- Joined
- Feb 3, 2008
- Messages
- 60
As I keep stating in previous posts, I enjoy illustrating historical events in a fictional atmosphere and preference. This Battle Of Berlin relates to World War 2 and this story relates to the allies making a desperate siege onto Berlin (The Nazi Capital). The allies have just sent the Germans back to Berlin where they make the last stand ending the European conflict. (As you should know, this did not end WW2 as Japan still went bloodlust against China)
I should also state that this story is written from the perspective of an intelligent Soviet solder that is put into positions as a sniper man. He describes the story in his journal. This is very short and simple. I did not put much effort into detailing the story with advanced vocabulary. This should be a logistical way of how people write journal entries.
_________________________________________________________________
April 14, 1945
It is April the 14th of 1945 and I've been incarcerated onto this outpost east of Berlin. My Soviet brothers are to soon assault the perimeters of Berlin and ascend to victory for the "Allied" powers. I find this war pointless, foolish, and complacent. This conflict deters the insanity of human philosophy in the brinks of the Earth itself. Firstly, we were considered pawns of a dark hand enveloped by greed, frenzy, and complacency
I find this war corrupt and fulfilling of the destruction we will bring to this world one day. I've carried the burden of war on my shoulders for too long to intertwine with the formalities of death. Death of which no men deserves in a period such as this only signifies the unhallowed fracture placed upon us as a race.
For once we were mindless, curious. and anxious; but due to such greedy ambitions and addictions, we not plunge forth to a battlefield scarred of godless purity. Purity which brews and conjures the blood of many innocent. We've plagued this world with monstrous devices that I alone find to most unfortunate.
I've done many sinful actions in my youth as private of the Soviet Regime. I've been forced by my "superiors' to slay innocent civilians in a merciless raid onto enemy territory. I'm ashamed that I've been dictated with the abominable tenancies of decadent individuals unworthy of their rank and sire.
To think back at those moments just make me aggravated. For me to now use this rusty sniper to shoot Germans just makes me confused. I feel like I should suicide but I can't. I think that somewhere in this forsaken world, that I will find a future worthy of respect. After this war, I'll be left to ponder the world in freedom. I just hope that tomorrow, I'll have a much more refreshing thing to write about.
April 15, 1945
It's now April 15th of 1945 and apparently, the day has gone more tiresome then expected. I've been rendezvous to a new outpost even closer to Berlin. I saw many stone pillars along the way but they were all ruined and desolated. The architecture was most impressive but in its current condition, I'd rather not think about it too much.
I also see many strange beautiful structures. Bronze, copper, brick, concrete, and wood are what make such majestic structures. I witness more pillars in these homes as well as domes, statues, gardens, and even flags fibered of the most delicate silk. This silk appeased me as I walked by. It gave me a strange sense of the craftsmanship put into it; that a beautiful design could only come from the reagents of excellent Asian silk. I thought I should take it but alas, I had to continue marching with my small unit, consisting of only six men.
One of the men, Peter Dernov, is a great friend to me. I'm glad to at least have some company around me in my troubles. We take seldom moments now recently to avoid communications since I think he had a very troubling issue. He never told me why and I felt like asking, but the urge was too intensive to reject. i don't know what came over me, but I fainted.
Oddly enough after waking up and hearing what happened, I became confused. Peter suddenly came up to me and told me I drank too much. I was again confused but my mind was too dazed to produce accurate thoughts. I never drank in my life and I was an idiot to not respond immediately to his statement. This became the end of our relationship because for some reason, he spat on my shoe and went away. My mind was too linear to simulate thoughts of anger but I knew that he had a grudge to drunk people. I'd best wait tomorrow to continue writing because this day seems too confusing.
April 17, 1945
Two days passed since I've last written hear. For some reason, my general took this journal and hid it for me. I was annoying but I finally recovered it secretly. I just hope he doesn't find out.
We're now supposed to head for Berlin directly for a Soviet assault that should end the European World War. I doubt this but as I'm being driven by this tank, I seem to wonder weather war will ever end. This war has taken weird steps. I haven't stepped in battle and I still find this assault as a very bad idea. I just hope my fright doesn't trigger a catastrophic result for us as I wish this attack would work.
I seem to hear footsteps...... I think it's the general! I'm going to have to continue in other day. I must place it in the original spot..........
April 21, 1945
The general gave my journal back at last. I'm surprised he didn't read it or he would've punished me for sure. Either way, we're now in Berlin. I am on top of a cathedral bell tower ordered to snipe any Germans who show upon visibility. The streets are scattered with corpses and debris. The surrounding city is destroyed; bombed by Allied aircraft several months ago. The sky is ashen and smoke blankets the atmosphere.
It's a pollution of awareness. I'm as scared as I am excited for this position fits well with my personality. I'm going to live through good times to remember such a fateful battle. I'm going to stop writing for I should continue in my scout duty.
3 hours later
Haha! I've just killed three German dogs. Oh how exhilarating this killing is. For me to refrain back to my old logs is pathetic for I have never imagined the thrill of death of my enemies. I finally recognize the addiction to a person's death. Weather I'd now be considered a barbarian matters not to me for I now shoot my static eagles onto the entrails of my feeble prey.
I hear more German rats approaching the bell tower. I will continue to write another time.
