A Soldier's Journey: The Personal Account of Pierre Nottlesburg During World War I, Schemes and Mind Maps of English

Download A Soldier's Journey: The Personal Account of Pierre Nottlesburg During World War I and more Schemes and Mind Maps English in PDF only on Docsity! Life in the Trenches April 6, 1917; America joins WW1 (The Start of Something New) Pierre Nottlesburg “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” ― G.K. Chesterton Oh how I’ve waited for this war to come. Political propaganda, and the half-hazard alliance –the Allied Powers– that America was a part of, guaranteed that they were going to join WW1. I had no doubts, everything America has been prepping for, all the years spent preparing an impenetrable military force, why would one prepare such a power if they weren’t going to use it? The shooting of the American ships by Germany only pushed America over the edge they were teetering on for years. All America needed was the slight push, and Germany gave it to us on a silver, cold and bloodied platter. The destruction of American property was a tragedy. I despise everything in it with every fiber of my being against the enemy, who had dared to touch innocent people. Yet we needed these actions as a painful wake-up call. Like a pinch from a confuddled nightmare. Only the weak fear of war, and the only thing that was stopping America, was fear. Fear controls you, contorts and makes you make decisions that would make even the weakest soldiers laugh at. It makes you think irrationally, makes you want to crumble and hide from the smallest of dangers. It turns you into something else, makes you into a mindless, headless chicken, scrambling to pick everything back together. The only thing that was holding us back was fear. We, the people, are one whole nation, and together, we can fight even the most terrifying, brutal, disgusting monsters on this earth. I fight for my family, and the chance to prove myself to my mother nation, is too much of an offer to pass up. I want to give back to my country, and watching my mother, the people who’ve restlessly cared for me and watched me grow, get brutally side lined and trashed by feeble countries, makes my blood run hot with rage and turns my vision dark red. God gave me arms, legs, and a beating heart to fight for my country, for no matter what monstrous dangers lie ahead, and as a man of God, I will bloody my hands dark red so my family doesn’t have to. April 10th, 1917; Departure Pierres Nottlesburg It’s a silent, yet bright Saturday morning. The usual chirping of the nearby blue birds is oddly silent, normally they’re singing praises and light cheers to one another, but who am I to know. The rustling of the winds carried a smell of fresh, but light gunpowder air through the homemade curtains. The sun had just awoken from its slumber, and so had I. The sun lightly skims my eyes, as I drag my body through the door, my head lightly hitting the top of the doorway, every step making creaks through the wooden floorboard. My eyes are tightened shut with eye crust, “a splash of cold water will do it” I thought with a yawn, stretching my sore muscles from the stiff bed I couldn’t wait to get rid of. As my mind whirled with the overwhelming sensation of thoughts, my three children came jollily gallivanting through our home behind me, tackling me all at once. My heart swelled with love and adoration, bursting into a fit of laughter as I hugged them tighter. I couldn’t help it, their mischievous grins filled with remains of a battle with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My children consisted of 2 young boys, Connor and Kevin, and one girl, Sai. The boys were 11 while my girl was 9. I do have another one, but he’s already hit the age of manhood and left the house to explore college opportunities. Many people lack the chance to get an education, and everytime I think of him I feel prideful. I do dearly miss him though, I hope to see him graduate. I was soon thrown out of my thoughts by my bumbling children, taking me by the hand down to the kitchen where my wife was cooking. “Goodmorning shortstacks, father’s heading somewhere special today, let's make this breakfast extra delicious.” They perked up in excitement, the boys scurrying their littles legs down to the kitchen. Sai waited, only looked up at me, and asked if she could come too. Her eyes drooped down in disappointment when I could only shake my head, as she stalked off to join the rest of her siblings. The smell of rich toast took me out of my daze to the kitchen, where my wife was humbly chopping away at a loaf of bread. I woke to the dazzling smile of my wife, Donnie Marksace. Her warm blue eyes made me feel loved, as she gave me a kiss on the cheek. I couldn’t help but grin, telling her good morning as she laughed, her long, hazelnut hair laid on her shoulders like a crown. She told me to sit and eat, while we talked for what seemed like hours with