Describe it: My narrative involves my military career and focuses on my deployment experience. I will first close my eyes and soak in the senses. I can smell and taste the sand in my mouth, burning hot sand. I also smell gunpowder, oh and the smell of chow always the highlight of my day. I can hear gunshots, incoming, military patrols and men joking. I can feel nervousness, I was always on edge to some degree. I cope with this by pushing it into the back of my mind and letting it filter through with a certain level of hyper alert. Most things I saw were sand, and alot of it. Sand comes in different forms, and the worst sand is wet sand. Mud in Iraq could easily swallow you to your knees.
Compare it: Iraq does not compare easily. Well first comes to mind is you don't choose your clothes, no fancy shirts or jeans, no indecision always my uniform. Sometimes the ladies would wear fancy lace underwear just to feel feminine, personally I did not work a job that allowed something so fancy and too dirty too long of a day. There never really were many choices, something I found crippling in the cereal isle when I returned back to the states. Every day was different, and even though they were long hard and kind of dangerous there was a purpose. That purpose is hard to come by these days, and sometimes I wonder if making choices are as important as we think they are.
Analyze it: my paper is made up mostly chronological: Before I joined, During my training, joining my unit and finalizing with my deployment... maybe. It will touch up on my preconceived notions of the Iraq War, versus my learned notions.
Argue it: I still personally believe we went to Iraq for the wrong reasons, what weapons of mass destruction? Maybe Bush just did not know the middle east very well and meant Iran. Besides that point, I still deployed! Luckily I had a unique chance to speak with many local people in Iraq and learned about the Kurdish plight.
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