A Day At The Battle-Personal Narrative

The leaves swayed back and forth, casting soothing gusts of wind upon me. The blistering sun caked the grass to an umber brown. On top of the barren grass lay multiple dead Confederate bodies. I stood on my four large wheels glancing upon the death that surrounded me. I was covered in my wagon cloth which shielded the sweltering heat off of me. The men lay dead, all in different positions. Blood dripped from their wounds like waterfalls and splotched the arid grass. I hated this scene, but it was all I can look at. It surrounded me… every way I looked, I could see them piled around for their upcoming burial. As a wagon, I have been taken to many places. Lately, all I have been exposed to is horrific war. I used to be stuffed with food and wonderful …show more content…
What’s frightening about all of this is that I know the result. I know the truth about all these men and their fates. As they march through the drained soil, I see their remarkable confidence shine through, but I stare into their faces knowing I would never see them again. But the problem is I do see them again. They lied inert and attracted gnats and flies all around with their miasma that protruded from their lifeless carcasses. And their families? They don’t know about anything that happens to these men. They have to face other cruel issues of starvation and survival without their kin alongside them. This war shredded all these men and families. It separates all parts of society and leaves them in awful conditions which they must deal with. The outcome is pain and suffering. I haven’t seen a healthy person yet and I don’t think i'll ever lay eyes on one. This war changed people, and these differences led to massive consequences. These Confederate soldiers were all piled up in front of me for what was to be a formal burial. These burials mean nothing to the people, absolutely no sympathy simply because that isn’t their