(-- removed HTML --) Today when I woke, I was expecting my son to be asleep. That wasn't the case. Today was his first race. Now here we were, at the track, race about to start, everyone was lined up ready to run. *bang* The starting gun went off. Like a bolt of lightning, everything came flashing back to me. There I was, back in Somalia, picking vegetables *bang loud as a Tu-95 Bear fighter jet* I quickly drop down, scared, ears ringing like a bell. I feel something wizz past me, my hair flying back, my body tenses up. “WHAT WAS THAT!!!” I yell. *silence* I turn around to see my wife on the ground. I run over to her. “Honey…” I say *no reply* I roll her over only to find that she is now lifeless, body limp. I …show more content…
I tense up, I throw my hands up, screaming for Waaq. *footsteps* I hear footsteps all around me, I start trembling and crying. “Please don’t hurt me.” I plead with the people. (-- removed HTML --) *soldier 1 speaks* “civilian don’t fire” he commands at the two other soldiers. *soldier two speaks* “Sir are you wounded??” He asks me. “I… I don’t think so,” I reply. *communication line* “Uhh Sgt. Rockoff, there is a group of non-friendly's 12 o'clock about 3 klicks out, over.” *soldier 1 speaks* “Pvt. Shields check on that.” *soldier 2 speaks* “Sir yes sir.” *10 suppressed gunshots* “Sir, all targets have been neutralized.” *soldier 1 speaks* “Sir, you need to come with us.” I don’t question it, …show more content…
20 other people from my village are in it. Amiin asks me where my wife Nadifa is, I don't reply, I just look down in silence. People are crying around me, even our village elder. Nadifa was the biggest help in the village if someone doesn't have crops to eat, she would help them by giving them money to buy more. As I sit down it all comes to me in a bright flash, as bright as a bolt of lightning, she is gone, my light, my soul. It is all gone. We start moving, while we are moving people continue to cry, me I just sit there, not knowing what to do. All of a sudden, the village elder speaks to us. “Even though we are being taken away, we can hope that we are being taken to a better place,” Mahad said. We all sat there in silence, since the village elder rarely ever talked. *3 and ½ hours pass* The vehicle comes to a stop, the soldier named Sgt. Rockoff walks to the back of the vehicle and says “Alright everybody out, you're here until you can get back on your feet.” We all get out, I see tents for miles and miles. I am escorted by a new soldier to my tent. As I get into my tent I hear a person behind me. *strange voice speaks* “I knew we would be reunited.” I turn around to see my mother. “I never
Master Sergeant Gary Gordon and Sergeant First Class Randy Shughart were both providing sniper support from another Black Hawk when they witnessed the second Black Hawk crash. Knowing that the crew of the second Black Hawk wouldn’t get any support for a long time, they requested to be deployed near the crash site to form a perimeter. There was a crowd of around a thousand angry Somalians and militia approaching the crash site. They knew the risk, but still requested to be deployed. They were deployed from the Black Hawk and made their way to the second crash site. Once they got there, they moved the only surviving crew member, Mike Durant, out of the crashed Black Hawk and into a small, half destroyed stone hut to protect them from behind. Both MS Gordon and SFC Shughart valiantly defended the crash site, but were eventually killed by the surrounding mob of a thousand armed people. Since Mike Durant couldn’t move on his own, he watched from his stone hut the Somalians pass the bodies of SFC Shughart and MS Gordon around the top of the cheering crowd. After a few minutes, some of the Somalians noticed Mike Durant and charged at him. The Somalians then started punching and kicking Durant
Tien Minh and I walked for a while and talked about different things until we heard a loud sound and people screaming in the distance. As we stood there, I wondered who those screams came from. Was it my mother? The other women and children working in the rice field? Out of fear, I ran back toward the village leaving Tien Minh behind. Once I neared the village, I noticed it was completely destroyed by some sort of explosion. The huts were no longer standing but rather deracinated from the ground below them and some villagers laid unconscious, or dead, while others huddled together in disbelief. Suddenly, another explosion occurred only a short distance away from me. I fell to the ground. My ears were ringing from the sound of what I then realized was a bomb. When I regained my senses, I saw that the villagers were running past me in a frantic fashion. Out of panic, I tried to run, but my entire body was covered in a thick, sticky substance that caused my skin to burn profusely. Because I couldn’t endure the pain, I stripped off my cotton shorts and tank top and began running. Fear and panic caused me to run faster, fast enough to where I caught up to Tien Minh who was a short distance ahead of me. As I ran, I thought of the change of clothes I wished I had. Then I thought of my mother. I told her I’d be back, but I wasn’t sure that I
Gunshots, Fire, bombs, all flying in the sky. Men in uniform are scattering for shelter. It seemed all to simple for General Grant, “Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike at him as hard as you can and as often as you can, and keep moving on.”
I watched the people board the train as I stood in silence in line with the other soldiers. My breath was held suspended as I saw my very own best friend, Josh smiling at us and waving. These innocent people looked so happy, probably imagining of the nice new homes that they would be placed in . Little did they know. I followed the president's instructions which were to make sure nobody escaped and to not make eye contact or interact. Goosebumps trailed up my spine as I thought of what Josh and the others would have to go through in the next hour or so. A single tear slid down my face as I thought of losing my best friend, and not being able to do anything about it.
