THESE ARE THE SHORT STORIES OF EDWARD W PRITCHARD OF AKRON,OHIO. STORIES ARE ON A VARIETY OF SUBJECTS.
ADBRIGHT
disqualified LATE ENTRY IN kENT sTATE uNIVERSITY pEACE AND wAR cONTEST
AUTHOR IS NOT A STUDENT- SUBMISSION NOT ELIGIBLE FOR HONORABLE MENTION
REPOST OF PREVIOUS WORK
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 12, 2013
I the universal soldier/ draft 2
I the universal soldier/ draft 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
soldier-draft one/ repost, edit
Me a soldier. More than anything I wish to die in battle or like my hero Vincent Van Gogh go crazy. No such luck, I have survived over a dozen fierce battles and engagements. Early on when our blitzkrieg was remarkably successful I would not have been surprised to be unscathed but now the war goes badly and still I thrive as a soldier. I hate what we do but I fight and do my duty not to Fatherland but to my unit. I am not of the party but I fight on although the goals not be mine.
My Father himself will not hear me when I explain the Nazi machine. He is Prussian through and through, still quoting Hegel when he doesn't have a mouthful of platitudes. His wars were brutal yes, but not unspeakable, even to a fellow soldier. I cannot speak to him of ordinary things we do and I cannot think even to myself what I have witnessed. In spite of that my mind is clear; each morning I awake and I prepare for the days actions and encounters. Military life is easy for me though I hate it and hate myself for being part of.
I am as a cog in a machine, one piece in the military system of weapons and technology. I am not permitted to not function at peak capacity. I also cannot allow myself to quit, run or injure or terminate myself. My mind will not fracture or dis-join. My logic is clear and worse my luck is remarkable. Each day I wake and prepare dutifully for today's battles despite my conscious.
I am the universal metaphorical soldier and each day I awake, leave my tent and attack my life with military zeal although I do not understand why we are supposed to fight on anymore.
end
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
soldier-draft one/ repost, edit
Me a soldier. More than anything I wish to die in battle or like my hero Vincent Van Gogh go crazy. No such luck, I have survived over a dozen fierce battles and engagements. Early on when our blitzkrieg was remarkably successful I would not have been surprised to be unscathed but now the war goes badly and still I thrive as a soldier. I hate what we do but I fight and do my duty not to Fatherland but to my unit. I am not of the party but I fight on although the goals not be mine.
My Father himself will not hear me when I explain the Nazi machine. He is Prussian through and through, still quoting Hegel when he doesn't have a mouthful of platitudes. His wars were brutal yes, but not unspeakable, even to a fellow soldier. I cannot speak to him of ordinary things we do and I cannot think even to myself what I have witnessed. In spite of that my mind is clear; each morning I awake and I prepare for the days actions and encounters. Military life is easy for me though I hate it and hate myself for being part of.
I am as a cog in a machine, one piece in the military system of weapons and technology. I am not permitted to not function at peak capacity. I also cannot allow myself to quit, run or injure or terminate myself. My mind will not fracture or dis-join. My logic is clear and worse my luck is remarkable. Each day I wake and prepare dutifully for today's battles despite my conscious.
I am the universal metaphorical soldier and each day I awake, leave my tent and attack my life with military zeal although I do not understand why we are supposed to fight on anymore.
end
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