April 22, 1945
This is not good. This is not good...... We're the first engagement to Berlin German forces and our military is being cut like butter. One by one, my brothers die and when I saw Peter die, I just knew what would happen next. Ignoring fact, I just hope that this journal would live on to ages. I regret having such a small log covered in interruption and defiance but I just hope that someone will find this and understand me. I wish my family well since aircraft are now bombing our forces. I just hope that.............................
I should also state that this story is written from the perspective of an intelligent Soviet solder that is put into positions as a sniper man. He describes the story in his journal. This is very short and simple. I did not put much effort into detailing the story with advanced vocabulary. This should be a logistical way of how people write journal entries.
_________________________________________________________________
April 14, 1945
It is April the 14th of 1945 and I've been incarcerated onto this outpost east of Berlin. My Soviet brothers are to soon assault the perimeters of Berlin and ascend to victory for the "Allied" powers. I find this war pointless, foolish, and complacent. This conflict deters the insanity of human philosophy in the brinks of the Earth itself. Firstly, we were considered pawns of a dark hand enveloped by greed, frenzy, and complacency
I find this war corrupt and fulfilling of the destruction we will bring to this world one day. I've carried the burden of war on my shoulders for too long to intertwine with the formalities of death. Death of which no men deserves in a period such as this only signifies the unhallowed fracture placed upon us as a race.
For once we were mindless, curious. and anxious; but due to such greedy ambitions and addictions, we not plunge forth to a battlefield scarred of godless purity. Purity which brews and conjures the blood of many innocent. We've plagued this world with monstrous devices that I alone find to most unfortunate.
I've done many sinful actions in my youth as private of the Soviet Regime. I've been forced by my "superiors' to slay innocent civilians in a merciless raid onto enemy territory. I'm ashamed that I've been dictated with the abominable tenancies of decadent individuals unworthy of their rank and sire.
To think back at those moments just make me aggravated. For me to now use this rusty sniper to shoot Germans just makes me confused. I feel like I should suicide but I can't. I think that somewhere in this forsaken world, that I will find a future worthy of respect. After this war, I'll be left to ponder the world in freedom. I just hope that tomorrow, I'll have a much more refreshing thing to write about.
April 15, 1945
It's now April 15th of 1945 and apparently, the day has gone more tiresome then expected. I've been rendezvous to a new outpost even closer to Berlin. I saw many stone pillars along the way but they were all ruined and desolated. The architecture was most impressive but in its current condition, I'd rather not think about it too much.
I also see many strange beautiful structures. Bronze, copper, brick, concrete, and wood are what make such majestic structures. I witness more pillars in these homes as well as domes, statues, gardens, and even flags fibered of the most delicate silk. This silk appeased me as I walked by. It gave me a strange sense of the craftsmanship put into it; that a beautiful design could only come from the reagents of excellent Asian silk. I thought I should take it but alas, I had to continue marching with my small unit, consisting of only six men.
One of the men, Peter Dernov, is a great friend to me. I'm glad to at least have some company around me in my troubles. We take seldom moments now recently to avoid communications since I think he had a very troubling issue. He never told me why and I felt like asking, but the urge was too intensive to reject. i don't know what came over me, but I fainted.
Oddly enough after waking up and hearing what happened, I became confused. Peter suddenly came up to me and told me I drank too much. I was again confused but my mind was too dazed to produce accurate thoughts. I never drank in my life and I was an idiot to not respond immediately to his statement. This became the end of our relationship because for some reason, he spat on my shoe and went away. My mind was too linear to simulate thoughts of anger but I knew that he had a grudge to drunk people. I'd best wait tomorrow to continue writing because this day seems too confusing.
April 17, 1945
Two days passed since I've last written hear. For some reason, my general took this journal and hid it for me. I was annoying but I finally recovered it secretly. I just hope he doesn't find out.
We're now supposed to head for Berlin directly for a Soviet assault that should end the European World War. I doubt this but as I'm being driven by this tank, I seem to wonder weather war will ever end. This war has taken weird steps. I haven't stepped in battle and I still find this assault as a very bad idea. I just hope my fright doesn't trigger a catastrophic result for us as I wish this attack would work.
I seem to hear footsteps...... I think it's the general! I'm going to have to continue in other day. I must place it in the original spot..........
April 21, 1945
The general gave my journal back at last. I'm surprised he didn't read it or he would've punished me for sure. Either way, we're now in Berlin. I am on top of a cathedral bell tower ordered to snipe any Germans who show upon visibility. The streets are scattered with corpses and debris. The surrounding city is destroyed; bombed by Allied aircraft several months ago. The sky is ashen and smoke blankets the atmosphere.
It's a pollution of awareness. I'm as scared as I am excited for this position fits well with my personality. I'm going to live through good times to remember such a fateful battle. I'm going to stop writing for I should continue in my scout duty.
3 hours later
Haha! I've just killed three German dogs. Oh how exhilarating this killing is. For me to refrain back to my old logs is pathetic for I have never imagined the thrill of death of my enemies. I finally recognize the addiction to a person's death. Weather I'd now be considered a barbarian matters not to me for I now shoot my static eagles onto the entrails of my feeble prey.
I hear more German rats approaching the bell tower. I will continue to write another time.
April 22, 1945
This is not good. This is not good...... We're the first engagement to Berlin German forces and our military is being cut like butter. One by one, my brothers die and when I saw Peter die, I just knew what would happen next. Ignoring fact, I just hope that this journal would live on to ages. I regret having such a small log covered in interruption and defiance but I just hope that someone will find this and understand me. I wish my family well since aircraft are now bombing our forces. I just hope that.............................
