Narrative Essay On Sick Soldiers

Sickness hangs heavy in the air with the stench of death. Soldiers walk by me in tattered clothes, some missing shoes and toes. As I lay on the ground of my hut, trying to sleep, that another poor soldier had to build, I shiver and huddle in a ball to try to keep my body heat toward me in an attempt to keep me somewhat warm. The Continental Army made our winter camp in a town called Valley Forge, located eighteen miles out of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. During the winters of 1777 and 1778, there was freezing weather and a couple thousand of sick soldiers and dead soldiers (Busch, 147). Many soldiers are not re-enlisting or are deserting before their nine-month re-enlistment has ended which I would never participate in due to loyalty and honor. General Washington, desperate to keep an army together to fight the war against Britain has asked us soldiers look
There are many soldiers getting sick with smallpox (Root) and other illnesses, there is a high chance I will become sick too. I overheard General Washington speaking to one of the surgeons concerning the health of our troop. 49% of all of the soldiers are sick and probably lying down weak in the hospital clinging to life. 1800 to 2500 of these die without the chance to return home and see their family one last time (Busch, 147). Among these couple thousand was one of my dear childhood friends that I had begged to come fight the war with me so that I could see a familiar face. When I walk by my fellow soldiers, I cringe at the sight of some with missing toes or worse (Powell, 149). If I die in our winter camp, won’t it regard to be in vain? I came here to fight a war for independence from Britain and a country of our own where we can compose the laws and taxes. I did not come here to die from the bitter cold of our winter