Poetry Project Reflection
When first creating my poem I had the idea that I would describe the main experiences of life, like love, death, birth, marriage, etc. But when I had finished my first three or four stanzas I introduced a small phrase or stanza about time. When I had begun writing I did not really think to much of time and how it contributed to so much life has to offer. After critique I had a new mindset of my poem and how I would focus most about time. I don’t have evidence from my first poem draft because after my first critique I had just ran of what I had already and didn't change much and just added my perspective time after that. I had only added smaller details to create more of a poem that would keep the reader questioning our perspective on time plus create a poem with more reality to it. The biggest shift in perspective that had changed the most was that at the beginning of my poem I had started to tell the reader the reality of what constrictions time poses on us and how without time our society/world wouldn't be able to function well. As I began to write the middle part of my poem I veered off the idea of the reality of time and more toward the direction of questioning what our life would be like without time, and wondering if it would really matter either way.
Again when I was creating my poem I don’t have any evidence of my different drafts because I had just kept writing and editing of of one draft. By the end of editing my poem I had gone through each line and stanza adding in correct grammar and punctuation to make correct stops and pauses when reading my poem. By doing so I felt like in my perspective that when I would stop at the end of a line or phrase it would emphasize the feel or vibe of the individual stanzas that flowed together creating my poem. I felt like this edit to my poem had made it easier to read for someone who would look over my poem along with the fact that it helped give a better way of delivering the lines or phrases as you would read along.
The biggest yet very small addition that I had done to my poem was towards the ending stanzas they became bigger so I fixed the so that they were some what the same size as the others. By do this I had edited the way these stanzas flowed together which wasn't good because of the fact that the first part of my poem had relatively small sized stanzas. These large stanzas had thrown off the fluidity of the stanzas throughout the rest of my poem. By editing these large stanzas I made it a lot easier for me as the author to understand in a better way, the rest of my the message that I had tried to get across toward the end. This was important for my poem because of the way that I had created a more fluent trail between stanzas to get the reader through without being confused on the way I had set up my writing.
Again when I was creating my poem I don’t have any evidence of my different drafts because I had just kept writing and editing of of one draft. By the end of editing my poem I had gone through each line and stanza adding in correct grammar and punctuation to make correct stops and pauses when reading my poem. By doing so I felt like in my perspective that when I would stop at the end of a line or phrase it would emphasize the feel or vibe of the individual stanzas that flowed together creating my poem. I felt like this edit to my poem had made it easier to read for someone who would look over my poem along with the fact that it helped give a better way of delivering the lines or phrases as you would read along.
The biggest yet very small addition that I had done to my poem was towards the ending stanzas they became bigger so I fixed the so that they were some what the same size as the others. By do this I had edited the way these stanzas flowed together which wasn't good because of the fact that the first part of my poem had relatively small sized stanzas. These large stanzas had thrown off the fluidity of the stanzas throughout the rest of my poem. By editing these large stanzas I made it a lot easier for me as the author to understand in a better way, the rest of my the message that I had tried to get across toward the end. This was important for my poem because of the way that I had created a more fluent trail between stanzas to get the reader through without being confused on the way I had set up my writing.
Human Trafficking Article
Reed Frey
1/28/15
Humanities
Lori Fisher
Underground Globalization
From 1995-2005 it was estimated by the U.S. Department of State that there are between 4-27 million people who have fallen victim to human trafficking. During this generation of globalization and new innovation, why is human trafficking and forced labor still in effect? In 2014 it was estimated that the lowest amount of victims had raised from 4 million to 12 million. This shows that the amount of people being trafficked has increased since 1995. This increase is tied to Free Trade worldwide which has come with the process of globalization.
Globalization has opened up countries to cultures and new innovation, but has created a wide range of easy human trafficking and forced labor. This affects developing and wealthy countries in a negative manner.
The biggest problem that poses against my solution is the worldwide free trade system that lets countries import or export products with less tax and laws against exporting countries. This poses a threat because now countries have opened their doors up even more letting more immigrants into their countries. This makes for easier human trafficking and smuggling. This system is also very helpful for large corporations by creating an easy way to create factories in different countries and providing an easier way to create global corporation around the world. This makes it hard for new laws to be passed to tighten down on the free trade system which provides a wide range of connection in labor and products.
Globalization around the world has given individuals more opportunities for innovation and a wide range of new levels of competition. With a new range of innovative, wealth, and technology, countries have been influenced by different ideas and cultures from across the globe. Globalization has given us the opportunity to mix and collaborate our ideas and technologies with each other here or in a far away country. We have been given the opportunity to use technologies in different places that would usually take a long time to find or get in locally or in the state. There is a very big gap between developing and developed countries include wealth inequality. Globalization has opened up a wide range of new binding qualities but are mostly given to those who can afford it.
Companies across the world with large budgets set up factories in places with low wages and small worker costs giving companies maximum profit.
Human trafficking has vastly enlarged since 1995 to 2014. I believe that this increase has been caused by the industry of factories in poor countries with low labor wages and rights. Many developing countries sometimes urge their citizens the leave because of the governments lack of wealth or power. Most cases of human trafficking come from migrants or people being lured out of their country in search of better jobs. The Free Trade act has broken the barriers of trade between countries and has given an underground highway for traffickers. Since the early stages of globalization many countries have opened their doors to a new world of wealth but leaking in and out and exploitation of people later put in slave like conditions used for profit.
Many poor countries are faced with their citizens as being sick or unfit for work, which lets traffickers bring in people from other places to work in factories for low or no wages.
Globalization has created a world for new ideas and cultures but are given to those who can afford it which put developing or poor countries at a disadvantage. Many citizens of these countries migrate elsewhere some of whom are taken or lured into forced labor in different developing economies. In some cases Globalization has put countries down the hole given no choices but to use dark measures to gain profit which includes importing or exporting people to work in sweatshops or factories. It is said the over 55% of the people that are trafficked for labor are women or girls with little to no education.
I believe that human trafficking can’t be stopped completely but decreased by the amount of people who fall victim. Human trafficking is most common between borders of countries, which could be gaged by new laws between borders and the amount of people who travel between countries each day. The problem is that most cases of hard labor and human trafficking come from within a country after an immigrant has arrived. When a person who doesn't have a passport wants to come over they come to someone who gets paid to smuggle them illegally into a certain country which upon arrival the immigrants usually live in poor neighborhoods with alot of violence and criminal activity which makes them easier to become victim of human trafficking.
My proposed solution is that since most victims of human trafficking are immigrants looking for better jobs, each country should put up a national organization that helps create and set up employment and income solutions for unwealthy workers. Each country can also tighten down on borders and free trade. Free trade lets factories and corporations lower their workers wages and rights which makes for an easy way to traffick workers to these factories. If we tighten down on certain branches of free trade like this then there will certainly be a decrease in forced labor and trafficking. Over 55% victims of human trafficking are women and girls. The major solution for this, is that a woman or girls have equal education eligibility as men and boys. This will educate women on how to make a living in their own country and teach them about the dangers of traveling to a different country. Im not saying that all women need this but most women in poor or developing countries to not have the choice of education.
