“Tis a success – total success” I thought. “My grade and my sanity had been saved once again by the intuition of myself and my adjutant, Major Whaley!” as I called him. It was a habit of mine, calling people a rank by their usefulness in an attempt to influence the environment around me. It was blatantly obvious that I’d been in my most jovial mood after the victory of the presentation wars of 13:00 hours. At least not before my presentation was challenged by numerous classmates I would call enemies.
On 13 September 2010, I was tasked with supervising a group on their preparations since my group had finished long ago. After changing my black polo shirt to a black dress shirt and pants, I’d forgotten to actually overlook my own presentation as I just wrote down a few essay’s beforehand, handed it in to them, and let them write it in the English room, which was a generous white room with a desk and seats so comfortable that one could peer out at the lightning storm and gaze at the beauty of nature, the occasionally impulsive gray clouds launching delayed strikes of vivid gold like artillery shells in an 18th-century battlefield.
“Paul” said a seemingly calm voice, known as General Sevilles’ (or Mr. Seville) who was addressing me in the art room. “Sir” I replied, taking no haste to come up with a complicated response. “Your presence is requested in the English room. They need someone to present the work, especially of your team.”
I raised one eyebrow in slight confusion as I took my legs off his chair, processing his statement with perplexity, as presentations were due 15 September, two lengthy days from our current time.
“Sir, aren’t the presentations due in two days?”
“Actually, they’re due in two per...
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...ier, but this works both ways as well.”
The environment around me remained blasé as well. As the bus picked me up and I entered, I let out no emotion that implied I was happy, but inside I could feel the proudness of my conversations that went inside my head, congratulating my own self for the excellent job. I sat down and produced my journal once more in the brilliant scene of intermittent gold strikes and gray clouds in the distance. “I have but few words to write about this major success.” I paused, thinking about the final sentence before my stop would arrive. “This battle marks the push on toward greater territory. I assume none of my enemies have made it as far as I had, and I hope that they would catch up. After all…” My stop was merely minutes away as the bus began to slow down. “It would only help to push my advances further– Onward, to victory!”
September 11, 2001 marked a tragic day in the history of the United States; a terrorist attack had left the country shaken. It did not take long to determine those who were behind the attack and a call for retribution swept through the nation. Citizens in a wave of patriotism signed up for military service and the United States found resounding international support for their efforts in the war on terror. Little opposition was raised at the removal of the Taliban regime and there was much support for bringing Osama Bin Laden and the leaders of al-Qaeda to justice. Approval abroad diminished approximately a year and a half later when Afghanistan became a stepping stone to the administration’s larger ambition, the invasion of Iraq. The administration would invent several stories and in some cases remain silent of the truth where would prove positive for the Iraqi invasion. It seems they were willing to say anything to promote the largely unpopular and unnecessary war they were resolved on engaging in.
Where Men Win Glory is an ironic euphemism for war. The title is ironic because there is nothing glorious about war or the way it ended Pat Tillman’s beautiful life. Jon Krakauer orchestrates this masterpiece with his diligently, articulated descriptions and with a timeline sewn together from the threads of two worlds. The author’s style can best be characterized by his challenging, precise diction and his ability to fluently intervene pertinent quotes and facts that further persuade the reader toward his cause. Throughout the book, the author’s tone harnesses resentment towards the militant hierarchy; for through its ingenuousness, deceit, and manipulation, the military uses Pat’s death as propaganda to bolster the war’s support. Furthermore, the military covers up the fact that Tillman was a victim of fratricide, and it deceives the nation into believing Tillman’s end was a valiant fight against insurgents. When the truth is exposed and pursued by Dannie - Pat’s mother - the army destroys evidence and pleads guilty to ignorance as a rebuttal. This book is molded by three prodigious aspects that help to illustrate Pat’s life story. The carelessness of war, importance of family, and enhancement through change were all important ingredients that created a virtuous life. Each theme, in addition, challenges me personally to reassess the facts I have been fed and the reality that I have been presented. By doing so, I can achieve a sound base of knowledge and an intellectual prowess capable of challenging all facts presented.
Throughout the ages, men and women have been at the heart of myths and legends, evolving into tragic heroes in large part due to the embellishment bestowed upon them over the ages. From Odysseus and Achilles to Brutus, Hamlet, and King Lear, epic poems have revolved around the tragic hero. Pat Tillman was a man of many aptitudes and virtues, never satisfied by the mediocre, striving for more adventure, more meaning, in his tragically short time on Earth, and personifying the phrase carpe diem. Even Pat Tillman had tragic flaws; his unwillingness to be typical, his undying loyalty to family and country, and his curiously concrete set of morals amalgamated to set in motion Tillman’s eventual death. These, whatever the outcome might have been, are not by any means, the archetypical tragic flaws. They are, as Jon Krakauer later described, “tragic virtues.” Where Men Win Glory is not solely a tribute to Pat Tillman. What makes it truly unique is its exhaustively comprehensive history preceding Tillman’s death, and equally essential, the events that transpired following his death, including the cover-ups, scandals, corruption, falsified documents, indignities, and lies that facilitated, also, in emphasizing the core themes, of which Tillman was the epitome. Tillman’s fidelity and devotion to the people whom he loved, the use of misinformation and cants surrounding his death, and others’ responses to what Tillman considered paramount in his life all played a key role in the tragedy of a man who won glory.
