War- a personal response (descriptive)

The soldier lies amidst the wreckage, his faint heartbeat ebbing away, with his two comrades racing frantically to save his life. Blood flows freely from his battered, worn face, like an old mask that has been worn for far too long. He feels the familiar weight of the ammunition resting upon his chest, and the rifle lying by his side. One comrade is bent down with despair, mourning the soon-to-be loss.

How many more will suffer his fate, never to see the light of day or feel the warmth of his family again, to die on a battlefield of death and despair, when they can pass away peacefully on their deathbed, surrounded by the love of family, surrendering their lives to the so-called noble cause of war? How many more families, Vietnamese or American, who suffer the heart-wrenching pang that comes with the loss of a family member? How many more times must the bloodstained blade of war fall again and again to severe threads of lives, and along with them, love? Compared to the care and warmth of friends and family, war seems puny, insignificant, and immature. Why kill each other when we can live happy lives in harmony? For our own reasons that we deem "right"? Are there truly weapons of mass destruction, or do we seek to seize oil supplies for our own good? Why impose idealogies on others and reinforce them with violence? Are we so immature, so dependent on the opinions of others, that we cannot stand others taking another path, not doing things "our way"? Yet, in spite of all this, war is being fed like a furnace being stoked, and one day, as H.G. Wells once said, if we do not end wars, wars will end us. There is only one fuel, one fuel for the fires of war that ignites the sparks of hate and rage. Us. Our volition. The choice whether to ignite the fires of war or to extinguish them lies within us.

War- A personal response (Narrative)

The world faded in and out of focus. The soldier's consciousness teetered on the edge of the void, yet somehow managed to grip on. His unfocused gaze slid past the wreckage which once was the Viet Kong headquarters building, to the rifle lying on his limp hand, and focused on the pair of bright green eyes, which were filled with such intense emotion that the soldier was momentarily jolted to alertness. He tried to sit up, but a nerve-wracking pain surged through his abdomen, and he gave a hoarse cry of agony. All around him, the ground was littered with bloody corpses, some twisted and some scorched, as though a monstrosity of some kind had passed by and carelessly scattered corpses like ashes over the battlefield. In his half-conscious state, the soldier heard voices, voices that were filled with emotion that threatened to overwhelm him with crushing pressure.

"The explosion... Viet Kong escaped... secret tunnel"

"Splinter...punctured vital organs...not...live"

"Johnson...Johnson..."

The voice called to him, filled with emotion, and it took all his willpower to resist the pull of the void. The voice, the voice of his friend, whom he had fought side by side with, whom he had promised he would live through the war. Then he thought of his family and his children, whom he would never see again. To think he would die on this battlefield of death and despair, instead of on his deathbed, living with his wife and children to a ripe old age. He looked around the battlefield for one last time. How many more were there like him, he thought. How many who would not live to see the light of day or feel the warmth of family? He gazed, once more, into those green eyes, from which tears now freely flowed, and mouthed his friend's name, as his parched throat could not voice a word. Then he drew his thoughts and feelings around him like a shroud, and , with one last smile, with an explosion of emotions, let go of his life.

Fried egg and ham sandwich

You will need 8 slices of white bread, 0.125 kg of cheddar cheese , 0.25 kg of sliced pre-cooked ham, 4 eggs, 0.028kg of butter. Butter both sides of each slice of bread with 2 tablespoons of butter.


Heat the remaining butter in a pan and crack each egg into the pan about 5 cm away from each other after the butter has melted. Season the eggs to your taste with salt and pepper and pan-fry them for 2 to 3 minutes till the yolk is runny and the white is firm. Meanwhile, get down to constructing the sandwich by spreading the melted butter over the bread and dividing the cheese among four slices of bread. Divide the ham into four portions and place them on top of the cheese, followed by the four fried eggs. Place a piece of bread over each of the four "stacks" to complete the sandwich. Pan-fry the sandwiches on both sides until they turn golden-brown. Serves 4 (a sandwich for each person). To be served warm.


http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/fried-egg-and-ham-sandwich-recipe/index.html