In this generation of globalization we are given many new products and faced with new cultures, but we are also faced with an easier and more capable way of human trafficking and forced labor. In this world we hear about happy sad and depressing stories with a click of a button, we can also buy a wide variety of products with a click of a button. Globalization has made many of us equal with the amount of capabilities and choices it gives us. Yet we are still faced with the fact that people overpower others. Take advantage of them by trafficking and forcing them into harsh labor conditions because they have the capability to, why are we not all equal in that sense?
"Human Trafficking | Polaris | Combating Human Trafficking and Modern-day Slavery." Human Trafficking | Polaris | Combating Human Trafficking and Modern-day Slavery. Polaris Project, n.d. Web. 11 Feb. 2015.
"Statistics." - Trafficking.org. N.p., n.d. Web. 03 Mar. 2015.
Reed Frey
1/28/15
Humanities
Lori Fisher
Underground Globalization
From 1995-2005 it was estimated by the U.S. Department of State that there are between 4-27 million people who have fallen victim to human trafficking. During this generation of globalization and new innovation, why is human trafficking and forced labor still in effect? In 2014 it was estimated that the lowest amount of victims had raised from 4 million to 12 million. This shows that the amount of people being trafficked has increased since 1995. This increase is tied to Free Trade worldwide which has come with the process of globalization.
Globalization has opened up countries to cultures and new innovation, but has created a wide range of easy human trafficking and forced labor. This affects developing and wealthy countries in a negative manner.
The biggest problem that poses against my solution is the worldwide free trade system that lets countries import or export products with less tax and laws against exporting countries. This poses a threat because now countries have opened their doors up even more letting more immigrants into their countries. This makes for easier human trafficking and smuggling. This system is also very helpful for large corporations by creating an easy way to create factories in different countries and providing an easier way to create global corporation around the world. This makes it hard for new laws to be passed to tighten down on the free trade system which provides a wide range of connection in labor and products.
Globalization around the world has given individuals more opportunities for innovation and a wide range of new levels of competition. With a new range of innovative, wealth, and technology, countries have been influenced by different ideas and cultures from across the globe. Globalization has given us the opportunity to mix and collaborate our ideas and technologies with each other here or in a far away country. We have been given the opportunity to use technologies in different places that would usually take a long time to find or get in locally or in the state. There is a very big gap between developing and developed countries include wealth inequality. Globalization has opened up a wide range of new binding qualities but are mostly given to those who can afford it.
Companies across the world with large budgets set up factories in places with low wages and small worker costs giving companies maximum profit.
Human trafficking has vastly enlarged since 1995 to 2014. I believe that this increase has been caused by the industry of factories in poor countries with low labor wages and rights. Many developing countries sometimes urge their citizens the leave because of the governments lack of wealth or power. Most cases of human trafficking come from migrants or people being lured out of their country in search of better jobs. The Free Trade act has broken the barriers of trade between countries and has given an underground highway for traffickers. Since the early stages of globalization many countries have opened their doors to a new world of wealth but leaking in and out and exploitation of people later put in slave like conditions used for profit.
Many poor countries are faced with their citizens as being sick or unfit for work, which lets traffickers bring in people from other places to work in factories for low or no wages.
Globalization has created a world for new ideas and cultures but are given to those who can afford it which put developing or poor countries at a disadvantage. Many citizens of these countries migrate elsewhere some of whom are taken or lured into forced labor in different developing economies. In some cases Globalization has put countries down the hole given no choices but to use dark measures to gain profit which includes importing or exporting people to work in sweatshops or factories. It is said the over 55% of the people that are trafficked for labor are women or girls with little to no education.
I believe that human trafficking can’t be stopped completely but decreased by the amount of people who fall victim. Human trafficking is most common between borders of countries, which could be gaged by new laws between borders and the amount of people who travel between countries each day. The problem is that most cases of hard labor and human trafficking come from within a country after an immigrant has arrived. When a person who doesn't have a passport wants to come over they come to someone who gets paid to smuggle them illegally into a certain country which upon arrival the immigrants usually live in poor neighborhoods with alot of violence and criminal activity which makes them easier to become victim of human trafficking.
My proposed solution is that since most victims of human trafficking are immigrants looking for better jobs, each country should put up a national organization that helps create and set up employment and income solutions for unwealthy workers. Each country can also tighten down on borders and free trade. Free trade lets factories and corporations lower their workers wages and rights which makes for an easy way to traffick workers to these factories. If we tighten down on certain branches of free trade like this then there will certainly be a decrease in forced labor and trafficking. Over 55% victims of human trafficking are women and girls. The major solution for this, is that a woman or girls have equal education eligibility as men and boys. This will educate women on how to make a living in their own country and teach them about the dangers of traveling to a different country. Im not saying that all women need this but most women in poor or developing countries to not have the choice of education.
In this generation of globalization we are given many new products and faced with new cultures, but we are also faced with an easier and more capable way of human trafficking and forced labor. In this world we hear about happy sad and depressing stories with a click of a button, we can also buy a wide variety of products with a click of a button. Globalization has made many of us equal with the amount of capabilities and choices it gives us. Yet we are still faced with the fact that people overpower others. Take advantage of them by trafficking and forcing them into harsh labor conditions because they have the capability to, why are we not all equal in that sense?
"Human Trafficking | Polaris | Combating Human Trafficking and Modern-day Slavery." Human Trafficking | Polaris | Combating Human Trafficking and Modern-day Slavery. Polaris Project, n.d. Web. 11 Feb. 2015.
"Statistics." - Trafficking.org. N.p., n.d. Web. 03 Mar. 2015.
Globalization Reflection
During this project we chose a subject and I chose human trafficking. I then researched how globalization has increased Human trafficking and Forced labor. After gaining this research I wrote an article about how these two have increased because of globalization and in depth how they affected certain countries. I also wrote about what causes these two things and how they tie to globalization. After completing our article we had to create a political cartoon that somewhat ties to what my article was about. After completing this project I learned most while I researched certain aspects of globalization and human trafficking. I feel that globalization in most ways are very helpful and connecting us with new ideas cultures and technology but by doing so there are different loopholes to do such horrible things to one another. I had learned that the Free Trade Act has a law that one country can not ban an product because of how its made, making it easier for factories to treat their workers almost like slaves and in some cases they are slaves.
