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The problem with war is that it tends to brutalise everyone involved, even those who are fighting for the best of motives

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Introduction

Personal Writing : Fiction JAMES MARSHALL 21/11/00 "The problem with war is that it tends to brutalise everyone involved, even those who are fighting for the best of motives." "I hear one coming sir!" "Get down boys." I shouted above the din of the whizz-bangs. It was like a shower of mud and water as they exploded nearby in no-mans land. Then I saw one tracking across the sky like clay pigeon out of a trap. It was going was going to come down right on Old-Johnny's head, and sure enough, it did. It was an awful mess. I could see the sky light up around me as the shells crashed down to earth, only getting a moment of darkness in between explosions. I tried to settle down for the night on a ledge above the clay of the Somme, but for some reason I couldn't. I decided to write a letter to my sweetheart, to pass the time. I needed no light of my own, as the frequent explosions provided enough. ...read more.

Middle

Some people have no respect for the dead. I even saw somebody hanging his jacket on a dead mans foot that was sticking out of the wall of the trench. The Hun were still shooting at us. It was never ending. Every second of the day was filled by somebody letting a shell or bullet loose. But then, the fire stopped. Something was brewing. The Germans don't stop shooting for nothing. It had happened once before I recall. Everything stopped, and then we heard the dreaded whistling noise. It was a whole flock of bombs flying across the sky, as though they were in formation. Luckily they missed that time. Then, I heard that familiar whistle again. It seemed to last for an age, torturing the ears. I could see one coming towards me. I froze. I knew I wouldn't get away. I closed my eyes, preparing for the explosion. "THUD...HISS." "Gas! Gas! Quick boys!" I shouted to them all, whilst I was fumbling with my clumsy helmet. ...read more.

Conclusion

Some soldiers dared to pop their heads over the top of the trench. In the end I gave into curiosity and also looked over. That's when I saw the Germans also peering over the edge also, somewhat in terror. It was quite bizarre. Then the thought suddenly hit me. They were coming over the top. "Get ready lads. This is it." They rose up out of their trench, and charged. "Aim...FIRE...Aim...FIRE." They were mown down in waves, one after another. It was a gruesome affair. Then I saw one coming close to our trench, his goal. I could not bear to bring myself to shoot him, as he was so close. He suddenly zigzagged off to the left, away from me, and dived into our trench. He was alone. He looked around for some support, but there was none. He got pounced upon immediately, and then slaughtered like a lamb. That kind of warfare isn't heroic; it's just plain murder. The problem with war is that it tends to brutalise everyone involved, even those who are fighting for the best of motives. Based on the First World War poems of : DULCE ET DECORUM EST (WILFRED OWEN) BREAKFAST (WILFRED GIBSON) ...read more.

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