War Is...

War is needed, protecting our rights.
War is hell, scarring hearts and minds.
War is death, losing lives and friends.
War is honor, fighting to write our names in stone.
War is money, circling around armaments and soldiers.
War is strength, trusting the people you fight with.
War is pain, lasting wounds that do not go away.
War is hard, causing many to become shells of what they once were.
War is cold, caring not about who fights or gets hurt.
War is change, ending lives and nations.

Remembering 9/11

     I cannot really remember what happened on September 11, 2001. I was only 6. What I can guess though, is that I stayed home from school, and was celebrating my birthday, when my parents saw on the news that the attacks had happened on the World Trade Center. I was probably not told exactly what happened, just bits and pieces to keep my curious mind at bay. Later, now that I know what happened, I remember it as an attack on the United States of America, and I know that I will not forget it.

Unknown Soldier

Show me what it's like

to dream in black and white

So I can leave this world tonight

A soldier, fighting for his country, knows he is never alone, for he has brothers fighting with him.

Shown from the eyes of a soldier, who has started to lose all emotion, just fighting mindlessly, and he gets wounded. He is sitting there writing  this song from the hospital bed, wanting to die.

This song connects with me deeply, I know one day I will be fighting also, and he is just feeling like he let his people down, just another uniform. But he doesn’t seem to know that he has others that care about him, who don’t want him to die even if he feels differently.

I’ve had the dream of being a soldier for 8 years, and I’ve had people tell me I will never make it, and I’ve had people that say if I try hard enough, I can. And I am sure that one day I will be on the front lines.

Ive had that feeling that I was alone, that no one cared, but lately I’ve found people that do, and I have the motivation to be able to pursue my dreams.

Humanity

LIFE

Love as much as you can
It will set you free
For the people around you feel the same
Even if you think you are alone

Not Alone:

I group with the others
Singing the songs together
And I now have hope

Afterlife

What happens to a soul?

Does it fly away
like a baloon?
Or drift solemnly
like a wandering boat
Or group together
like a colony of ants?
Maybe it just stays there
like a moss-covered rock

Or does it just disappear?

*Censored* Need to tell *Censored* *Censored*

    Government censorship is a problem. Not only does it keep us from knowing what is going on in our military now but it also makes our military personnel feel under appreciated. I have personal experience, not from censorship but just a feeling of being under appreciated. I am in Civil Air Patrol, an Air Force auxiliary, and almost no one knows what Civil Air Patrol is! Anyway, family members and friends of military personnel should pay attention to this especially, as it affects you also. During Vietnam especially there was a lot of censorship on military news, most of what came in through the newspapers were lies for propaganda purposes, in order to keep the civilians happy back in the United States, where it didn’t work since it was still high in protests. It goes against our right for freedom of information, blocking the information from us and keeping us from knowing anything. Also, keeps citizens from joining the military, as they don’t know what they are getting into and are afraid.
    We should combat this, fight censorship as we do have a right to know this information, pepole say censorship is fine, it keeps our enemies from knowing our tactics and other things, but that is fine. We aren’t just splaying it out on the internet for everyone to see, just keeping our citizens informed, and that would help keep our military personnel happy. Everyone should join this fight, protest against military censorship, we have a right to know.

The Untold War Story

My name is Make Massey. I am a Private in the U.S. Coast Guard. Today I’m getting shipped to a German town with some Navy soldiers. Our orders were to invade the town and then hold it off from enemy reinforcements until the armored division gets there.

Earlier today I met someone who is perhaps the only respectable guy in the whole Navy, William Richardson. He’s a short and stocky guy with a short temper, but he’s brave and real funny. He’s about as new as I am, but he’s a Private First Class.
I was just told that we are about to arrive. I can hear the sound of small arms fire, mixed in with the heavy booming of tank cannons. I pull on my pack, and already the weight is digging into my shoulders. I put a fresh magazine into my M16 and load a fresh round. I place my hand on my pistol holster, making sure it’s not loose.
We hit the shore and I can hear my C.O. yelling at us to “Move, move, move!”. I see the men jumping into the water and follow them. I hit hard and water rushes into my nose and mouth. Coughing and spluttering, I rush towards land.
When I look up I notice two things. One, Germany is beautiful. Rolling hills in the distance, surrounded by green trees as we run up. The sky is a clear blue, brighter than the ocean and there is not a cloud in sight. Two, we are severely outnumbered. There were Germans in every window and hidden in every alleyway. Muzzle flashes bursting, so many that they look like lights on a Christmas tree. Fear rushes into me but I dismiss it. This is not the time to be afraid, my comrades need me.
A guy next to me gets shot, I can hear his scream as he plunges into the water. All around him the water starts turning pink. Running forward, I lift up my M16 and start spraying bullets, hoping to stop the enemy fire for a second. I jump behind cover, bullets hitting the area. When I go to reload my weapon, I realize that my hand is shaking. I can barely get the clip into the weapon . I take a deep breath to calm myself. My C.O. runs up and looks at me. “Are you OK?” He asks.
“Yeah.” I tell him, and then pull him towards the cover as a spray hits near him.
“Thanks.” He tells me, then lifts up and fires a few rounds. I spot Richardson a few meters away from me, trying to fix a jam in his gun. I yell out to him and he looks at me, I motion for him to come over. He nods and sprints over, holding on to his helmet.
“Hey Richardson, we need to go around and flank them or else we’ll never gain any ground with this frontal attack.” I say, and see as he nods. My C.O. looks at me with something like respect, but it is gone before I can make sure. We throw a ‘Willy Pete’ or white-phosphorus grenade, the one that when the fuse hits the phosphorus it lets out a huge puff of smoke for cover. We wait a few seconds, then run towards the houses on the west side.
Right when I turn around the corner I see a German soldier peek around the side. He looks surprised for a split second and then starts to lift up his gun. I take advantage of the hesitation and pull out my knife, slicing his throat and finishing him off with a bullet from my pistol. Richardson goes first, and I hear him fire a couple bullets.
When I get around the corner, I can tell this was a mistake. We ran into a whole squad of German soldiers, there must’ve been at least 15 of them. Lifting up our guns, we all sprayed at the Germans. By some higher force, we killed them all. Laughing nervously, we wonder how we survived. We move more cautiously, not wanting to make that mistake again.
My C.O. (who’s name I now know is Jameson) finds a busted window and climbs through it, motioning for us to follow. “There’s more cover in a building.” He whispers to us, and starts going room to room. We don’t find any German soldiers, so we take a break for a minute to put fresh clips in our guns and Jameson smokes a cigarette.
Jameson tells us our break is over. He tells Richardson to open the front door so we can go further and get to the back of the main German section. Richardson opens the door and looks around, everything seems clear. He takes one step out the door and a distinctive noise cuts through the normal sound of gunfire. A dog covered in blood and mangy fur runs towards Richardson.
He hesitates, barely lifting up his rifle in time. He only gets off a shot or two before the dog is on top of him and rips out his throat. I hear my C.O. let out a whisper of surprise “Oh...my God. Not again!” I glance at him, Again?.  The dog turns towards us and growls. My C.O. turns and runs away. I barely have time to register this before the dog lunges at me and bites my leg, jerking it out from under me.
While falling, I pull out my special-issued, limited-edition, custom, ivory plated, M1911 pistol but don’t have time to get a shot off before I feel the dog’s jaws rip my life from me. With my last dying seconds, I hear a small demented voice in the back of my head echo,  “Bring his soul back to me.”