Personal Narrative: The Warsaw Uprising

I started working as an S.S officer sometime in (blank idk dates yet fix later) shortly after turning 18 and being dispatched from the mental hospital. My brothers got me the job, and I suppose I should be grateful, and admittedly to a certain degree, I am. If it wasn’t for them, I would’ve never been so upfront with the cause, I wouldn’t ever have realized how disgusting it really was, and it would’ve never forced to stand up and try to help. I never officially stepped away from the cause until May of 1943, after partaking in the Warsaw Uprising, truly a brave task, attempting to somehow get Warsaw back from German forces. I lead a small team of about 20, consisting of the most experienced, intelligent, knowledgeable people that were able to survive those 63 days of hell. I remember the bombs exploding in the background, while I lay closely against the wall with a gun and a few rounds of ammunition in some apartment building on the 6th floor. The earsplitting calls of the machine gun were answered with distorted shots of different rifles, pistols, and anything we could really have gotten our hands on, we weren’t picky, and definitely not prepared. …show more content…
My finger hastily squeezed the trigger, at some points I didn’t even bother aiming, the heart in my chest beat in such a rhythm that I could have compared it to automatic fire. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, it would not stop. My skin was dry and cracked, especially around my lips, my mouth a desert. I counted the rounds I fired and fell back onto the floor, sliding the gun over to the girl that was huddled against the wall perpendicular to mine, she had a stack of ammo and quickly refilled it with her nimble fingers, they shook at first, struggling to even grasp the gun, but she eventually managed to slide me the refilled