War Photo

• Amy Brannan, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2010

The putrid air was alive with the metallic ring of bullets and the yelling and moaning of men. Private Ned Calson and Private Jason Smithton were Australian soldiers fighting for the Allies in World War ll. They were comrades and mates. They were fighting side by side in a trench in France. They had trained together and were told that they would be helping their country.
The trench smelt like blood, sweat and fear. Ned ducked as a bullet whizzed past his tin helmet. That was close, he thought. Ned and Jason ducked as a grenade went off nearby. The explosion temporarily deafened and blinded Jason and Ned. Ned stumbled around and leant against the blood-stained trench. He shook his aching head a few times and looked up to see Jason fall, as if in slow motion, against the side of the trench with a bit of shrapnel protruding from his uniform clad chest. His lips moved but no sound came out. Jason’s eyes screamed his pain but he did not make a sound. Ned knelt beside him as Jason clutched his arm. Jason reached into his torn pocket and pulled out a black and white picture of his pregnant wife. “Look after Molly for me. Tell her I love her.” Jason gasped as he looked into Ned’s eyes. “You can tell her that yourself, Jason. You’re going to tell her yourself.” Ned whispered but his eyes belied his words. “Just promise me.” Jason groaned. “Yes, of course, but don’t give up yet, please.” Ned begged. Jason’s breathing became shallower and both of them knew that he didn’t have long. The blood was seeping out of the wound and the blood stain on his uniform was getting bigger. Jason clutched Ned’s pale hand. Ned looked into Jason’s eyes and saw the pain, the fear, the sadness and the defeat. He also saw the love, the laughter and the mate that he had laughed with and fought with. Jason gave a final sigh and closed his eyes. Ned felt Jason’s hand go limp in his own. His face was a vision of peace, his mouth turned up into a slight smile. The picture of his wife lay against his still heart, the frayed edges of the photo turning red with Jason’s blood. A single tear rolled down Private Ned Calson’s pale cheek. It was for the loss of his mate, for his mate’s widow and his mate’s unborn child that he would never lay eyes on.
After the war Ned went to look after Jason’s widow, Molly, and tell her Jason’s final words. He held Jason’s child and wept for the loss that the child had suffered. He held Molly and wept for the loss that had made her a widow. He wept the most for the loss that he suffered, for he had lost his comrade and his mate.
They buried Private Jason Smithton with the frayed, blood-stained photo of his pregnant wife and a photo of his child on his still heart that would never beat again.