Short Essay World War 2

Short Essay World War 2-15
The United States had sustained more than 320,000 casualties in the First World War, including over 53,000 killed in action, over 63,000 non-combat related deaths, mainly due to the influenza pandemic of 1918, and 204,000 wounded.In less than two years the United States had established new motorized and combat forces, equipped them with all types of ordnance including machine guns and tanks, and created an entirely new support organization capable of moving supplies thousands of miles in a timely manner.Pershing wanted an American force that could operate independently of the other Allies, but his vision could not be realized until adequately trained troops with sufficient supplies reached Europe.

World War I provided the United States with valuable strategic lessons and an officer corps that would become the nucleus for mobilizing and commanding sixteen million American military personnel in World War II.

—Jeremy Taylor, Holy Dying (1651) My father owned a gorgeous porcelain tiger about half the size of a house cat.

My wife knows how much I like big cats and all other varieties of predators and raptors, and she painstakingly glued the tiger back together and gave it to me as a present.

It's roaring at me again as I write this: it stands on a shelf in my study, surrounded by what I hope is more congenial company—grimacing wind-up monsters, maddened dinosaurs, a couple of snarling dragons with their wings outspread, and a sullen rubber shark opening wide to take a bite at passersby.

In these two military operations, Allied forces recovered more than two hundred square miles of French territory from the German army.

Short Essay World War 2

By the time Germany signed the Armistice on November 11, 1918, the American Expeditionary Forces had evolved into a modern, combat-tested army recognized as one of the best in the world.

He'd bought it in Korea, where he'd been a bomber pilot during the Korean war; his squadron had been called the Flying Tigers.

My wife hadn't known that; I barely remembered it myself. He'd accumulated fistfuls of medals over there, and he kept them stashed in an anonymous little plush case at the back of his closet, where they went unseen for decades.

He kept it on a shelf in our family den, where for years when I was a kid it roared down at us—unappeasably furious (or so I always thought) at being trapped up there on its high perch, with no company except some painted beer mugs and a set of purple glass swizzle sticks. Probably my brother and I were having a skirmish and a shot went wild.

I thought my father would be furious, but he didn't say a word.

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