James began again saying, “I grabbed them and my whole family and we sat on the roof.” He finished the rest of his story, telling us that they had to go to the Superdome for shelter. It was not very safe there, so he took his family and they sought shelter with relatives. The other girls and I held back tears as we listened. He told us about how people were still trying to rebuild their homes, and most were just making it by. The bus pulled up and we hugged the men goodbye, thankful for the humbling experience they offered us that day.
The soldiers pulled a wagon and they flung the lifeless body on to it, as if the body had no use anymore. I quickly take my position in the trenches, and in a few minutes I make two new friends I turn to greet them and I am faced with two long haired unshaved, unwashed men who are scruffily dressed in standard issue brown uniform and dirty soiled black boots: called David and William. The enemy were firing bullet at us, then all of sudden I heard a piercing scream, right behind me. I quickly spun over and see William who had been shot. I yelled out saying: “Man down, man down!” William was desperately moving his legs and arms, in an attempt to fight back his pain.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,— My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori. Dulce et Decorum Est is a monumental literary work that introduces themes of undeserved tragedy, suffering, corruption, and futility. Tragedy, by definition, is “a dramatic composition, dealing with a serious or somber theme, typically that of a great person destined through a flaw of character to downfall”, and it is expressed through the use of diction that serves to emphasize the inevitable role that fate plays; words such as “cursed”, “helpless”, and
“Dad!”… Dakota quickly runs toward his father jumping in to a massive embrace. “Your alive thank the lord!” Dakota manages while crying. “You’re not hurt!” says Bill with a smirch on his face. The both turn and watch the light show of bullets tearing the terrorist limb from limb and look into each other’s eyes and just
(pg. 177)My guess is that it means happy.Cheerful and friendly.When we first met he was a jovial guy. Festooned:At some point during my walk, a convoy of cars, military vans, and Mercedes-Benzes festooned with national flags passed by.My guess is that it means decorated.Adorn with chains, garlands, or other decorations.My nahbors house is always festooned with lights around christmas time. Hailed:I waited in the terminal while Dr. Tamba hailed a taxi, then i ran outside and jumped in, quickly closing the door behind me. (pg.
A little Green Medal Typhoon season was here and my job intensified. I was sitting at my desk in the Port Operations tower in Yokosuka Japan. I was in control of all the traffic coming in and out of one of the biggest overseas Navy harbor our country had. The work day was finally slowing down. My Chief walked pass me and said “Don’t stress out Chitjian, you’re my best dispatcher I got, if anything goes wrong you’ll know what to do and make sure you call me.” He left the tower and went home.
I am going to die, he said. Tell me how I am to do that" - pg 162. His encroaching death, evidenced by his ever worsening cough and the increasing amounts of blood he spits out, clearly indicates that the father is getting closer to the
Screamin’ bursts sourrounds me! Jagged shrapnel on the fly, Kills my buddy makes me cry! *Refrain* Hi Ho Lock n’ Load
I see men begging to have their feet removed, the flesh on their feet rotting away because of the chronic wet conditions in the trenches. I see the dozens of dead bodies of my fallen brethren accumulating in the trenches because it is too dangerous most times to give them a proper burial. I close my eyes today and still cannot escape the sounds of war–the constant gunfire, tank blasts, and the screams of men. I still see enemy soldiers overtaken by mustard gasses, blood streaming from their eyes and mouths and their desperate gasps for air. I remain inspired by my brothers, for we soldiers are able to keep our spirits high despite these conditions.
The captain immediately went on shore, and sent on board some fresh provisions, which we wanted very much: we made good use of them, and our famine was soon turned into feasting, almost without ending. When I arrived in America, and I was near twelve years of age at that time. I was very much struck with awe at the buildings and the pavement of the streets in Santo Domingo; and, indeed, any object I saw filled me with new