The Broken Promise Essay Example

like burnt matchsticks. My heart pulsing with fear, I clutched my rifle tightly while cautiously peering through the wire barricade. It was then that I realized how close the enemy's resistance bases were. With an unobstructed view of the German soldiers who manned the artillery machine guns, it dawned on me that if I could stand up, I had a clear shot at them. To breach their entrenched defenses, my strategy was to hurl a grenade into one of their concrete bases so that our remaining troops could safely advance.

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I retrieved a sand and water soaked standard U.S. grenade from my right trouser pocket while holding a gun in my other hand. Anticipating the detonation clip and feeling jittery, I readied myself on my knees before standing ready to throw. However, in the thick fog and amidst deadly gunfire, I saw a machine gun turret taking aim directly at me. It opened fire and I tried to jump for safety, but to no avail.

As I was hit by a group of bullets on my shoulder, a grenade that did not go off slipped to the ground next to me. I sat down on the sand and noticed my wounded shoulder bleeding, while everything around me faded into darkness and silence. My body was experiencing a painful tingling sensation.

The feeling of being pricked by many hot needles overtook me, leading to a slowing of my heart rate and straining of my eyes. This resulted in a chilling sensation throughout my body and eventual loss of consciousness.

Upon awakening, I was greeted by a shining beam of light.

The blinding rays of light overwhelmed me, rendering my sight useless. Faint and lifeless voices spoke to me, insisting that it wasn't my time to depart and that I still had a purpose to serve. I couldn't discern the owners of these voices, nor could I open my eyes to behold them. As the light and voices receded into the distance, I felt myself plummeting hastily into an unknown abyss. Questions swirled in my head as I plummeted; where would I land? What had just transpired? Abruptly, I forced my eyes open and found myself lying in a bed, gazing through a canvas tent roof. I sat up to examine my new surroundings.

Inside the tent, there were four additional white linen beds that were empty and had trays of medical instruments stained with blood nearby. The beds were separated by curtains, and the one adjacent to mine was concealed by its drapes. It was evident that I was in a military medical encampment. As I attempted to rise from my bed, an intense throbbing sensation shot through my right shoulder.

Looking down, I couldn't believe my eyes. My arm had been hit by a bullet and was missing, as though it had been severed completely. The scene was surreal, especially since I was dressed in my military uniform with sand and blood stains all over me, while the sun's heat penetrated through the tent's canvas roof. I tried to comprehend what had happened - where was I and how did this come to be? There seemed to be no logical explanation other than the possibility that

perhaps I had died but somehow managed to come back to life. Maybe there is still a purpose for me in this world; maybe my journey isn't finished yet.

It was understandable how things were.

Despite my uncertainty about my purpose, I heard voices in my head. Then a tall and lanky doctor with black hair appeared holding a clipboard and greeted me as Captain Bourne. He informed me that I was fortunate to have survived after losing over five pints of blood. My arm had to be amputated to prevent infection. The doctor went on to explain that the remaining infantry troops defeated the German defenses despite the possibility of my passing or falling into a coma. Several days later, medical camps were established on the beachfront to aid surviving soldiers.

He reported that he was found with sand and debris partially covering him, and has been in a coma since receiving treatment. While the amputation of his arm was a significant shock, he expressed gratitude for his survival. Later that day, he heard crying from the adjacent curtain, where a man claimed to be trapped and in need of help. However, the cries turned into anguished screams as he questioned why no one could hear him or know about the person stuck beneath the base. Eventually, the voice deteriorated into uncontrollable sobbing.

I urgently summoned the doctor, who promptly appeared, taken aback by the urgency in my voice. I implored him to aid the distressed individual concealed behind the curtain, who was audibly crying out for assistance. The doctor recoiled somewhat wearily from my request before eventually responding, "Captain, it is simply impossible for you to hear

anyone situated behind that partition."

"Why?" I asked him. "Well... he is..."

He said he will demonstrate and approached the curtain. Afterwards, he exposed the back of a soldier and flipped him over to expose his other side. The response I witnessed in reaction to my inquiry completely terrified me.

The person under observation had suffered serious burns to his face, affecting his ability to speak due to the injuries on his lips and eyelids. The observer informed the doctor of this fact, but was contradicted. As the observer looked into the patient's misty green eyes, a tear rolled down their nose and cheek causing discomfort. Despite being injured, the patient begged for someone referred to as "beneath the base" to still be alive. Even though it didn't appear logical, it was an actual occurrence.

Perhaps the doctor's inability to perceive the man's cries was owing to my newfound ability to read minds after losing my arm. Though it may seem implausible, this was the only rationale I could conceive of. The fact that I had not perished hinted at a mission still awaiting me - namely, using this power to locate the missing individual. Summoning the doctor once more, I divulged all my thoughts and he gazed upon me with pity.

After the captain spoke of hearing things due to the terrible ordeal he faced, I grabbed the doctor's white overcoat while telling him to send a search squad to the bombed resistance site immediately. If he failed to do so, I threatened to make his face look like the man lying in the bed next to me. Hesitantly, I released the doctor and watched as he fled the

tent to alert the search team. As I lay in bed, time seemed to stand still while I waited for news of survivors or more decaying corpses.

My wish was granted after what felt like hours. A doctor, accompanied by two men wearing dirty overalls and holding large oil lamps, burst into the tent. He announced that they had found a survivor - a German private with information about Hitler's whereabouts. Despite suffering from a broken rib and dehydration, the man would survive for interrogation. The two men left the tent, leaving the doctor and me alone. Eventually, he too left to tend to another patient's wounds in a nearby tent.

After taking advantage of the moment, I rose and headed towards the entrance of the tent. When I pulled back the canvas door, I emerged outside and witnessed the sight of a battlefield. Guns and helmets were scattered along the shoreline, while bodies lay undisturbed on the sand.

As the sun set, it painted the land in a golden hue. I closed my eyes and pictured the comforting sight of my wife and children waving from our porch upon returning home. The smell of newly harvested wheat and the soothing warmth of autumn sun on my face brought me a feeling of safety. Finally, I was back at home.