Op-Ed Reflection
I feel like this writing I’ve done in this article has been better than ones in the past. I felt like I was very informed about what I wrote about and I really got into the subject I was talking about. I’ve also done a lot of fictional writing and I think that this was the first time that I really researched and kinda outlined and organized my article before I wrote it out. I learned a lot about how to really revise and look back on what I actually wrote about in my paragraphs before I hand them in. This was because I felt like I would either bring up good points and not go in depth about what these points meant or I would almost be writing about the same thing using different evidence or bring different aspects. I think I just learned about how I should go about self critiquing my work and really putting an effort into rearranging, adding, or taking away stuff in my writing.
During this project we chose a subject and I chose human trafficking. I then researched how globalization has increased Human trafficking and Forced labor. After gaining this research I wrote an article about how these two have increased because of globalization and in depth how they affected certain countries. I also wrote about what causes these two things and how they tie to globalization. After completing our article we had to create a political cartoon that somewhat ties to what my article was about. After completing this project I learned most while I researched certain aspects of globalization and human trafficking. I feel that globalization in most ways are very helpful and connecting us with new ideas cultures and technology but by doing so there are different loopholes to do such horrible things to one another. I had learned that the Free Trade Act has a law that one country can not ban an product because of how its made, making it easier for factories to treat their workers almost like slaves and in some cases they are slaves.
Op-Ed Reflection
I feel like this writing I’ve done in this article has been better than ones in the past. I felt like I was very informed about what I wrote about and I really got into the subject I was talking about. I’ve also done a lot of fictional writing and I think that this was the first time that I really researched and kinda outlined and organized my article before I wrote it out. I learned a lot about how to really revise and look back on what I actually wrote about in my paragraphs before I hand them in. This was because I felt like I would either bring up good points and not go in depth about what these points meant or I would almost be writing about the same thing using different evidence or bring different aspects. I think I just learned about how I should go about self critiquing my work and really putting an effort into rearranging, adding, or taking away stuff in my writing.
Lumberjack
By Reed Frey
Introduction
Hello my name is Reed Frey, and for this project we wrote about a major event either during WW1 or WW2 and wrote about a character of our choice during this event. My story is about a lumberjack named James Backer who lived in Washington state and was drafted into WW2 as a tank gunner. I will be reading to you a scene were James and other draftees are on a bus heading towards a training base. During this scene it transitions from the James on the buses to an action scene in Germany.
The snow ever so slightly kissed our shoulders as our team of men walked through the snow covered stone pathway of the lantern-lit boulevard. The occasional sound of shells being fired upon the town startled the young recruits who straggled in from other battlefields. At every second, the shells got closer until I realized I was covered in rubble, and the sound of my breathing suffocates the chaos of the siege of Bastogne. The remaining sunlight that made it through the tree canopy lands on the heated soil under the July sun. I’ve been working with two other men trying to finish this last load of lumber before it goes to the mill. My arms tense up at every swing I take at the still partly alive log that stands before my feet.
All I want to do is stay out here in the forests of Washington state. As I head back to my cabin I watch all the different trees that walk with me. I leave my axe on a tree near the back of my cabin. As I step onto the porch I notice a glimmer on one of my chairs, I pick it up, Its an empty bullet casing. My mind races to pick out where it came from. I finally find out I put it there from a hunting trip I had just come back from two days earlier. This is the casing that took down my first buck of the season. I put it on my table to get lost in the sea of flyers for the hell that continues over seas. My feet start heading for the backdoor before my mind tells me I forgot my bag of tobacco. I’ve never really liked the taste of already-packaged cigarettes, It’s just nice to roll my own cigarette to feel like I’ve earned it. I didn’t realize I would spend the rest of my afternoon sitting in my chair, smoking cigarettes, and watching the mountain that dives into the valley under my backyard. My eyes began to get heavier and heavier until I gave in and retired to my bedroom.
Next thing I knew, I was drawn awake by a click clack click clack on my porch. I jumped up and opened the door before the little man with wide glasses and big ears could hold his arm up and knock on my door.
I said “ hello” and he responded “ Are you James Backer “.
“ Yes I am”. He handed me an envelope and stepped off the porch towards his truck. I asked what was in the envelope, he said “ The Draft. It's a letter from the government my friend!”. I sat down as he leapt into his truck and drove down the windy dirt road surrounded by an army of pine trees. My heart crept even deeper into my chest, I took one step back and fell back onto my porch steps. I would only have a week to say goodbye to the place I call home and my friends before I am trained and sent into the smoke of chaos and despair.
It is Friday now, and as I step off the steps of my rickety porch I take one last good look at the mountain that lays across the valley under my backyard, this will be the last time that I am surrounded by the life that I have come to love, and the people I’ve come to call friends. My feet guides me toward my bike as my my hand uncaps the gas tank to check the gasoline level. This would be my last joyride down the windy dirt road surrounded by green pine trees that show me the way to town. The slight chill of the breeze that glides through my ragged hair as I swiftly pass the trees that used to walk with me on the journeys home from work. As my bike rolls onto the transition from dirt to pavement as I near the town I knew in that moment I had left behind the life I love for the sake of those in need overseas. My feet head for the registration office, and my palm opens the door. I ask the tubby little man that hides behind the counter where to go, he says to walk over to the fairgrounds where there are four busses waiting to pick up anyone who was drafted from Washington to somewhere along California where we will be trained.
As I reach the busses at the far end of the fairgrounds parking lot, I give the sergeant my green slip and he tells me to “get on the damn bus”. I hop on the second to last “damn bus” and head for one of the middle seats. I can see there are only about six of us on each bus so far. as I come to a seat I see a man hunched over looking for something under his seat.
He suddenly says “ ah ha!” and holds up a good looking watch that he apparently dropped.
His eyes turn to me and his grin gets even wider he then says “ Damn James they got you too haha sit right here!”
It was Joseph, one of my lumberjack buddies. As I sit down it seems like fifteen minutes before the buses start up and roll out of the parking lot. A part of me is happy because I have Joseph with me but my heart sinks as we past the last stop sign, and we start our journey to each little town on our way to either death or despair the rest of our lives. We stop at continuous towns picking up more and more draftees.