my children, setting stone in my heart that what I had to do was a must. I nearly have forgotten that I had to set off to war soon, busy being with the people I loved, the taste of warm bread is something I could never forget. Everything was perfect, I would trade the world for a minute of the pure bliss of happiness I was in. Before I knew it the sun had set a mellow yellow, a pestering reminder that all good things come to an end. The birds are dead silent, the type of silence only given during a memorial of a highly ranked soldier, or a morbid funeral where people are silent to mourn the dead. Any other noise felt inappropriate for such a time. The trees cackled instead of rustle, I could feel the eyes of my family drilling holes into me, as I clutch my hands into a tight fist. I could hear people yelling, officers shouting instructions as long lines of tireless men stood in order, waiting to get sacrificed for our mother country. I could feel my heart racing, either with I should’ve expected it, I knew it was coming. I knew it was going to happen at any rate, I just didn’t think it would actually happen. I’m a man of God, but how could God be so cruel? I’ve done everything right, I’ve fought for my mother nation with every limb of my body, I’ve fought sleepless nights, until the only thing my body could do without pain was blink. I’ve felt my cheeks go hot from the burning sun, suffered hypothermia from ferocious nights, and fought for the trenches to the point that the only thing I could smell was the dead. I’ve experienced every ups and downs of war, watched the people I fought beside for years get shot down by the Germans like they were nothing. I’ve starved, I’ve cried, I’ve screamed, but America doesn’t care. I’ve fought for America, but America would never fight for me. I am nothing but a pawn, I’ve been used by my own mother. I’m a sacrifice. Years of trench fighting stopped me from feeling, but in this one moment I’ve let it fall. I had my gun, and pointed it towards my foot. My foot was honestly disgusting, it smelled like rotten eggs, and was beaten and battered to the point that it was unrecognizable. All the soldier's feet were like this, but what set mine apart was how it was blotchy and swollen. I couldn’t feel anything from it, it was as useless as I am. One bullet in my foot and I can finally go home, I’ll be unrecognizable to my own family, but if they’re suffering, we could suffer together. That's what a family is really about. I tightened my grip on the gun. “Jesus Axel, you’re really something” I said, as my son Axel announced his scholarship to a nursing school, he bursted towards me and I caught him in a bear hug. “When you see me again, I’ll be a nurse, helping people on the battlefield.” “I know you will be Axel, you’re just the type. I need to get you a congratulatory gift y’know?” “You don’t need to, you’ve done so much for me I could never ask for anything more.” “Always, you’re too good for us, I’m your father, there has to be something?” There was a pause. Axel looked up and asked in a small voice. “Could you see me graduate?” I erupted in laughter, holding my son closer. “Of course, I would love to.” I loaded the gun. “Please stay, please please stay, stay for us, stay so we can see you again,” I pressed it towards my foot, my foot couldn’t feel the gun’s weight at all. A life where you can barely think past getting a meal isn’t worth living. “I love you Pierre Nottlesburg,” Donnie announced. My heart fluttered, and I couldn’t help it but grin ear to ear. At this moment, I knew she was going to be my wife. “Everytime I’m around you Pierre, I can’t help but want to be with you more. When we’re not together I feel cold, lonely.” “Then let's be together forever.” I hesitated. I can’t muster the courage to shoot. I ridicule America for being controlled by fear, yet I can’t shoot a bullet for my family. Rage boiled my blood, the last thing I want is to be afraid, scared to face my own family. Scared of my own mother, whether she’s used me or not, she will always be my mother. I am not afraid *BANG* At the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, World War I ends The Guns of the Western Front have finally fallen Silent We mourn the loss of our brave soldiers who’ve fought in the war. Made sacrifices for their country and the people, we could not be one without their compassionate souls. The sons and daughters sent to fight for their mother country could see how much of an impact their lives made, being the nation's defenders. We could not be where we are today without them. Here lies Pierre Joseph Nottlesburg, who died from the combination of blood loss and the infection of a shot foot. He was a bright light in the midst of the darkness of war. He was a family man, fought for his nation and his family. His impact on the people around him will be forever remembered. (An image of the life that soldiers in the trenches had to go through.)