Example of Historical Narration

The historical narrative or historical narrative is that narration that refers to a historical fact, which are related by a narrator, (generally an omniscient narrator, especially in books aimed at teaching), who makes us know the facts, whether one is a reader or a listener. Thus, the historical narrative is also common through the narrative voice of a fictional character, or of a real one, through whose voice the events that occurred in a certain historical period are narrated. These last two facets of historical narration are often reflected in historical novels and documentaries, using literary resources in prose, thereby that an impression of realism can be given to a narrative text or a historical narrative (such as the historical narratives that are usually made in documentaries).

Historical narratives are characterized both by being based on historiographic, bibliographic, emerographic and other sources, as well as by relying on sciences such as archeology, geography, anthropology, and disciplines such as numismatics, chronology, cartography, philology, logic, and use properly scientific tools, as when they are carried out chemical analysis, radio carbon, etc., sciences with which the investigations are based to carry out the historical narratives, which gives it a scientific-reliable character, at the narrated. In addition to this, several forms of literature can be observed, which gives it a humanistic approach, thus entering the set of the arts, by forming a genre of literature.

To make a historical narrative, the first thing to do is select a particular historical topic and research the information referring to the subject, such as events, dates, places, etc., and in the event that it is intended to use a narrator who participates in some In fact, the same character (fictitious or real) will be introduced, in accordance with the real historical data, collected for the narrative.

Example of historical narration using a fictional character:

It was the year 1915, when the battle of Celaya took place during the revolution, I was eight or nine years old, I don't know exactly, the fact is that I, hidden from my parents, along with other children, I approached the place of the battle that had concluded yesterday, I saw several bodies hanging from the trees, because at the end of the battle they had hung the prisoners, he could not distinguish the faces of those who had died and had been hanged, because we did not get close enough to see in detail, because fear had overwhelmed. Since when we saw from afar, how the eyes and the tongues of the hanged ones came out, we were filled with fear when we approached, we did not know for sure who the hanged ones were, but we did know that they were from our town, since almost all the young people had been listed to enter the revolution almost a year ago, joining the troops of General Town. They believed that they would win because they were brave and good horsemen and shooters, but they did not count on the bald men they would bring machine guns, with which they swept the ranks of the troops who bravely threw themselves into the load. On that occasion Celaya was dyed red, leaving General Álvaro Obregón as the winner, who had placed soldiers with machine guns and barbed wire to stop Villa's cavalry. (José Juan Pedro López Pérez, "Fictitious character").

Example of a historical narrative where the narrator is omniscient and not a character:

In April 1913 with only nine men, after hiding in the United States, Francisco Villa returned to Mexico to join the revolt that followed the death of Francisco I Madero, to fight against President Victoriano Vegetable plot. By the end of September 1913, he had managed to integrate a good part of his so-called "northern division", with several thousand men, having obtained resources in various ways, and bought weapons in the United States, soon taking the city of Torreón Coahuila, with which the trains that there there was. This facilitated the transport and mobility of his troops, through a wide area of ​​the north of the country, which gave him a great advantage for taking the city. Juárez, through a series of stratagems that gave him great fame among his men and made him known in Mexico and the world, as a great leader and strategist. While he advanced with his troops in the trains, and as he arrived at the successive telegraph stations that were in the towns to as he arrived, he pretended to be the commander of the train (commander of the federal army who requested instructions by telegraph to the city Juárez). Shortly afterwards he arrived in said city, on the night of November 15, 1913, giving the order to take the city, which was off guard, taking the federal troops by surprise, since much of the garrison still slept, winning the battle quickly. (Second Taking of Cd. Juárez by Francisco Villa November 15, 1913).

Example of historical narration of a real character:

… ”My little secret information service assured us, after a few days, that Benito Mussolini was in a mountain hotel located at the foot of the Gran Sasso summit.

From that moment on we worked feverishly to collect all the data and maps that could guide us on the topography of the terrain in that area. To our great dismay we learned that the hotel in question was completed when the war broke out, so it was not listed on any kind of maps. The only information we were able to obtain about it were descriptions of a German who lived in Italy and that, in 1938, he had spent his winter holidays in it, then just opened hotel. We were also able to obtain other information through a brochure published by a travel agency, which described, in great detail, the delights of that paradise for skiers.

However, we had to recognize that the data obtained was insufficient to guide us and carry out such a risky and important military operation. It was absolutely necessary that we could have some aerial photographs of the whole area. For this reason, early on Wednesday, September 8, 1943, the High Command placed at our disposal an aircraft equipped with an automatic camera. On that important and decisive flight, I was accompanied by my personal assistant and an officer of the Secret Service (I – C), to whom we thought to entrust a mission in our later operations.

Early in the morning, we would travel in heavy vehicles on roads flanked by olive groves or fruit orchards, in direction to the coast, because precisely on the coast was the Rome airport, Pratica di Mare, which we thought to take off. The "treasure" of German aviation, a "He-111", welcomed us on board. We take height immediately. We were not unaware that our flight must have been unknown to Italians. We decided, therefore, to inspect the topography of Abruzzo from 5,000 meters above sea level. We even went so far as not to inform the pilot of the mission we were carrying out. We led him to believe that we intended to take a few pictures of various ports on the Adriatic.

When we were thirty kilometers from our destination point, we decided to take the first pictures with the camera that we had on board. When we wanted to do it we realized that the photographic installations of the device had frozen like consequence of the cold prevailing in those heights, so we had to give up our large chamber cameramen. Fortunately we had a small handheld camera and we used it.

As we were wearing the "Africa Korps" uniforms, we suffered a lot from the cold. We could not afford to open the domed glass roof of the aircraft during the flight; therefore, we had to break a large segment of shatterproof glass, in order to have a hole through which to remove our camera. Our makeshift observatory forced the photographer to keep his head, shoulders and arms out of the cockpit of the apparatus.

She would never have imagined that the air was so cold and the wind so strong! I told my assistant to grip me tightly by the legs, and then I pulled my entire torso, slightly covered by the summer uniform, through the newly opened hole. I saw that we were flying over our target, the mountain hotel; at our feet, the "Campo Imperatore", a large building built in the middle of the mountain, surrounded by the steep peaks of the Gran Sasso, which rose to two thousand meters above sea level. Huge brownish rocks, great cliffs, late-snow-covered peaks, and a few meadows stretched out below.

At that time, we were flying over the building that interested us so much. I took the opportunity to take the first photograph. I had to turn the plate control device several times, very hard indeed, to prepare the camera for the second shot. That movement made me realize that his fingers were stiff, so cold they were. However, I ignored the fact and pressed the shutter button a second time.

Right behind the hotel was a flat, grassy patch of land that was shaped like a triangle. To myself, I decided:

"I've already found our landing field."

A narrow path, which formed a slight bend, led me to suppose that the meadow had been used as a learning trail for beginners in the sport of skiing. And it was the same piece of land that my "informant" from Rome had told me about. Naturally, I took the third photograph. Immediately, I kicked my assistant hard, to make him understand that it was time for him to reintroduce me into the apparatus.

We keep, as if it were a treasure, the camera with the first views taken. I did not warm up again for several minutes, and this was thanks to the fact that my colleagues gave me strong blows to the chest, back and arms "... (Transcription of Otto Skorzeny's account of the rescue of the Italian Duce, Benito Mussolini, in 1943.