Fateful Day At Gallipoli

• Charlie Umbers, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2010

I’m lying on my stomach, face first in the great sodden trenches of Gallipoli. I haven’t slept since two in the morning, yesterday. My nerves are stretched to breaking , one by one our army decreases at the hands of the Turks. Half dead, half alive. Bullets continuously flying angrily above me. The little bit of energy I have left is drained away, energy I would rather use to hug my anxious family back home. In my mind, I cannot see them any more. So close, yet so far away. Sleep drifts over me, my eyes start to droop……….........
It’s been an hour. Two of my friends are no longer comforting me, both lying flat on the ground, hidden by blood and mud. Stinking like hell! I try to stand, but the mass of sloppy, brown and stinking goo is too strong. It squelches between my bare, blistered toes, rubbing against the sores and causing a blast of hot pain to sear through my body. I scream in agony, long, loud calls enough to wake the dead. Hearing my cries two soldiers run towards me, followed by a blast of screaming bullets. Bullets penetrate one of the soldiers, blowing him apart. The second commander dives for cover beside me, missing by millimetres the blast of bullets.
“The Turks continue to bombard us,” the commander gasps, kneeling stiffly and quickly glancing over his shoulder.
“Stay hidden. What is wrong, soldier?” His voice is shaky and croaky.
The moment I dread, my heart races as I slowly pull back my trouser leg, the wound is too much to bear. It is covered in blisters, much worse than before. A volcano of puss and blood spray over my ripped, thin shirt as the blisters burst. I can’t look. Tears are running down my bloodstained cheeks. “No,” I scream. Pulses of blood push on my skull. I feel sick. Like an iron ring getting tighter and tighter around my chest I breathe in long, hard puffs.
“BREATHE SOLDIER BREATHE!” shouts my commander.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHRRRRRGGGGGG!!!!!” Only a gasp escapes my dry, cracked lips. I clumsily force myself to run along the trench. The Turks, still firing spot me.
“TAKE COVER!!!” yells Commander Jack. My ears shut down, I can’t hear him. My stick – thin legs stumble over muddy puddles and rocks, but somehow I manage to keep my balance. My heart is pumping, like the beating of a drum inside my chest. Adrenalin floods through my brain, speeding up my muscles and yelling at my heart to stay alive. Images of my family flash through my mind. Swinging around, I fire my heavy gun towards the now winning enemy. I get my response – yet another array of screaming bullets. I dive, but not soon enough. Two bullets shoot cleanly through my chest. A stream of red splashes my face.
My eyes are blurry, my head tips, blood streaming from my chest. Dropping my gun and closing my eyes, I black out…………………