We stop at very small sad looking town,and pick up twenty more men as we leave, we can still hear the sound of loved ones crying goodbye with what hope they have left. Its about ten P.M., and the busses are quite full but not much chatter or even a slight sound. It may be because no one knows each other here or the fact that its almost eleven P.M. might be the case. As the night rolls on with us the skin of my eyelids grew heavier as if they are being filled with a small amount of pebbles. Now I'm looking stupid because my head keeps bobbing up and down as I doze off and come back to reality again. I finally give in to the fact that sleep is upon me. My hands shiver with what warmth I have left as our bodies are chilled by the damp blizzard that has fallen upon the small town. My ears tremble with the sound of tracks moving closer and closer until we only see a large muzzle through the white sheet of snow. A quick light flashes and the building next us crashes onto our position. The damp snow seeps through our ragged jackets and onto our cold skin. My ear rings with sound of an artillery shell that hit the tank disabling its movement. The metal top door opens with a creaking sound. Out comes a German who runs off but decides to turn around and kneels down like he was surrendering. Our ears fill with a crack that came from the bell tower, a red mist spreads around the mans chest and he collapses to the damp snow. We are overwhelmed with the sound of gunfire from the tree line, and out come at least fifteen Germans, Samuel’s hit, Bridges is hit, James is hit. We fire back with the bark of our fifty-cal and the German soldiers go down one after the other. four of them then turn around and run back into the forest. We then find out later, eight of us were killed in the matter of seconds. Our convoy of buses reach the outskirts of Los Angeles. As we enter the city, we get off the freeway and go into the back streets to avoid traffic. We then end up some how getting out of the maze that the city holds and now we are on our way to the 113th tank regime training base fifteen miles away. As we reach the base in our minds we know training is only a small part of our time at war. Our sergeant steps off the bus and hands us over to our drill sergeants. As we stand at “ attention” our sergeants call out names, and separate us into six groups of twenty and we are then assigned our barracks.
Our drill sergeant tell us to “drop off our shit” and “form a single file line in front of the door”, we are heading for an “ appointment “ as we reach a pale looking building we hear a slight buzzing and as people go in they come out without hair. I am deeply sorrowful about this because I take great pride in my hair which gets a lot of the women. As I come out I can’t stop from rubbing my head. I see Joseph walk over and he says “ You look terrible “ and I reply “ shut up! you do too” we then chuckle a little bit.
He asks what barack number I am in, I say “ I think B12, his is B11”
“ Well I’ll see you around” as he runs off to his barack.
As I enter my barack, I step over to where my bag is and I then put it in the top bunk. A large man comes over to me and says “ Hey that’s my bunk! I called it !“ I replied, “ well my stuff was here so go somewhere else “ he then pushes me and knocks me against the wall, I grab his shirt and lift him off his feet, I say “ move somewhere else! “ he smiles and puts his hand out and says “ No hard feelings “ I say “ It’s allright “ as he sets his stuff on the top bunk next to my now official bunk. Its been a tiring, day mostly because of the driving, but it isn’t lunch yet and all we want to do is sleep.
A small group of five guys gather around a deck of cards as me and my new friend Tyreese try to get some rest. The group gets louder and louder until Tyreese yells at “them to shut the hell up”. A man from the group not knowing how large Tyreese is says “ How bout you move somewhere else “ Tyreese stands up and looks him dead in the eye as a drip of fear mixed with salt in a sweat droplet falls from his cheek he then says sorry and sits down and says “ shhhhh “ to the rest of the group. Tyreese walks back as I chucked and say “ scared the shit out of them! “ he laughs and lays back down. It seems to be about five minutes before the sergeant barges in and says “ get up maggots time for suffering! “ we then march out into the courtyard where there are two other groups of twenty men. A man says “ down in push up position! “ “ hold it! “ it feels like a half an hour goes by of holding this position. He says “ alright down up down up “ and we go at it for about an hour until we stand up. He then says “ you boys ready for some runnin? “ our hope shrinks and our smiles are at that moment wiped off our faces. As we are re entering the base, we jog back to the barracks and change into our lounge clothes then are herded towards the mess hall. All one hundred and twenty of us line up and wait to get our “ food “ as I reach the counter a lady hands me a burnt piece of toast. I bit into the burnet coles from a long dead fire, I choke and recover. She says “ is it good” I say “ just fine “. The haze of the rainforests humidity coming off of the boiling spaghetti blinds us from what horrible sight that lies behind the counter. Its been about three months of this same repetition with the occasional target practice, and the hour-long sessions on how to disassemble our guns clean them, then reassemble the parts. As we leave this place all I remember is how to play poker , load, unload, and fire the mounted 50 cals on our tanks. We have about a week to ourselves to interact with visiting family members and write letters before we are shipped off to the war.
I’ve never really known any family members except for my mother and she is long gone now because she past away from lung cancer. The only real family I have is Joseph, and a few other buddies back at the mill. My mind then switches to a young brunette who is sitting about three tables down from Me ,Tyreese ,Joseph, and Samuel a young good looking but scrawny fellow. I keep staring into her eyes as she does to mine, hers are blue, I can tell. I then notice Joseph trying the same thing but not having much luck. I get up and head over towards her when Joseph does the same. He barges ahead of me and says hello. She says the same but in a disappointed manner. I nudge him aside, and she with a smile says hello, and I reply “ what’s your name “ she says “Jane” and I say “ Well, do you want to get a bite sometime? “ and before she can answer Tyreese tapps my shoulder and says Samuel’s in fight!. I turn to Jane, “ hold on”, I then run over to the crowd. As I get there, the fight finishes and Samuel lost. I turn back and Jane’s nowhere in sight. The next day we go back to the same spot to find her. Then I spot here curly brown hair over in the bread shop across the street. I run over and say hello and tell her that I’m leaving soon for the war. She says “ well that’s a shame “ I then ask if I can write her and she replys “ of course “, and hands me her address. It’s been about two weeks now, and since we’ve left behind our homes and families we haven't been doing much other than moping around deck and playing a couple hands of poker every once in awhile. After all this time with these guys I've come to like packaged cigarettes mostly because they're the only kind of cigarettes we’ve got. Every once in awhile, I can tell our minds race to even come close to grasping what hell it’s like over there. We also think about winning this hand in poker, and lighting another cigarette. We always like poker, because it passes the time, and gets us a good amount of more cigarettes. With every breath we take, there is a slight amount of cigarette smoke. Our minds wander over every situation possible, from being hit by German torpedoes, or a flight of bombers blowing us all to bits. Our time here at war is uncertain on what events may occur, but we all know we’re are here for the cause and to stay the course. On one sunrise we all look forward and barely glimpse italy and what battle may be taking place. We get our orders, we’re supposed to roll up through the beach into the town and hold our positions on the other side of a bridge to keep the Germans from crossing or blowing it up so we can’t cross into their lines. As our ship approaches the harbor, our nostrils begin to be coated with the ash that fills the air. Our boat hits the shore and our tank begins to roll up into the town. The distant rattle of artillery fire grows closer as we move towards the front. Our convoy stops and all the foot soldiers hop onto the shells of our tanks. As we move closer to the front we see less and less of our soldiers until everything is quiet except for the rattle of our tank tracks. It seems to quiet, suddenly the scream of artillery shells fill the air. the tank ahead explodes and the screaming stops, our convoy comes to a halt. A large bang cries out as our tank is hit. It was only a bazooka. Our tank barrel turns and fires on what seemed to be five Germans. All hell breaks loose and all we hear is gunfire from everywhere we look. I spot about ten germans and cock my 50 cal and hear the bark of the muzzle mow them down by my hands. Suddenly the thunder of German planes fly by and demolish two of our tanks. Our convoy starts moving again and the bridge is almost in sight. As we approach the bridge two German Panzer tanks head for our position one fires and blows up the truck of soldiers next to us to bits, the soldiers once inside are gone too. Our planes swiftly fly by taking out the remaining German tanks and we cross the bridge to hold our positions.
