Personal Narrative: My Return Of A Trench Soldier

The crowds gathered down Chestnut Street to celebrate my return. Well, not specifically mine, but the soldiers that made it home from the “Great War”. It was a pleasant experience against the bloodshed massacre in Europe known as WW1. The trench warfare was filled with death and sickness, but this, the bright clean faces upon the residents of Philadelphia, they were the best thing I’d seen in half a year, ever since I was deployed in in Austria-Hungary. I did noticed a few different things, besides the fact my little brother lost his first tooth and my father grew his beard out, it did seem different. I had to adapt to not eat hastily, which was a challenge seen as how the food was substantially better than the war rations. Everyone treated me different, also, but basically everyone served in the war, so people really all and all …show more content…
Trench foot is like athletes foot, but more intense tenfold. The tops of my feet were bulging, and I constantly had to have custom shoes made for the gashes that ripped through them. Besides the physical fight, I had to experience the mental race with it. I constantly woke up, feeling as if I’m going to die. I’d dream of a battlefield, with my friend left of me. I remembered going over the top, and getting shot at repetitively. Hiding behind a ruined home, just waiting for the gunfire to stop. Then, a german soldier would cut the corner with a bayonet piercing my heart. After that just, poof, I’m in my well-made, comfortable cotton mattress. I wasn’t the only one fighting memories of the war. My friend, Private Mumford, a british solider that decided to take a vacation in the states after the war, experienced schizophrenia, and always talked about the horn that signaled going over the top. The usually could be found in a strait jacket at Eastern State. I’d visit him constantly through the months, and bawl at the sight of him in such a state of