUMMARY OF CONTENTS: The subject matter of this book was a soldier’s personal experience in World War I. William’s involvement was from May 1915 to January 1920. The title of the book refers to a Holocaust, not that of Hitler, but of the aspirations of being a decorated was hero and glory for Germany to the horrors of poison gas, trench warfare, and war’s irreparable disruption of everyday life. He spent one year in the trenches of the Argonne Forest, two months in the sector of Verdun, and forty months in French captivity and then finally a full year rebuilding the destroyed area around Verdun after the war was over. He established many relationships, self-epiphanies, not so favorable treatment, and many other first hand occurrences throughout his servitude that provide a very vivid image of life as a soldier.
Every sense I was a little girl my grandfather would tell me about his experiences during WWII as, Elie Wiesel did in his essay “A God Who Remembers”.My grandfather would tell everyone his story his grandchildren,friends, family and our neighbors(even if they didn’t understand him). I remember one day my grandfather asked me to sit down with him, he wanted to tell me his story. Even though I 've listen to his story many of times, I had this feeling that I should stay and listen to him. While everyone else was downstairs and playing I sat with my grandfather and listened diligently. This was the last conversation I remember having with my grandfather before he wasn 't able to speak anymore, because of his sickness. He told me about how he had to hide, so that the Germans would not find him.
War is hell. War is misery, suffering, pain, and anguish. From the days of rocks and sticks to today’s high tech drones and aircraft carriers one thing above all others has remained the same; war is a terrifying, nightmarish endeavor. Unfortunately for those who fight for their nation, the battlefield does not remain in the far off land where the battle took place. In fact, those warriors bring back that battlefield, festering in the hearts and minds, sometimes long after their uniforms have been put in the closet to collect dust. It should come as no surprise that for a variety of reasons all stemming from combat experience, many of our nations Veterans will act in unconventional or perhaps even illegal ways, in an attempt to cope with the stress of their military service. It may be easy for some to say that these men and women, despite their service, are criminals and should be locked away like any other who breaks the law. However, if rehabilitation is truly a goal of our justice system it would not make any sense to take a group of offenders suffering from the side effects of combat experiences and throw them in prison, which is little better than combat anyway. This is why the advent of Veteran’s courts is so important. Due to their service, and the effects that PTSD and other service related conditions may have on their criminal behavior, Veteran’s courts are not only an honorable way to treat our nation’s defenders, but a way in which to protect them from the negative impact of incarceration. These courts, which are based off of drug and mental health courts, are designed to take less serious offenders, who offenses were related to their service connected conditions and keep them away from incarceration and into treatment (...
That afternoon, my mother and I were tending to the rice field along with other women and children from our village. The sun was beaming so brightly that it permeated through the interstices of my straw hat. “Kim Phuc, don’t stay out in the sun for too long,” my mother yelled from across the field, “your skin will get too dark and aged!” I wondered why she cared so much about my tan when the greater concern, clearly, was the war in our homeland. Although, her remark forced me to revise how poorly I was dressed for the weather. After examining my grey, cotton shorts and flowered tank top, I decided to go back to our hut and find a change of clothes. “Mom, I’m going back to the hut,” I yelled, “but I’ll be back!” Then I hurried out of the rice
My soldiers and I settle among our dead and wait. We had killed many of the enemy troops, but the mustard gas from the Zeppelin that burst into flames had done the most damage. This battle is over and we settle and wait for the next attack. Hopefully, this Great War will soon be over and we can return
Going to War The arrival of winter is well on its way. Colorful leaves had turned to brown and fallen from the branches of the trees. The sky opened to a new brightness with the disappearance of the leaves. As John drove down the country road, he was much more aware of all his surroundings.
"RUN!!" I heard a fellow soldier screaming as I looked around. "RUN!" I started to take off but I was too late. I am an American soldier and I just got my leg blown off by a grenade. As I lay here crying, yelling out in pain, I think about why I am even here. The president thought that Saddam Hussein MIGHT have had weapons of mass destruction (WMD), so he sent me here to die. After we searched and found that Hussein did not have any WMDs, what did President Bush decide to do? Send more troops (SIRS).
I really actually enjoyed this lesson, because it worked so well with what I'm learning in Old Testament. We learning about the fall and how the atonement plays a big part in in the fall or the "Great Transgression" and one of my peers had asked 'what about the atonement?' and I that's what I though as I went through the slideshow on Mesopotamia and the Epic of Gilgamash. As I went through the slides and read that civilians of Mesopotamia made sacrifices because o the fear of the gods, it made me said to hear that, so I agree with Matt, they were missing a key part of lifes truth; the atonement. In the recording it Brother Shisley brought Gilgamash's mistakes in squandering opportunities for immortality in not staying awake as requested, the
This war-torn land shows nothing but death and the dying. The ground is muddy from the rain, it’s dank and sodden. Up above the trench line is barbed wire and … nothing else. No birds, no animals … no people. A few dead bodies of the brave men going to assassinate the enemy by night fall, but stopped dead in their tracks, they got picked off by the sharpshooters. No! No one ever makes it! Never! There is a constant sound of gun blasts and the sound of explosions from the grenades. The dark is lit up by the flashes of the guns against the silver clouded sky. Nobody dares to look up for more than a few seconds otherwise they will be taken out.
I was with my family, I loved the city, I hated nobody. I was content. But when the war broke out I had no family left and I was left alone. I was found by my soon to be military leader and was given a sniper rifle.
I was lying in my own filth, being tied up for several days, without being able to go to the toilet; it's not a pretty sight. My body was slowly wasting away, no food, and only drops of water I couldn't cope. I could see my team-mates, my friends, slowly going insane. They were talking in there sleep, screaming for freedom, but what was the point. The guards treated us like filth, something they'd stepped on and couldn't get rid of. I could see their point though, we killed their friends, and so they determined to kill ours. But I had to escape, I was the only sane one in there, my mind was at ease. You see, everyone else was going crazy wondering about their loved ones, but I had no one.