My Hero-Personal Narrative

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They said it was just. All I could remember were the high pitched screams of the people we were “helping”, and the bitterness of losing Scott. Didn’t even know how they died. One minute he was there, then he was gone.
It started with a 411. I was a blue-head, people snickered and taunted me. I wasn’t strong, smart. I joined ‘cause mother needed treatment money for cancer. Father was dead. Car crash in the 70’s while I was the tender age of 8. A great man, father was, probably better than I am, better than I’ll ever be.
Scott protected me. At first, I didn’t know why. Then I realized he was my friend who was enrolled, taken away from me. Never believed I would see him again. Cried for days, then forgot. Pushed the feeling away, numbed myself. I needed support mother and I. Couldn’t mope about. Not to mention I didn’t want to think of him anymore. …show more content…

The 411 was boring, although my nerves were tingling, as this was my first mission. In spite of that, I had no choice but to “HANG ON TO EVERY WORD SOLDIER”. I could still remember the sharp barking of the lieutenant, and the sinking feeling I had as I heard that Scott and I were separated. Different squads, even different platoons. I was part of the three rifle squads in my platoon. Scott was in a different platoon, one that was part of the military police.
“Don’t worry Brad, it’ll be over before we know it,” he reassured me. Lasting words he said to me, those were. I’m sure it was over before he knew it. “Killed in action,” they told me. I knew he would be, he wasn’t an easy to take down guy. Troublesome to surprise, not like I’ve tried it before. One of the

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