Chapt. 2.
It’s been almost a year now since our landing in Italy. Tyreese and Joseph are still, with me which is good. The remaining 113th has pushed into Germany. It is winter now and the end of the war seems not far away. As I finish my second to last cigarette, our convoy is ordered to move up towards Belgium. Today is our third day in Belgium and there is an increasing number of german attacks on our convoy. We keep heading for the English channel. As we are in the middle of Belgium, our convoy spots a fleet of German planes. We are surrounded by light and the crack of explosions, our tank is hit. Joseph and I open the hatch and step out Tyrese is no where in sight. As my feet hit the gravel a shell lands fifteen feet away and I am knocked down. The darkness of something I can’t control moves over me. My eyes widen and I see Josephs face and two others I don’t recognize. One says “ welcome to Bastogne my friend! “ “ you happy it’s Christmas day? “ I had totally forgot. As I stand up, the two others leave, and I ask Joe what happened.
He says “ you were hit very badly by that shell and you went unconscious for a few days “ Joe had taken me here by a slim chance and I was treated.
I asked about the 113th, he replied “ I know nothing, as I left I could tell it was a massacre, and I have no idea where Tyreese is! “.
I look out the window and the pulsating glimmer of white snow diving into the streets makes its way into the old building. I am escorted out and we walk around town until night falls. The snow every so slightly kisses our shoulders as our team of men walk down the lantern-lit boulevard. The screaming of shells starts up once again as a man runs by and says “ Merry Christmas! “ My mind wonders with the thought of Christmas, and it’s raining shells. I remember the sweet girl I met, and I make a self note to write to her if I’m here when this is all over. I can remember her-candy like blue eyes and my heart jumps at the thought.
I hear someone yell my name as I come out of my daze. The crash of something surrounds me, and I am covered in rubble. My legs fold and I collapse. I can’t see anything but I hear a faint voice as I am pulled back into the chaos once again. We get word of a German advancement of over a hundred men on the north side of town. We run toward the battle with our rifles in hand, as we come closer my mind slows and all I can hear is my heartbeat, and the sound of gunfire cracking in the adjacent street. As we turn the corner, a machine gun barks. Joe goes down, and the two men I had just met collapse, leaving me alone in the middle of the street. I raise my rifle and look at the man who took the lives of three men in the matter of a couple seconds, I can see that he is struggling to reload another clip for me. I give him his time to reload and raise his submachine gun. Crack! the red mist blends into the snow and his knees buckle as he collapses to the snowy pathway. Another man comes around the corner and I hit him in the ribs. Two other run at me from the right side I hit one and the other leaps on top of me with his knife, I hold his fists with one hand and pull my knife out quickly penetrating his throat. I roll him over and I hear the blood sizzling sound of a rifle over my head. I look up and with large nasty grin stands, a German. I close my eyes and my ears fill with the crack of a rifle. I look up and the German with a horrific look, collapses. I stand up quickly To view a man hiding behind the corner. He yells “ you alright?“ and I yell back “ I think so! “ I can recognize his voice. As he steps out of hiding, his face becomes familiar and I can tell it is Tyreese. I then run over to Joe, and kneel beside him. Before I can say anything, with a crackle in his voice he says “ will you for Godsake roll me a cigarette! “. As the sun rises through the snow-filled sky, a truck drives by and stops at the post office unloading letters. I get the butterflies because I want to see what's waiting for me. After about an hour of waiting, my name was called, and I run over to grab my letter. I glance at the name, and it read “Jane Ruth Heartwrite”. My stomach turns with happiness, I suddenly see Joe. He turns to me with an excited grin, I ask “ what is it? your mother? “ he replies “it’s actually one of Jane's friends”. I laugh and open my letter and begin to read what she has to say.
By Reed Frey
Introduction
Hello my name is Reed Frey, and for this project we wrote about a major event either during WW1 or WW2 and wrote about a character of our choice during this event. My story is about a lumberjack named James Backer who lived in Washington state and was drafted into WW2 as a tank gunner. I will be reading to you a scene were James and other draftees are on a bus heading towards a training base. During this scene it transitions from the James on the buses to an action scene in Germany.
The snow ever so slightly kissed our shoulders as our team of men walked through the snow covered stone pathway of the lantern-lit boulevard. The occasional sound of shells being fired upon the town startled the young recruits who straggled in from other battlefields. At every second, the shells got closer until I realized I was covered in rubble, and the sound of my breathing suffocates the chaos of the siege of Bastogne. The remaining sunlight that made it through the tree canopy lands on the heated soil under the July sun. I’ve been working with two other men trying to finish this last load of lumber before it goes to the mill. My arms tense up at every swing I take at the still partly alive log that stands before my feet.
All I want to do is stay out here in the forests of Washington state. As I head back to my cabin I watch all the different trees that walk with me. I leave my axe on a tree near the back of my cabin. As I step onto the porch I notice a glimmer on one of my chairs, I pick it up, Its an empty bullet casing. My mind races to pick out where it came from. I finally find out I put it there from a hunting trip I had just come back from two days earlier. This is the casing that took down my first buck of the season. I put it on my table to get lost in the sea of flyers for the hell that continues over seas. My feet start heading for the backdoor before my mind tells me I forgot my bag of tobacco. I’ve never really liked the taste of already-packaged cigarettes, It’s just nice to roll my own cigarette to feel like I’ve earned it. I didn’t realize I would spend the rest of my afternoon sitting in my chair, smoking cigarettes, and watching the mountain that dives into the valley under my backyard. My eyes began to get heavier and heavier until I gave in and retired to my bedroom.
Next thing I knew, I was drawn awake by a click clack click clack on my porch. I jumped up and opened the door before the little man with wide glasses and big ears could hold his arm up and knock on my door.
I said “ hello” and he responded “ Are you James Backer “.
“ Yes I am”. He handed me an envelope and stepped off the porch towards his truck. I asked what was in the envelope, he said “ The Draft. It's a letter from the government my friend!”. I sat down as he leapt into his truck and drove down the windy dirt road surrounded by an army of pine trees. My heart crept even deeper into my chest, I took one step back and fell back onto my porch steps. I would only have a week to say goodbye to the place I call home and my friends before I am trained and sent into the smoke of chaos and despair.
