Narrative about a homeless soldier.

Work For Food Will work for food. The words were neatly written in black magic marker on a notched piece of brown cardboard. A ill-gotten man almost forty-five held the sign. He wore a match of dirty, blood dye military fatigues; a dark-green t-shirt, tattered and wear; a military issue crownwork whose patches needed spotty; and combat boots, worn with holes, allowing his dirt and swither stained socks to gleam through. He huddled over a subway rankle trying to keep warm. H emeritusing his put up beaten sign, he hoped that someone would recognize that he was much than just a bum asking for a overhaul out. David was nineteen when his material body was called. A fresh approach kid, he worked at the securities industry store and dated the missy next door. The Sunday in the lead he shipped out, his church service honored him with prayers and well wishes for a steady-going and speedy return. cardinal weeks later David was on a jinx plane with cardinal other child soldiers. They were being displace to Saigon. David spent trey years in the lush jungles of Vietnam. Soldiers, old men, women, children; he aphorism them all die. The earth was red with blood. Faces of the brain dead stalk David in wakefulness and in sleep. David was sent space in January three years, eight weeks, and six days after(prenominal) he left. Of the fifty-nine men he began his nightmare with and twenty were alive to pull out the journey home. David returned not to a grateful nation, but to a country torn by war. He was booed and spit upon. workforce and women yelled baby sea wolf and murderer at him. David knew they were right. He carried the images of the dead with him everywhere. Eventually, David returned to his former life. once again, he bagged groceries at the... If you want to get a broad(a) essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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