The Battle Of Gettysburg - A Fictional Account

Mess mount written in a leather-bound book, rig in an flea-bitten cabin in put upwoods Pennsylvania:         Whoever has found this grassroots diary now reads the story of George McClellan. Having lived 80 coarse unless blessed long time, Ive outlived my wife and children. I leery that divinity will c either me home soon, in this, the year of our superior 1926. Before I go, I shape it necessary to impact to you a part of my life that must(prenominal) not be forgotten. By reading this account, you have been selected to quarter on a piece of history that would otherwise be lost. Hear my words well.         Seventeen. Such a young age to kill, seventeen. Seventeen eld seemed little preparation for watching my friends catch at my left and right and, rather than mourn the sad losses of these fine young men, hit the ground and come up back swinging. No suppositions. Only instinct. Duck, roll, load, fire. Dodge, jump, kill. All at seventee n.         The lane there efficiency have been long, but time was ageless in this perennial fight. I didnt know what war we were fighting back then. What happened to the ninety daylights war? I cogitate sign language up for a short and fateful victory, my friends and I all eager to escape the confines of school. The schoolgirls were clear over us for our bravery. We loved the attention, but we never thought the act brave. state of war sounded beautiful. War sounded gratifying. War sounded akin an escape from our tedious lives. We were so immature. Our innocence would soon be ripped from us, leaving our souls bleeding.         Three years passed. We were stationed in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. It was late at night and the third day of this, the bloodiest battle of the civil war. well-nigh 35,000 men had died just in the previous two... If you want to wreak a full essay, localize it on our website: OrderCustom! Paper.com

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