It is Friday now, and as I step off the steps of my rickety porch I take one last good look at the mountain that lays across the valley under my backyard, this will be the last time that I am surrounded by the life that I have come to love, and the people I’ve come to call friends. My feet guides me toward my bike as my my hand uncaps the gas tank to check the gasoline level. This would be my last joyride down the windy dirt road surrounded by green pine trees that show me the way to town. The slight chill of the breeze that glides through my ragged hair as I swiftly pass the trees that used to walk with me on the journeys home from work. As my bike rolls onto the transition from dirt to pavement as I near the town I knew in that moment I had left behind the life I love for the sake of those in need overseas. My feet head for the registration office, and my palm opens the door. I ask the tubby little man that hides behind the counter where to go, he says to walk over to the fairgrounds where there are four busses waiting to pick up anyone who was drafted from Washington to somewhere along California where we will be trained.
As I reach the busses at the far end of the fairgrounds parking lot, I give the sergeant my green slip and he tells me to “get on the damn bus”. I hop on the second to last “damn bus” and head for one of the middle seats. I can see there are only about six of us on each bus so far. as I come to a seat I see a man hunched over looking for something under his seat.
He suddenly says “ ah ha!” and holds up a good looking watch that he apparently dropped.
His eyes turn to me and his grin gets even wider he then says “ Damn James they got you too haha sit right here!”
It was Joseph, one of my lumberjack buddies. As I sit down it seems like fifteen minutes before the buses start up and roll out of the parking lot. A part of me is happy because I have Joseph with me but my heart sinks as we past the last stop sign, and we start our journey to each little town on our way to either death or despair the rest of our lives. We stop at continuous towns picking up more and more draftees.
We stop at very small sad looking town,and pick up twenty more men as we leave, we can still hear the sound of loved ones crying goodbye with what hope they have left. Its about ten P.M., and the busses are quite full but not much chatter or even a slight sound. It may be because no one knows each other here or the fact that its almost eleven P.M. might be the case. As the night rolls on with us the skin of my eyelids grew heavier as if they are being filled with a small amount of pebbles. Now I'm looking stupid because my head keeps bobbing up and down as I doze off and come back to reality again. I finally give in to the fact that sleep is upon me. My hands shiver with what warmth I have left as our bodies are chilled by the damp blizzard that has fallen upon the small town. My ears tremble with the sound of tracks moving closer and closer until we only see a large muzzle through the white sheet of snow. A quick light flashes and the building next us crashes onto our position. The damp snow seeps through our ragged jackets and onto our cold skin. My ear rings with sound of an artillery shell that hit the tank disabling its movement. The metal top door opens with a creaking sound. Out comes a German who runs off but decides to turn around and kneels down like he was surrendering. Our ears fill with a crack that came from the bell tower, a red mist spreads around the mans chest and he collapses to the damp snow. We are overwhelmed with the sound of gunfire from the tree line, and out come at least fifteen Germans, Samuel’s hit, Bridges is hit, James is hit. We fire back with the bark of our fifty-cal and the German soldiers go down one after the other. four of them then turn around and run back into the forest. We then find out later, eight of us were killed in the matter of seconds. Our convoy of buses reach the outskirts of Los Angeles. As we enter the city, we get off the freeway and go into the back streets to avoid traffic. We then end up some how getting out of the maze that the city holds and now we are on our way to the 113th tank regime training base fifteen miles away. As we reach the base in our minds we know training is only a small part of our time at war. Our sergeant steps off the bus and hands us over to our drill sergeants. As we stand at “ attention” our sergeants call out names, and separate us into six groups of twenty and we are then assigned our barracks.
Our drill sergeant tell us to “drop off our shit” and “form a single file line in front of the door”, we are heading for an “ appointment “ as we reach a pale looking building we hear a slight buzzing and as people go in they come out without hair. I am deeply sorrowful about this because I take great pride in my hair which gets a lot of the women. As I come out I can’t stop from rubbing my head. I see Joseph walk over and he says “ You look terrible “ and I reply “ shut up! you do too” we then chuckle a little bit.
He asks what barack number I am in, I say “ I think B12, his is B11”
“ Well I’ll see you around” as he runs off to his barack.
As I enter my barack, I step over to where my bag is and I then put it in the top bunk. A large man comes over to me and says “ Hey that’s my bunk! I called it !“ I replied, “ well my stuff was here so go somewhere else “ he then pushes me and knocks me against the wall, I grab his shirt and lift him off his feet, I say “ move somewhere else! “ he smiles and puts his hand out and says “ No hard feelings “ I say “ It’s allright “ as he sets his stuff on the top bunk next to my now official bunk. Its been a tiring, day mostly because of the driving, but it isn’t lunch yet and all we want to do is sleep.
A small group of five guys gather around a deck of cards as me and my new friend Tyreese try to get some rest. The group gets louder and louder until Tyreese yells at “them to shut the hell up”. A man from the group not knowing how large Tyreese is says “ How bout you move somewhere else “ Tyreese stands up and looks him dead in the eye as a drip of fear mixed with salt in a sweat droplet falls from his cheek he then says sorry and sits down and says “ shhhhh “ to the rest of the group. Tyreese walks back as I chucked and say “ scared the shit out of them! “ he laughs and lays back down. It seems to be about five minutes before the sergeant barges in and says “ get up maggots time for suffering! “ we then march out into the courtyard where there are two other groups of twenty men. A man says “ down in push up position! “ “ hold it! “ it feels like a half an hour goes by of holding this position. He says “ alright down up down up “ and we go at it for about an hour until we stand up. He then says “ you boys ready for some runnin? “ our hope shrinks and our smiles are at that moment wiped off our faces. As we are re entering the base, we jog back to the barracks and change into our lounge clothes then are herded towards the mess hall. All one hundred and twenty of us line up and wait to get our “ food “ as I reach the counter a lady hands me a burnt piece of toast. I bit into the burnet coles from a long dead fire, I choke and recover. She says “ is it good” I say “ just fine “. The haze of the rainforests humidity coming off of the boiling spaghetti blinds us from what horrible sight that lies behind the counter. Its been about three months of this same repetition with the occasional target practice, and the hour-long sessions on how to disassemble our guns clean them, then reassemble the parts. As we leave this place all I remember is how to play poker , load, unload, and fire the mounted 50 cals on our tanks. We have about a week to ourselves to interact with visiting family members and write letters before we are shipped off to the war.
