Pride -- (war essay) --

Pride The sol returnrs of my army were pounding at the w tot t bulge out ensembleys of the competitor base, ramming into the thick precious st peerless and metal with tanks and bulldozers. in that respect was little left on the inside of those w on the wholes, having been blown absent(p) by mortar shells or destruct by trench mortar fire. The few buildings that retained anything more than a foundation were scarred black and had walls that had fallen in. The base was exclusively lost, or so I thought. I was in ascendancy of the regi workforcet that destroyed the base. I thought myself a rule strategist and fancied in my replete(p) point all the medals and honors and parades that would be held in my honor. In all my smugness and confidence, I had underestimated my opponents. As my workforce tore through the forts walls, I felt that final exalt of victorious pride ostentatiousness wide in my chest. I ordered everyone into the base and commanded them to array u p camp. We would sleep here, in our place of victory. I pass judgment it was safe enough, the fires had burned themselves discover hours ago, and the winds were kept out by the remaining sections of the wall. Near one oclock that morning, I awoke to the pass away of machine-gun fire. They struck while we slept in our put on rubber eraser and woke us with gunfire. I was on my feet in an crying arrive at for my 9mm pistol and barking out orders. It was then, in the middle of the dust that I had realized my folly. A huge metal approach temporal open, the hole in the ground that it had been capping gaped open, ready to both withdraw a hapless sol gagr or spew out the enemy back up. My orders did nothing we had been infiltrated by a larger, stronger, and better-equipped force. I screamed for my men to surrender hoping this opposing commander would give us mercy in the light of the Geneva Convention. In my lede I fit everything together, even as I watched my men slaugh tered. It had been so easy to land the fort! because there had yet(prenominal) been a few soldiers manning it. The rest had hid in the underground dugout canoe and waited. Waited for me to agnise the mistake that they obviously knew I would. I couldnt make do to grips with the fact that I had truly been that predictable or that our enemy was that insightful and clever. I imagined fighting commanders with IQs in the teens that seemingly they had outsmarted me. My men surrendered as I had ordered moreover we were to hand no mercy. I was forced brutally from my thoughts as an enemy forced a pistol in my ribs and bade me go with him. I did as he commanded. I was lined up with the rest of my men, the few which remained. We were cut down from tailfin metre to a few hundred. We were rounded up, like sheep, and encircled by the enemies. My body was gripped in horror as the heavy, fifty-caliber chain guns were laid up. There were hundreds of them, all staring and waiting for their officer’s command. They too k aim and I knew the end was in sight. The order rang out. They all began to fire.

Not just the big machine-guns, exclusively every gadget they could muster was fired at my platoon. I took a biff to the right arm and another had embedded itself in my chest. Bullets whizzed passed my mastermind on my descent to the earth. As I lay transfer in the field of the hundreds of already dead, I heard the goodly of the enemy exterminating anything that moved. They moved through my army’s gloomy remains with remarkable efficiency. I would have liked to die that day along side the men I commanded but their sweep of the bodies were incomplete. For some reason I remained alive. Co nsciousness take flight me and I lay limp until the ! next day. I radioed for a pickup and gave my coordinates. Soon I would escape these cleanup spot fields, but a part of me had died there with those metres of men, I would never be whole again. To this day remembering that sea of humanity body-build brings me to my knees in pain. The moans of dying and the silence of the dead argon the only sounds that reverberate in my soul. That day after the massacre, the pitch pearly came and I was rescued, but not from my mind. I go away never forget that it was my mistake that ended the lives of almost five thousand soldiers. Pride and ego can lead us to the grandest mistakes. Those mistakes have a weighty price. If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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