I finish off the soldiers still near me. The swords man tries to slash diagonally but fails as I recline my body backwards. I force him to fall down using my right leg and I impale him with my sword.
The war has been going on for about two years now, and things don’t seem to be getting any better, there are more soldiers on the hills, more deaths, and less help from the outside. Since the beginning of the war I have been able to justify my killing of the men on the hills, but after a while I realized that each of these people have a story, and not all people are chosen to be evil, but evil chooses them, forcing them to do unrighteous acts, this is why I pick my own targets, so that I know why I want this person dead and not blindly following orders.
For my cold war event I have chose the Vietnam War for many reasons, but mainly because it was the most publicized war on the fear and spread of communism. It's also a war that my grandfather and great uncle served in. When I think of war, I think of the war in Vietnam.
Gunshots flew through the air, it felt like everything was in slow motion to me, I started to feel excitement flood my body, the rush of missing all these bullets made me feel alive, before I knew it I saw the uniforms of our enemies, I raised my gun, looking through my rear sight scope I locked onto on my first victim, he was a young fella, probably 21. I pulled the trigger. Once my gun made its roar I was exposed to everyone’s gunshots, people dropped like feathers, this suddenly became more real to me, I’ve killed more men than I could count, but I couldn’t stop. It was at this point kill or be killed, I didn’t want to die, I just wanted to do honour to my country.
When I think of a place, I perfectly content, I immediately think of the country where I was born 16 years ago. I am from the country of peace, hardworking, caring, and happiness. I am from middle North of Vietnam where I had to walk to school 6 days a week under the hot weather of 99*F. I am from the house with metal roofing, the place with air pollution all year surrounded by Vietnamese people. I am from a great family, eat lunch together, elbows off the table, and asking permission to be excused. That is who I am…..
As the chopper lifted into the air I took in the scenery of Mother Base; a clean, washed off collection of platforms that looked like an oil rig in the middle of the Afghan desert. Soldiers moved back and forth, tending to animals, practicing their aim, and keeping the area secure of infiltrators. Quiet wore a standard vest to blend in with the desert and to maximize the ammo she can hold. She slept in the helicopter’s seating area. In a few hours we arrived at the LZ, Ahab filled me in on the target we were infiltrating. The chopper arrived in the outskirts of the Russian base; the air was a slight breeze to the south. The terrain was rocky and rough, not as dune filled as the northern side of Afghanistan is, this made picking off targets easier. The desert stretched on for roughly 2 kilometers. Quiet leaped out of the chopper as it took off. I heard in my radio, “Be careful down there
One would feel tense in this subdued room, and rightly so. The hesitant light cast eerie shadows on the muted grey walls. A cold shudder trickled down the presenter Richard Page’s spine as he found himself deeply aware of the clinical bromide that wafted from the back of the camera to his nose. It mingled uncomfortably with the musky aftershave that his wife bought him last Christmas. Oh yes, of course, the jolly Christmas. His eyes dilated as he adjusted to the room that was suddenly lit up by clunky arc lights. Was it an interrogation room or a television studio? Perhaps it was both.
I was in a bunker, taliban at my front, bullets whizzing by my head and hitting the sand bags. There are so many explosions, they are throwing grenades at us, if they get close enough we throw them back. I looked to the side, I could possibly take a shot or two. The adrenalin is pumping through me, while all of this is happening. This is real life, this isn’t a video game, where you die and then you respond to a checkpoint, this is it, this is the real deal. These are the exact people we are trying to get rid of, I’ve estimated that there are about 25 of them out there, with 16 of us. This is the job I’ve been set to do, I pull my gun up to my left, I take a few shots at a guy hiding behind a rock. When I see another guy to his left pull up and shoot at me! I duck and cover, stay low. I take a quick peek up, then go to take another shot, but a friendly from behind wants to move up and come beside me. So I tell him “On three I’ll cover you!” I count to three, and I pull up and unload a clip into any foe I see. The soldier made it to me and slid in. I reload, I hit 1 enemy down, and ...
He just managed to burst out from the Pentagon with the federal police hot on his heels. It was September 13th, 2035; a sultry hot autumn, when the most of the Pentagon's military force was at war with invading countries. He sought this as a chance for obtaining some classified entities, which he can sell for millions. The entrance was cleared by his counterpart, Robert, a drunk, tagging along him for “fun”. He only had time to sweep a hard-drive off an office desk before making a beeline into the oppressive heat. He then quickly met with a taxi driver, his loyal friend, Robert, who is constantly drunk, at the set meeting place. He gave him the hard disk and told him to hide it in their planned location. The light of sirens were already beginning
It was about 5 o'clock on blazing hot late July afternoon when I first saw the girl that would threaten my life. We were at an aide meeting in the craft room when my cousin Briana whispered to me, “see that girl over there, she got into a fight last week.”
Sgt. Thompson suggested a plan. We were to move up to the wall, one by one, covered by Pvt. McKenzie. So we did just that, moving up one at a time, covering one another. Various troops were catching on to what we were doing and began to try and reach the dunes. Not all of them were successful. One soldier, only about 18 years old, popped his head up from his cover in the sand. His helmet instantly flew off of his head, and his head had all but disappeared. What seemed to be a gallon of red paint soaked the soldiers behind him. I lost sight of what was going on and fell into deep thought. Who is his mother? Where did he live before being sucked into the life-sucking abyss we called