I’ve never really known any family members except for my mother and she is long gone now because she past away from lung cancer. The only real family I have is Joseph, and a few other buddies back at the mill. My mind then switches to a young brunette who is sitting about three tables down from Me ,Tyreese ,Joseph, and Samuel a young good looking but scrawny fellow. I keep staring into her eyes as she does to mine, hers are blue, I can tell. I then notice Joseph trying the same thing but not having much luck. I get up and head over towards her when Joseph does the same. He barges ahead of me and says hello. She says the same but in a disappointed manner. I nudge him aside, and she with a smile says hello, and I reply “ what’s your name “ she says “Jane” and I say “ Well, do you want to get a bite sometime? “ and before she can answer Tyreese tapps my shoulder and says Samuel’s in fight!. I turn to Jane, “ hold on”, I then run over to the crowd. As I get there, the fight finishes and Samuel lost. I turn back and Jane’s nowhere in sight. The next day we go back to the same spot to find her. Then I spot here curly brown hair over in the bread shop across the street. I run over and say hello and tell her that I’m leaving soon for the war. She says “ well that’s a shame “ I then ask if I can write her and she replys “ of course “, and hands me her address. It’s been about two weeks now, and since we’ve left behind our homes and families we haven't been doing much other than moping around deck and playing a couple hands of poker every once in awhile. After all this time with these guys I've come to like packaged cigarettes mostly because they're the only kind of cigarettes we’ve got. Every once in awhile, I can tell our minds race to even come close to grasping what hell it’s like over there. We also think about winning this hand in poker, and lighting another cigarette. We always like poker, because it passes the time, and gets us a good amount of more cigarettes. With every breath we take, there is a slight amount of cigarette smoke. Our minds wander over every situation possible, from being hit by German torpedoes, or a flight of bombers blowing us all to bits. Our time here at war is uncertain on what events may occur, but we all know we’re are here for the cause and to stay the course. On one sunrise we all look forward and barely glimpse italy and what battle may be taking place. We get our orders, we’re supposed to roll up through the beach into the town and hold our positions on the other side of a bridge to keep the Germans from crossing or blowing it up so we can’t cross into their lines. As our ship approaches the harbor, our nostrils begin to be coated with the ash that fills the air. Our boat hits the shore and our tank begins to roll up into the town. The distant rattle of artillery fire grows closer as we move towards the front. Our convoy stops and all the foot soldiers hop onto the shells of our tanks. As we move closer to the front we see less and less of our soldiers until everything is quiet except for the rattle of our tank tracks. It seems to quiet, suddenly the scream of artillery shells fill the air. the tank ahead explodes and the screaming stops, our convoy comes to a halt. A large bang cries out as our tank is hit. It was only a bazooka. Our tank barrel turns and fires on what seemed to be five Germans. All hell breaks loose and all we hear is gunfire from everywhere we look. I spot about ten germans and cock my 50 cal and hear the bark of the muzzle mow them down by my hands. Suddenly the thunder of German planes fly by and demolish two of our tanks. Our convoy starts moving again and the bridge is almost in sight. As we approach the bridge two German Panzer tanks head for our position one fires and blows up the truck of soldiers next to us to bits, the soldiers once inside are gone too. Our planes swiftly fly by taking out the remaining German tanks and we cross the bridge to hold our positions.
Chapt. 2.
It’s been almost a year now since our landing in Italy. Tyreese and Joseph are still, with me which is good. The remaining 113th has pushed into Germany. It is winter now and the end of the war seems not far away. As I finish my second to last cigarette, our convoy is ordered to move up towards Belgium. Today is our third day in Belgium and there is an increasing number of german attacks on our convoy. We keep heading for the English channel. As we are in the middle of Belgium, our convoy spots a fleet of German planes. We are surrounded by light and the crack of explosions, our tank is hit. Joseph and I open the hatch and step out Tyrese is no where in sight. As my feet hit the gravel a shell lands fifteen feet away and I am knocked down. The darkness of something I can’t control moves over me. My eyes widen and I see Josephs face and two others I don’t recognize. One says “ welcome to Bastogne my friend! “ “ you happy it’s Christmas day? “ I had totally forgot. As I stand up, the two others leave, and I ask Joe what happened.
He says “ you were hit very badly by that shell and you went unconscious for a few days “ Joe had taken me here by a slim chance and I was treated.
I asked about the 113th, he replied “ I know nothing, as I left I could tell it was a massacre, and I have no idea where Tyreese is! “.
I look out the window and the pulsating glimmer of white snow diving into the streets makes its way into the old building. I am escorted out and we walk around town until night falls. The snow every so slightly kisses our shoulders as our team of men walk down the lantern-lit boulevard. The screaming of shells starts up once again as a man runs by and says “ Merry Christmas! “ My mind wonders with the thought of Christmas, and it’s raining shells. I remember the sweet girl I met, and I make a self note to write to her if I’m here when this is all over. I can remember her-candy like blue eyes and my heart jumps at the thought.
I hear someone yell my name as I come out of my daze. The crash of something surrounds me, and I am covered in rubble. My legs fold and I collapse. I can’t see anything but I hear a faint voice as I am pulled back into the chaos once again. We get word of a German advancement of over a hundred men on the north side of town. We run toward the battle with our rifles in hand, as we come closer my mind slows and all I can hear is my heartbeat, and the sound of gunfire cracking in the adjacent street. As we turn the corner, a machine gun barks. Joe goes down, and the two men I had just met collapse, leaving me alone in the middle of the street. I raise my rifle and look at the man who took the lives of three men in the matter of a couple seconds, I can see that he is struggling to reload another clip for me. I give him his time to reload and raise his submachine gun. Crack! the red mist blends into the snow and his knees buckle as he collapses to the snowy pathway. Another man comes around the corner and I hit him in the ribs. Two other run at me from the right side I hit one and the other leaps on top of me with his knife, I hold his fists with one hand and pull my knife out quickly penetrating his throat. I roll him over and I hear the blood sizzling sound of a rifle over my head. I look up and with large nasty grin stands, a German. I close my eyes and my ears fill with the crack of a rifle. I look up and the German with a horrific look, collapses. I stand up quickly To view a man hiding behind the corner. He yells “ you alright?“ and I yell back “ I think so! “ I can recognize his voice. As he steps out of hiding, his face becomes familiar and I can tell it is Tyreese. I then run over to Joe, and kneel beside him. Before I can say anything, with a crackle in his voice he says “ will you for Godsake roll me a cigarette! “. As the sun rises through the snow-filled sky, a truck drives by and stops at the post office unloading letters. I get the butterflies because I want to see what's waiting for me. After about an hour of waiting, my name was called, and I run over to grab my letter. I glance at the name, and it read “Jane Ruth Heartwrite”. My stomach turns with happiness, I suddenly see Joe. He turns to me with an excited grin, I ask “ what is it? your mother? “ he replies “it’s actually one of Jane's friends”. I laugh and open my letter and begin to read what she has to say.
Reed Frey
9/10/14
Seminar Questions
Slaughterhouse Five Seminar
The passage that best expresses the truth about war is when Paul is talking to the dead Frenchman in chapter eight. He says “I thought of your hand grenades, your bayonet, and your rifle, now I see your wife and your face and our fellowship. Forgive me, comrade. We always see it too late. Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mother are as anxious as ours, and that we have the same fear of death, the same dying the same agony-Forgive me comrade; how could you be the enemy?” I chose this passage because it basically explains that each side is not fighting a far off mysterious bad creature, but they are fighting people just like themselves and their comrades. Each side has the same death and pain as the other, they all have anxious mothers waiting for some news of their sons. This also best expresses the truth of war because Paul comes to realize that he is not much different from the man he just killed, it could’ve been Paul and it wouldn’t have made much difference. He also realizes that he doesn’t know why everyone fighting is there and that this war is just some large complicated twisted creature.
