We Are The Champions

• Nicholas Eadie, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2012

Jeremy Morlenson was running out of time- the enemy was bringing down helicopters on all of the Northern control points and would air-drop hundreds of men on key points in the battlefield. The propellers on the choppers were slicing through the air, kicking up dust into the faces of the people below. The enemy captured control points at grid squares D3, E2 and B3, taking out all of the occupied CPs on the northern front. Jeremy sprinted towards a forest area in the centre of the battlefield, where he was concealed. He signalled for the three of his squad to come over with him, and the rest occupy the buildings on the other side of the dusty road.
Jeremy was the leader of his squad, and focused on the big picture instead of taking out small targets. The road they were defending was on the slightly southern side of the battlefield, but it was the only road in the area. As there was heavy bushland on the East and West sides of the battlefield, it was impossible for any successful charge of tanks to not go through the road they were defending.
The helicopters had air-dropped their troops and flew off into the distance. Jeremy could see that the soldiers on the ground were making a charge on the bushland on the East and West sides of the field, whereas the tanks were going straight through the middle, just where Jeremy wanted them.
As the tanks strolled through the road, Jeremy gave the order to fire. The rockets from their launchers punched through the bulky metal frames of the heavy tanks, takingeat it and don’t think about the taste. By them completely by surprise. The enemy only managed to air-drop three tanks, so they took them out easily. Jeremy’s squad kept their positions, in case if more tanks were dropped in. Suddenly his radio on his belt started to splutter and stutter, but eventually a voice came through. “We have done it, Morlenson. The troops couldn’t get past our men in the bushland. We are the champions!”
“JEREMY! DINNER’S READY!” a voice called from downstairs. Jeremy moaned and said, “Sorry guys, I gotta go!” He ran down the wooden stairs and sat down at the table behind a plate of- “Muuuuuuum, I HATE brussel sprouts! Can’t we have someth-” “Just the way, you’re banned from that computer if you are going to talk to me like that!” The woman snapped.
Well, at least Jeremy had fun playing his new shooting game while it lasted!