Oliver Eig.              The Last Day Of The Life Of Terrance Brimble                                  11/15/16              

Humanities                                                                                                                            GSS7B

I wake up in my tent, hearing the far off bass tones of the front line. The heavy dead weight of Gideon, Henry, Joshua, and William pressing against me. I get up immediately as I awoke to escape the horrific stench of body odor. I brush open the “door” of the canvas tent and become blinded by the magnificent, scorching, Virginian sun. I pick up my discarded musket from the long day of yesterday’s fighting. I see Lieutenant Taylor stride towards me.

“Private Brimble, find your squad on the front line and work the howitzer,” He commands.

“Yes, sir,” I respond.

I march over to my horse, Daisy, and climb onto her back. I grab the reins and give her a sharp kick to the side.

“Huzzah!” I cheer. Then we are off, bounding through the woods, and onto the field. Shortly, I can see the beat up sandbags and the bloody frisian horse defense mechanism of the front line. I reach a small campfire surrounded by other tents. I immediately see Frank, Douglas, and Tristan, the members of my squad.

“Gentlemen, Lieutenant Taylor wants us to go work the howitzer,” I call.

“Got it, we will meet you there in five minutes.” Frank responds for the group. I nod towards them in understanding, and gallop the rest of the way to hell.

Finally, I reach the front line and hear the terrorizing boom of artillery. I dismount Daisy and give her an apple for her service. By now my squad must surely be on their way. I jog over to one of the howitzers nearby, shoving my fingers in my ears desperately trying to shield my delicate eardrums from the force of the exploding gunpowder of artillery. I lift open the lid of a whining ammunition box and pick up one of the heavy artillery pieces.

“Here-let me help you with that,” Douglas spits out, nervous with anticipation.

“Thank you,” I respond, as he puts his hand underneath the huge bullet and shoves it into the howitzer with me. Tristan then locks the ammunition into place in the howitzer, while Frank holds his firing torch at the ready. All of a sudden, a trumpet sounds, and Frank drops the torch onto the ammunition, sending it high into the heavens, and down onto the enemy line. I hear the faint screams of pain in the distance. I back away from all of the chaos to collect my thoughts. Then a British howitzer shell breaks right on top of our howitzer, sending hot pieces of metal into our squads necks, including mine. I am sent sprawling from the blast, the life draining from my body. I touch my spasming hand to my neck, and look at it. It is covered in a deep crimson red. I relax my neck, close my eyes, take my last breath, and fall into an eternal sleep, knowing of the service that I had provided to my country.

Milei

2016

                               War through a musician’s eyes

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I am a soldier in the middle of battle in the large terrain filled with rampaging soldiers. I can hear canons from afar and see them crashing one after another. The weather is cloudy and dreary and the trees around us are large and tall. Some soldiers are weak and are probably ready to die soon but most soldiers are behind big mounds of dirt protecting themselves from their enemies. Large, strong horses retreat away from the dreadful scene. It is now 1779, three years since the war has started. I always feel like this will be a never ending war but a little bit of me also knows that someday this war will end. I wonder everyday who’s going to win and if I will even be alive by the time the war’s over. All around the battlefield you can smell the scent of gunpowder and burning fire. It always takes awhile to get used to that scent. In the camps it’s a totally different space. The smell stays the same though since soldiers practice or test out their weapons. Within the camps every soldier is also always hungry. We each don’t get that much food but the whole army has stocks of food. The reason why we get low portions of food is because the army want’s to save up all of the food for who knows how long. Fatigue duty was something every soldier had. Fatigue duty is when a soldier has to do certain chores around the camp like building shelter, cleaning the camp grounds, gathering hay and much more other things that had to do with keeping the entire camp clean. Even though the camps are clean the soldiers are not. We don’t bathe a lot so soldiers are not hygienically clean.

I am part of the middling class and I am also part of the militia. I don’t really fight that often because I serve as a musician in the army so during battle I always have my drum with me so I can represent my company. I also a carry around a fife with me in my pocket but that is an essential to every soldier. The fife is like a flute but smaller so it is very light. Being a musician in the army is a lot of work. I support everyone and everything in the army everyday so being a musician keeps me very occupied. I don’t only play music though because I also have to do my drills and daily jobs. Most of my time though is taken by practicing my drum. People in the army see me as their supporter. It feels like they rely on me and focus on the rhythm I’m making.

When we march we usually have everything planned out already. It is also a long expedition of walking and we don’t have a lot of food brought with us so it is also a pretty gloomy trip. All the food we get is some stale bread and flour and we are so hungry to the point where that can even taste acceptable. The wagons are loud and big and they are heavy and look like they are ready to explode. We fill the wagons up with our weapons and tools.

• When being the musician, I feel like everyone’s eyes are on me all the time, waiting for the signal. Being In the middle of the battlefield and all I have is my drum with me and weapon at my side. I wouldn’t say all the other soldiers thing I’m their leader but their supporter. The gruesome scene of war that we see everyday yet I always stand to the side playing the same beat over and over again. And that’s my life as a soldier.