When Paul goes on leave and reacts so negatively being home, and says “I ought never to come on leave.” Because he can’t relate to anyone. Everyone is asking about the war and Paul just doesn’t want to talk about it, he would rather be at the font with his comrades than being caught up with such a strange world he used to know. Also when he heard that car go by he jumped and I just think some sounds scare him but he’s not in real battle. When he is on leave he can’t really do much because he has been at the front from the start of when normally at that age you start to have self-reliance but, Paul’s first occupation was killing and fighting for Germany.
9/10/14
Seminar Questions
Slaughterhouse Five Seminar
The passage that best expresses the truth about war is when Paul is talking to the dead Frenchman in chapter eight. He says “I thought of your hand grenades, your bayonet, and your rifle, now I see your wife and your face and our fellowship. Forgive me, comrade. We always see it too late. Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mother are as anxious as ours, and that we have the same fear of death, the same dying the same agony-Forgive me comrade; how could you be the enemy?” I chose this passage because it basically explains that each side is not fighting a far off mysterious bad creature, but they are fighting people just like themselves and their comrades. Each side has the same death and pain as the other, they all have anxious mothers waiting for some news of their sons. This also best expresses the truth of war because Paul comes to realize that he is not much different from the man he just killed, it could’ve been Paul and it wouldn’t have made much difference. He also realizes that he doesn’t know why everyone fighting is there and that this war is just some large complicated twisted creature.
When Paul goes on leave and reacts so negatively being home, and says “I ought never to come on leave.” Because he can’t relate to anyone. Everyone is asking about the war and Paul just doesn’t want to talk about it, he would rather be at the font with his comrades than being caught up with such a strange world he used to know. Also when he heard that car go by he jumped and I just think some sounds scare him but he’s not in real battle. When he is on leave he can’t really do much because he has been at the front from the start of when normally at that age you start to have self-reliance but, Paul’s first occupation was killing and fighting for Germany.
Seminar Reflection
All Quiet on the Western Front seminar
During the seminar Brenden said that by reading this book he didn’t get really an understanding of what WW1 was like and what the soldiers were faced with. I think what Brenden was trying to say was that by reading this book he didn’t really find himself connected to the characters and their problems/thoughts. I also think he said this because he couldn’t get even a close grasp of what it was like to be there and to see what horrors there were. When he said this I felt that I was a little surprised because I think this book was written in a way that you kind of fall into the Characters thoughts and feelings. I felt this way with this book because when you read along you were with the character and his thoughts the whole way.
When Paul goes on leave and acts so negatively to being back from the front. I feel that Paul acted this way because right when he got off the train that woman was trying to sell Paul something and she said to Paul come on comrade, and Paul then felt that no one back home understands the fighting going on at the front. When Paul got back home everyone also wanted to ask him and talk about the war and Paul didn’t want to talk about what is happening out there. When Paul is back he can’t stop thinking about the war and he relates almost everything to the war. He also feels that nothing is real back home and everyone there doesn’t know the dark secrets of war and life, and they just go about their daily business.
During reading this novel I had a connection to my grandpa’s war experience in the North Korean war. He had been camped out in a valley for two days with his platoon. On the third day North Koreans started shooting at him and his platoon and his platoon was shot down. He was shot six times in his stomach and was later found by his family in a mash unit in his hometown. This connection reminds me of the horrors of war and suffering that I have read while reading “All Quiet on the Western Front”. This connection has been important to me because I can tell when I see my Grandpa that there is stuff inside him that should’ve stayed in Korea.
Reading this novel has changed my perspective on the war. My perspective has changed because the book was told from the bad side of, and it just made me realize how similar each side was to each other. Each side knew the same fear of death, pain, and agony, each side didn’t really have an essential reason to fight and be in the war. Since the story was told by a German soldier even know they were the enemy I had to feel sad for Paul and his friends, because they were just another person they weren’t essentially bad they were just there fighting for what they were commanded to do. There really wasn’t a reason for this soldiers to be there a drive them to fight, when Paul says this “ We always see it too late. Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mothers are just as anxious as us, and that we have the same fear of death, and the same dying and the same agony-Forgive me comrade; how could you be the enemy?” I think he was realizing that this war was really twisted and dark, and there was really no internal reason for him and his comrades to fight.
All Quiet on the Western Front seminar
During the seminar Brenden said that by reading this book he didn’t get really an understanding of what WW1 was like and what the soldiers were faced with. I think what Brenden was trying to say was that by reading this book he didn’t really find himself connected to the characters and their problems/thoughts. I also think he said this because he couldn’t get even a close grasp of what it was like to be there and to see what horrors there were. When he said this I felt that I was a little surprised because I think this book was written in a way that you kind of fall into the Characters thoughts and feelings. I felt this way with this book because when you read along you were with the character and his thoughts the whole way.
When Paul goes on leave and acts so negatively to being back from the front. I feel that Paul acted this way because right when he got off the train that woman was trying to sell Paul something and she said to Paul come on comrade, and Paul then felt that no one back home understands the fighting going on at the front. When Paul got back home everyone also wanted to ask him and talk about the war and Paul didn’t want to talk about what is happening out there. When Paul is back he can’t stop thinking about the war and he relates almost everything to the war. He also feels that nothing is real back home and everyone there doesn’t know the dark secrets of war and life, and they just go about their daily business.
During reading this novel I had a connection to my grandpa’s war experience in the North Korean war. He had been camped out in a valley for two days with his platoon. On the third day North Koreans started shooting at him and his platoon and his platoon was shot down. He was shot six times in his stomach and was later found by his family in a mash unit in his hometown. This connection reminds me of the horrors of war and suffering that I have read while reading “All Quiet on the Western Front”. This connection has been important to me because I can tell when I see my Grandpa that there is stuff inside him that should’ve stayed in Korea.
Reading this novel has changed my perspective on the war. My perspective has changed because the book was told from the bad side of, and it just made me realize how similar each side was to each other. Each side knew the same fear of death, pain, and agony, each side didn’t really have an essential reason to fight and be in the war. Since the story was told by a German soldier even know they were the enemy I had to feel sad for Paul and his friends, because they were just another person they weren’t essentially bad they were just there fighting for what they were commanded to do. There really wasn’t a reason for this soldiers to be there a drive them to fight, when Paul says this “ We always see it too late. Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mothers are just as anxious as us, and that we have the same fear of death, and the same dying and the same agony-Forgive me comrade; how could you be the enemy?” I think he was realizing that this war was really twisted and dark, and there was really no internal reason for him and his comrades to fight.