Glory. It is an honor that all men, even if they are not aware, strive for. The definition of “glory” is different for everyone. To one, “glory” might mean graduating medical school; to another, it could mean taking center stage in a play as the applause surrounds her. To Pat Tillman, glory was not defined as a multimillion dollar NFL contract or millions of adoring fans. It meant following his upright inner voice and fulfilling his civil obligations. In Where Men Win Glory by Jon Krakauer, Tillman rejects a successful football career to join the Army after being deeply disturbed by the September 11, 2011, terrorist attack. I never thought a book with so much war and politics could be so heart-wrenching. Although I did not like the political aspects of the book, I was moved by the story. John Krakauer’s writing style, however, made me have my ups and downs throughout the book. Regardless of the negative details, I love this book. I have never felt more connected to a book assigned as a school assignment.
As I walked toward a bus full of strangers, using my sunglasses to shield the tears forming in my eyes, I couldn’t help but to be apprehensive of what was to become of the next twenty-three days of my life. As I trudged up the stairs of the bus leaving behind all that was known, I couldn’t help but wonder; What have I gotten myself into?
According to the Indian Times, madness is the rule in warfare (Hebert). The madness causes a person to struggle with experiences while in the war. In “How to Tell a True War Story”, the madness of the war caused the soldiers to react to certain situations within the environment differently. Tim O’Brien’s goal with the story “How to Tell a True War Story” is to shed light on the madness the soldiers face while in the war. Tim O’Brien tells the true story of Rat experiences of the war changing his life.
“A trancelike state settles over your efforts; the climb becomes a clear-eyed dream. The lapses of conscience, the unpaid bills, the bungled opportunities, the dust under the couch, the inescapable prison of your genes—all of it is temporarily forgotten, crowded from your thoughts by an overpowering clarity of purpose and by the seriousness of the task at hand.”
The students could hardly sit still during penultimate period the day before the long Columbus Day Weekend. The school was gearing up for the annual pep rally held during the last period of the school day before the Columbus Day Weekend. Lots of Calvary Hill teachers would stick it to the students before long weekends and vacations by giving tests and quizzes, others would give up the instructional time and let the kids watch a movie. Peter didn’t test or let the kids waste time with movies, he structured the time with games of Jeopardy and other fun activities that kept the kids engaged and thinking about the content material, while still having fun. When the final bell rang, the students could hardly believe that the period had flown by. They gathered up their materials and headed for the door.
“I see you Mr. Adza, I see right through you. You think you can charm your way out of any situation with your big smile and smooth way with words, but you can’t just coast through life with this sort of arrogant, nonchalant attitude. One day its really gonna bite you in the ass,” said Mr. Jansen, as he towered over my desk. Most of the class had scurried out at the sound of the school bell. I was simply trying to explain to the man that my random outbursts in class actually did him a favor because it loosened my classmates up, freeing their mind for the learning process. In fact, Mr. Jansen and I were actually a team. We were the dream team! I was the comic relief and he was the scholar. We went hand in hand.
Dr. Laust’s Comments: This student's assignment was to write a personal narrative essay describing an event that dramatically affected her life. Her choice of narrating her rise in the ranks of JROTC is unique, interesting, and very appropriate for the assignment. She does a very nice job of using specific details to describe aspects of the experience as well as employing dialog to accent her account. The reader gets a clear sense of the impact this event had on her life.
...s; and then the gigantic niceness of the detail that pictures the mountains, pulled up by the tops, coming bottom side up toward them. In between we are forced to look away, to separate ourselves from the action, and see it as a spectator, not as a participator. In the grand finale of physical ridicule the rebels are again left exposed to laughter by the interrupted point of view. Never do they appear so ridiculous, not even as a timorous flock, as when they are caught isolated between the before and the behind.
We spent most of the first month in Mr. M.’s class just going over “the infamous page one” as he liked to call it and just reading some great pieces of literature, including Of Mice and Men and Julius Caesar. Then one winter day, we all came into his cool green room and sat down, chatting with our neighbors as usual until the bell rang to signify the start of class. When the bell rang, our teacher began talking about our upcoming assignments; he told us we would be writing 3 essays during the next ...
There we all stand waiting in expectation and just being. My thoughts are changing from one moment to the next. We may be standing in the classroom concentrating on the camera, but so much more is going on inside our heads. I know that we are all wondering exactly what the weather will be like outside. The stupid weather is like a child and can’t make up its mind to be good or bad. Secretly we all pray for the best and anticipating what the shouts from our section of the bleachers will sound like. Amber knows who’s going to be sitting in her section. The smart girl, Ann, thinks her family will be there and is excited to...
Soon it was time for my speech. I was introduced, and as I walked to the podium, I couldn't help but smile at the audience. I had a feeling of complete exhilaration flowing through my veins. When I finished, I received a standing ovation, and Mrs. Dole surprised me by giving me a great hug and thanking me for my comments on the importance of education. But even after she finished speaking, the excitement was far from over.
It was a maddening rush, that crisp fall morning, but we were finally ready to go. I was supposed to be at State College at 10:00 for the tour, and it was already eight. My parents hurriedly loaded their luggage into the van as I rushed around the house gathering last minute necessities. I dashed downstairs to my room and gathered my coat and my duffel bag, and glanced at my dresser making sure I was leaving nothing behind and all the rush seemed to disappear. I stood there as if in a trance just remembering all the stories behind the objects and clutter accumulated on it. I began to think back to all the good times I have had with my family and friends each moment represented by a different and somewhat odd object.