Personal Narrative: All Quiet On The Western Front

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Pages: 4

This was the day, battle day. As I arrived at the front camp, we gathered around, preparing our supplies and loading our guns. I strapped my rifle across my chest, making sure it was accessible for battle. Going into the battle, I was aware of my orders and was prepared for any attack that would strike us. As a soldier, my duty was to protect the German side and to stop the British before they get close enough to penetrate our trenches, and take over our base. Before the battle, I had very little time to gather myself and prepare mentally for the battle, which left me flustered as we hiked to the front trenches. There was a distinct sense of death, that only a soldier could feel and experience. The air had a musty aroma, similar to a graveyard, leaving me quite unsettled. As the rain hit the mud at our feet, it made it much harder to maneuver through the trenches, and obstructed our vision, making it so we couldn’t see much farther than five feet away. …show more content…
As we waited for action, we split into groups, dividing them by skill set, and who was good with what. Some were better at manning the artillery, and some were better at the head to head combat with rifles. I was ordered to use a mix of both the artillery and rifle and to hold off the British as the main objective. I used the trenches as protection from the British, and only peaked one eye out with the tip of my gun so the British would have very little to aim at. When firing the artillery I would expose my head and arms fully, and haul grenades non stop at our enemies. I was lucky not to get hit, as I was quite vulnerable to shell fire. The shells skinned the top of the trenches, downing many of our men in the process. Although I stayed strong, and persevere through the loss of my