Fighting a War :: Personal Narrative Papers

Fighting a War I have nalways been to struggle. I hope Ill never go. There is nothing that I believe in enough to sacrifice my animateness. These are supposed to be days of high-mindedness and youth, and I am blessed. I cannot care. I cannot fight. The only appealing wee thing about violence is the potential for heroism, and I doubt Ill ever be a hero or save an innocent life from a burning building, stop a runaway train exchangeable so many bad movies. I cant see myself triumphing over this world. I can see myself climb out of the trench and nobly concentrate mowed down by the bullets of a gattling gun. I let fly an cursor from my longbow. In the cockpit of a fighter plane, props twirling, I strafe Japanese ships and dodge innumerable Zeros. On a dusty hill I calculate the trajectory of an artillery shell and re-check my math. I slink through a dark jungle and blend in with the foliage, camouflaging my thoughts, a shade off amidst completely the life. I can only see mysel f in struggle movies, not in actual wars.I have never been in an honest-to-god kill or be killed full on vehement fight, much less a nationally sponsored war. Never defended my life or my honor, or someone elses but I have taken and lamentably given a beating. The closest I have ever been to war is a controlled skirmish with a friend, a fistfight for fun. No anger. iodin time, at his twenty-first birthday party, Frank and I gave up on docile lives and began to fight.Neither of us was born in Idaho. We never grew up together but weve both spent some time there. Our families moved, his east mine west, Hong Kong and Connecticut, so were there for the summer and the winter. We know some of the selfsame(prenominal) people, like the Peruvians and Adam Pracna and Jason Spicer, but were three years too far-off apart.Im younger, and we never hung out. Weve got mutual friends and weve eaten at all the same places. Small town, not many places. Weve both driven out the same canyons in a pi ckup with mud and girls, same girls? Who knows? Theres a keg or both in the back kicking up dust up into it all and clouding up the sky, and were throwing empty glass bottles shattering at trees and shadows and animals as we drive and sing.