Creative Writing: My First Vietnam War

I heard the lights flicker from the flashes and the camera’s shutter from the snapping of the photos as I came out of the locker room. My name was constantly shouted throughout the crowd, and the microphones from the reporters appeared closer and closer to my face.

“Resolved, that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states,” stated in the Independence resolution. For over more than one decade, people from all over the world have striven to see the nation come as one, and rather not see it drift apart from each other and hate one another. Patrick Henry’s speech has incensed violence and fights the British which not everything should be about war; one way to fix these issues of revolution is by having more peace and love among nations and states. Opposing to the speech, that violence is never the answer; however, Patrick states, “-we must fight, pg.1.”

The warm summer breeze was a nice change from yesterday's bitterly cold southerly wind. The sun was shining brightly and the lawn was shimmering green. Charlene was out on the veranda, watching her two babies frolicking around on the grass. Owen, dressed in an army green button-up shirt and knee-skimming shorts, was running around wreaking havoc on the ant nests by the oak tree.

Jimin wakes up to the sound of explosions and fire. A thousand and some men meet their demise each day, and Jimin prays at night he’s not one of them. The war rages around him, and he gets off the make-shift bed to get changed into his gear to help out. He caps the patterned helmet and looks at himself in the mirror. His reflection stares back, sad and weary, a youth gone wrong. He smears camouflage onto his face, high on his cheekbones until there is nothing left of him but an empty vessel of war.

“Could that be an air raid warning?” He whispers, recalling that in World War 2 they would sound sirens to warn of the German planes in the skies,

On August 21, 2015, a suspected terrorist walked shirtless out of a bathroom on a train traveling to France. He was carrying an AK-47, a pistol, a box cutter, and lots of ammunition and he quickly began firing at the people on the train, wounding several. The incident soon had the look of a horrible mass shooting in which there would be dozens of casualties, but then, three American friends and a British man attacked the gunman. They tackled him to the ground but the gunman got out a knife and began slashing at the men, wounding one of them. However, the hero’s on the train choked him into unconsciousness. The total time elapsed was less than 90 seconds.

I write to you today from a hospital bed in France. I know that may sound bad, but truly I am one of the lucky ones. I have lost so many friends in this past battle. I am sure you have probably heard news of this back home in England already. The first day of the battle on the Somme was a dark day indeed. I have heard it word here that it could have been one of the bloodiest battles to date. I do not even know how to begin describing the war, but I have to describe it to someone. I would never want to tell my parents of these horrors I am facing; it would be far too much for them to bear. You are my closest friend back home, and I know if it were not for your health issues, you would be here fighting too, so I feel I can tell you about all this. I know I volunteered for this, but I never in a million years could have predicted what war would truly be like. Looking back on it though, we are truly lucky that Britain is a country that relies on volunteer

“Trees towered upwards with bending boughs holding the weight of the freshly fallen snow. A blanket of snow hid away all traces of animal life although you could hear the krawing of a murder of crows. Their hidden presence was foreboding to all men who passed through the forest. It was a signal of another starved beast returning to the earth. Even the most frivolous found the endless winter to be a burden.

The sounds of the aircraft's flying past the camp woke up Alex and I. I was nervous about are training so I asked Alex if he was ready to shoot a gun. Sgt Miller yelled “Rise and Shine magots.” Everyone in the sleeping quarters woke up to the yelling. Sgt Miller wanted us to get dressed and meet him at the gun range. Alex and I got their last. Sgt Miller handed me and Alex a M1A1 Carbine, the gun weighed a ton. Sgt Miller told everyone to go to a target and get ready to shoot. Alex and I were getting in position to shoot. Sgt Miller yelled “Fire.” Alex hit the left arm of the paper target. I hit right in the middle of the head. Sgt Miller said to me “Kevin shoot again for me.” I shoot again and it hit right in the middle of the head again.

He sighed to himself they were currently at ‘his’ new unit’s armory drill floor. Friends and family gathered around intermingling with their solider as he bitterly watched. Some things never changed he had more than just resigned himself but couldn’t find a way to let go of the envy he felt. He was alone and no matter how much he strived for a lasting friendship or companionship it always ended the same way. He pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the nearest latrine laughter and tears following him as he walked by. As he pushed the first door thick, heavy, old door that led to corridor where the latrines were he felt a few pair of eyes following him. He briskly walked through the barley lit corridor trying to get away from the laughter, tears and the eyes. Finally he reached his destination and pushed the second thick, heavy door and stepping into the empty room. The door slammed loudly behind him disturbing the silence and the air in the room. He let go the breath he didn’t know he was holding and his

The tanks were approaching, I need to run. I flee as fast as I can towards the northern mountains,

Sweat trickled down my back and forehead. I felt a single droplet drip off the tip of my nose and splash onto the earthy mulch that had just been spread in the previous week. Stephanie summoned me over to see if my garden claw would be a better match, than the obviously weaker trowel she had been clouting into the ground. Waging war against the stubborn roots thriving in my front yard for ages, would not be an easy chore. We had agreed to help weed, but only in hopes of a cold, creamy reward promised by my lazy father. With a few quick steps, I positioned my body into what my naive 14 year-old logic had apprehended to be the most efficient stance for extracting this stiff shrub. Looking down at the exposed flesh of the half-beaten roots. I prepared myself for my own King Arthur moment, taking short but confident glances up and down my “Excalibur”, which in my fable was sadly only a rusty old gardening fork.

My heart skips a beat. All I can think of is Ben when he crumpled on the ground, his arm sliced by the soldier’s sword. I rush over, pushing Perta, and the others out of the way, my breath caught in my throat in relief to see that Melok’s fine. He sits up, his face red, but his breathing fine. He even takes Perta's hand and stands up to talk.

Christmas arrived during my first week home after my discharge from the army. I had been stateside six months, and when I woke up, I felt like I lost my marbles. I mean I wondered if I was an addict, an alcoholic, or insane.

From an environmental standpoint nuclear power plants are extremely clean when it comes to electrical power generation. However, there are a lot of ways where nuclear power plants can go wrong. Improperly functioning a nuclear power plant can create problematic situations. Take the Chernobyl disaster for instance, because of their poorly designed nuclear power plant it released tons of radioactivity which scattered across the atmosphere. This resulted in everyone leaving the city. Another recent incident was in Fukushima (Japan), a tsunami hit the nuclear power plants which caused the tins to break and release radioactivity as well. Still to this day there is radioactive dust scattered all over the ground. Moreover, mining and purifying uranium