Tristan Coglon
Professor David
English 1301.701
7 October 2014
Battlefield
The first thing you notice is the pungent smell of rotting flesh, from all of your fallen comrades and enemies. The unbearable rotting flesh masks any and all other things there are to smell. No one will ever realize how horrific war is until you witness it all for yourself.
The cool wind that blows around you doesn’t seem to help to get rid of the disgusting smell, in fact, it brings in additional smells, the smell of dust, smoke and blood from the surrounding area fill your nostrils. These smells bring in feelings of anxiousness, nervousness and hopelessness, as you have no idea if you’re next. As your heart begins to skip a beat you step off that boat and sprint onto the beach into battle just as your brothers did before you. Sand fly’s up with every step every solder makes hitting you in the face as you do the same to the solder behind you. Just before the tree line every one of your comrades stop. You stop to look off into forest filled with fire and darkness. We all stood there for what seemed like forever just staring, eyes stuck looking at hell right in front of them.
Snapping out of the trance we were stuck in I look left, then right, nothing but a long line of solders. Nothing but blank faces, but inside I knew what they were all feeling, thinking, wishing. Thoughts of turning around, running back to the safety of the cold hard ship you came from. Knowing that would bring disgrace to your flag they sprint into the bloody field of fallen brothers and enemies. As they run through