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rockspaperjesus wrote:I think you have a good story and some really great imagery, but many of your sentences are way too long.

CanadianWolf wrote:This is not a good personal statement for law school since it is poorly written, poorly organized & lacks clarity of thought. This essay may harm your law school applications.

CanadianWolf wrote:The main problem is that your essay is a "what I did in the Army" piece & not a persaonal statement offering insights into your development & your view of the world.

FattyMcFatFat wrote:All right. I Ghandi-fied this mofo and I'm back for round two. What do you guys think? (Thanks P )...

Three years ago, I was standing in an East Baghdad alley, plastered against a bullet-ridden wall, trying to avoid contact with the AK47 rounds whizzing past my head. My only thought was the safety of the team I led, as my company’s leadership huddled in an adjacent hole in the wall, deciding our next course of action. This paragraph can be communicated better - the frequent commas make the sentences sound very choppy

Three years earlier, I had stood next to many other young faces as we collectively uttered the Oath of Enlistment. I was still just a teenager, and my recruiter was able to sell me with tales of the “glory of battle” and camaraderie with my fellow soldiers, along with condescending remarks about the “anti-war hippies” that might attempt to persuade me to not enlist. I had scored in the 99th percentile on the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, and could have pursued the military occupation of my choosing; I just wanted to jump out of airplanes, shoot guns, and blow stuff up. Can be combined into 1 sentence

I spent the next six months of my life learning to follow; and the following (Use "next", "succeeding", etc. but don't write "following" - repetitive) six years learning to lead. I gained recognition (change to "was recognized" as one of the very best among my peers (one of the best what?), reaching the rank of Sergeant in just over two years, and graduating from Jumpmaster School as the only first-time attendee to do so in his class of 100 commissioned and non-commissioned officers.

On my first deployment to Iraq, I saw relatively little action (makes you sound like a gun-slinging 16-year old no offense...make sure you use different word(s)), and I adjusted easily upon returning stateside. In fact, the experience did little to dampen that feeling of invincibility I had the day I took the oath. Even injuring my back and hip, after from jumping out of a plane in a training exercise, failed to temper my bravado.

Transition here is not very good

I couldn’t have predicted what was to come based upon my first combat experience. I married my wife on December 29, was told that I would be deploying for a second time on December 30, and left for Baghdad on January 2. One week later, on January 10, President Bush announced the surge to the world. This time, I participated in things far more extreme than most of my first tour. I witnessed many friends wounded or killed as we faced attempts on our lives on a regular basis. When events became almost too much to handle, I drew on my ability to deliver words of consolation or motivation for my soldiers. I must admit that there were times when I took solace in a moment of solitary introspection (language seems extremely out of place); but never did I show weakness.

As I led my team through the doorway that served as the “fatal frontal” of that mosque that (repetitious) day in Baghdad, I recalled the dirty yellow hoodie and sagging pants that naïve kid, convinced he was invincible, was wearing when he enlisted. (I get what you're saying here, but this sentence is written clumsily) I doubt I will ever speak further of that battle in Baghdad, except to say that never again will I view a challenge as insurmountable.

My combat experiences changed me in a way I could never have expected. As the son of a truck driver, and the oldest member of my family’s first generation of college students, I took an introductory Philosophy course and found myself hooked. (Awkward transition) As my professor drew a stick figure with a gun to his head to prompt discussion of Hume and determinism, it occurred to me that my daily experiences in the military were metaphysical struggles as well as physical ones. I next read Descartes, himself a former soldier. My minor in Philosophy, garnered while exploring the ideas of Kant, Dewey and others, became what I now understand as the liberal arts education for which the undergraduate experience is intended.

I plan to continue to pursue that liberal arts education in law school. I understand the need for the practical – I am, after all, a Finance/Economics major (don't mention that being a finance/economics major is practical) – but I also believe that the study of law is a rich venue for the exploration of abstract ethical concepts like virtue and justice.

I plan to continue to pursue that liberal arts education in law school. I understand the need for the practical – I am, after all, a Finance/Economics major – but I also believe that the study of law is a rich venue for the exploration of abstract ethical concepts like virtue and justice.

I plan to continue to pursue that liberal arts education in law school. I understand the need for the practical – I am, after all, a Finance/Economics major – but I also believe that the study of law is a rich venue for the exploration of abstract ethical concepts about how to live, and what is worth fighting for.

FattyMcFatFat wrote:All right. I Ghandi-fied this mofo and I'm back for round two. What do you guys think? (Thanks P )...

Three years ago, I was standing in an East Baghdad alley, plastered against a bullet-ridden wall, trying to avoid contact with the AK47 rounds whizzing past my head. My only thought was the safety of the team I led, as my company’s leadership huddled in an adjacent hole in the wall, deciding our next course of action.

Three years earlier, I had stood next to many other young faces as we collectively uttered the Oath of Enlistment. I was still just a teenager, and my recruiter was able to sell me with tales of the “glory of battle” and camaraderie with my fellow soldiers, along with condescending remarks about the “anti-war hippies” that might attempt to persuade me to not enlist. I had scored in the 99th percentile on the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, and could have pursued the military occupation of my choosing; I just wanted to jump out of airplanes, shoot guns, and blow stuff up.
<-No offense intended, but this sentence makes you sound oddly neanderthal-esque when contrasted with your scoring in the 99th percentile of the test. Reducing your desire to joining the military to wanting to blow shit up is kind of off-putting to me.
I spent the next six months of my life learning to follow; and the following six years learning to lead. I gained recognition as one of the very best among my peers, reaching the rank of Sergeant in just over two years, and graduating from Jumpmaster School as the only first-time attendee to do so in his class of 100 commissioned and non-commissioned officers.

