lucky man

November 1, 2009
By brechtj2/3 BRONZE, Jeannette, Pennsylvania
brechtj2/3 BRONZE, Jeannette, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 5 comments

It started as a normal day in camp delta. We were the closest to the front lines. When we did see some action we lost many men. Luckily, I have only been hit with one bullet the entire time I have been here. I remember it like it was yesterday. We started in the mess hall…

“How long have you been here?” I said to my lieutenant.
“I’ve been here about 2 years.” He replied.
“Wow. How many times have you been hit?” I asked in a fascinated voice.
“Ten times. One just recently in the shoulder.” He said in a quivering voice. Right after he said that the alarm sounded. The mess hall completely cleared out. We had to assemble in our platoons. I was in platoon one. We were always the first to go into battle. My lieutenant was marching on the out side of the platoon. He was the highest-ranking officer in our platoon. Most of us were new recruits. All we had to know was how to fire a Tommy gun. The best of us were in the back of the platoon for protection. I was in the third out of five rows. We marched through the network of trenches on the front line. Our leader had put a permanent group in the trenches. When we got there all we could hear was the loud cracks of German rifles. We had sent down a scouting squad to make sure no German soldiers had infiltrated the trenches.
After about an hour they returned, saying that the Germans had gotten three troops into the trenches. They had they had looted the dead troops of ammo and guns. The few surviving troops were sent back to camp delta as heroes. So we were left with covering their positions. We were standing nearly exposed to German fire. The one German that nailed a hit on me died a few miniscule seconds later by my lieutenant’s pistol. They had dragged me back to the medical facility about forty yards back from the hot zone. The doctor examined the small lead projectile lodged in my chest. He had to pull it out right there or I would die of blood loss. He took his claw like clamps and tried to pull the projectile out. When it came out the doc said “another inch and you wouldn’t be here” then he heated a knife to caughterize the wound to fight infection. Then he bandaged it up and I was back in the front lines. After we lost about half our men we called for back up. We retreated as the second platoon took command.
And that is the story of how I got a bullet to the chest.

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