Please meet Caroline.
This essay in particular is weighty, for it comes from a life and heart of experience. Read slowly, stay with it to the end, and be both humbled and encouraged.
Fine, fine writing, with an even stronger message.
Dark. Loud explosions boomed occasionally and a constant high pitched spray of bullets. Inside my head was a constant whirling and confusion. My vision blurred as I looked around at the casualties and wounded. One tangled in barbed wire and bent backward into the trench. His body occasionally shook as the enemy shot again at his exposed legs.
“He is dead!” I yelled out in frustration and anger. “Leave him alone!” I think I yelled it out. Maybe it was all in my head.
I turned. I ran as fast as I could. I began dropping gear. I ran past some other soldiers standing firm at their post. A girl, a young girl of about ten, was bandaged where one arm used to be, but she stood in such confidence. I ran past her.
Another aged man, laying inside the trench with many fresh battle wounds on top of old…
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