On my first deployment to Iraq, I saw relatively little action, and I adjusted easily upon returning stateside. In fact, the experience did little to dampen that feeling of invincibility I had the day I took the oath. Even injuring my back and hip, after jumping out of a plane in a training exercise, failed to temper my bravado.

I couldn’t have predicted what was to come based upon my first combat experience. I married my wife on December 29, was told that I would be deploying for a second time on December 30, and left for Baghdad on January 2. One week later, on January 10, President Bush announced the surge to the world. This time, I participated in things far more extreme than most of my first tour. I witnessed many friends wounded or killed as we faced attempts on our lives on a regular basis. When events became almost too much to handle, I drew on my ability to deliver words of consolation or motivation for my soldiers. I must admit that there were times when I took solace in a moment of solitary introspection; but never did I show weakness.

As I led my team through the doorway that served as the “fatal frontal” of that mosque that day in Baghdad, I recalled the dirty yellow hoodie and sagging pants that naïve kid, convinced he was invincible, was wearing when he enlisted. Lots of things i see wrong with this sentence. A) the dirty yellow hoodie and saggy pants imagery: this comes out of nowhere and though it can be assumed you're talking about you, it is still oddly vague. B)Earlier in the essay you say that your only thought was of your men's safety. Here you say you're recalling how far you've come C) Though I understand that this is for rhetorical purposes, I can never imagine you actually going through any introspection during the heat of battle. I assume you are focusing on not dying. I doubt I will ever speak further of that battle in Baghdad, except to say that never again will I view a challenge as insurmountable.

My combat experiences changed me in a way I could never have expected.you need a transition here. The shift is awkward. As the son of a truck driver, and the oldest member of my family’s first generation of college students, I took an introductory Philosophy course and found myself hooked. As my professor drew a stick figure with a gun to his head to prompt discussion of Hume and determinism, it occurred to me that my daily experiences in the military were metaphysical struggles as well as physical ones. I next read Descartes, himself a former soldier. My minor in Philosophy, garnered while exploring the ideas of Kant, Dewey and others, became what I now understand as the liberal arts education for which the undergraduate experience is intended.

I plan to continue to pursue that liberal arts education in law school. I understand the need for the practical – I am, after all, a Finance/Economics major – but I also believe that the study of law is a rich venue for the exploration of abstract ethical concepts like virtue and justice.

I just wanted to jump out of airplanes, shoot guns, and blow stuff up.
<-No offense intended, but this sentence makes you sound oddly neanderthal-esque when contrasted with your scoring in the 99th percentile of the test. Reducing your desire to joining the military to wanting to blow shit up is kind of off-putting to me.

As I led my team through the doorway that served as the “fatal frontal” of that mosque that day in Baghdad, I recalled the dirty yellow hoodie and sagging pants that naïve kid, convinced he was invincible, was wearing when he enlisted. Lots of things i see wrong with this sentence. B)Earlier in the essay you say that your only (I'll get rid of "only") thought was of your men's safety. Here you say you're recalling how far you've come I'll make the connection between my personal growth and that "naive kid" clearerC) Though I understand that this is for rhetorical purposes, I can never imagine you actually going through any introspection during the heat of battle. I assume you are focusing on not dying.

FattyMcFatFat wrote:None taken, and thanks for the thoughts. Responding...

I just wanted to jump out of airplanes, shoot guns, and blow stuff up.
<-No offense intended, but this sentence makes you sound oddly neanderthal-esque when contrasted with your scoring in the 99th percentile of the test. Reducing your desire to joining the military to wanting to blow shit up is kind of off-putting to me.

That is precisely the point. I've grown since then. I'll make that clearer later in the PS.

As I led my team through the doorway that served as the “fatal frontal” of that mosque that day in Baghdad, I recalled the dirty yellow hoodie and sagging pants that naïve kid, convinced he was invincible, was wearing when he enlisted. Lots of things i see wrong with this sentence. B)Earlier in the essay you say that your only (I'll get rid of "only") thought was of your men's safety. Here you say you're recalling how far you've come I'll make the connection between my personal growth and that "naive kid" clearerC) Though I understand that this is for rhetorical purposes, I can never imagine you actually going through any introspection during the heat of battle. I assume you are focusing on not dying.

Regarding part C, I can't resist. "The argument presumes, without justification..."

Everything done in defense of your life becomes mechanical. No thought is necessary, you just do. Also, I'd be a little bit upset as an American citizen/taxpayer if American infantrymen were so cowardly that all they would be thinking about in a situation like this is "not dying".

It's not cowardice. It's biology. Fight or flight. Adrenaline.

AK-47 rounds are whizzing past your head and your taking a stroll down memory lane? You're chuckling and thinking about your maturity over time in the middle of a gun battle?

Does that provide enough justification for my presupposition? I'm not trying to be a douche, honestly. It just seems contrived. It serves a purpose rhetorically, but it's highly unbelievable to me. Sorry for being the debbie downer.

I guess something bothered me about the thought of a soldier huddled in some corner, immersed in his own self-pity, worrying about "not dying".