Remember

• Eleanor Waters - Jones, Grade 4, Wagga Wagga Public School
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'The Write Track 2015' competition

December 7th, 1917
My name’s David Morrison. I come from a farm, just outside Wagga. I signed up two months ago. I’m 17, which is under age but my mate Blue showed me how to fool them. When I left home, Mum was sobbing and so was Possie. We call Possie that because when she was little, she was always hanging onto Jack’s legs and swinging round when he walked.
Sometimes he would give her a dance on his leg, just so he could get on with his work.
The army sure wasn’t what I thought it was going to be.
Sergeant said to me this morning, “You need to smarten up Morrison! You’re in the army you know!” I chuckled to Blue and got Sergeant in my face. “I’m warning you boy,” he
growled. That was my first warning.
December 10th, 1917
I wrote to my family today. I told them how much I miss them, that I’m thinking of them every day, but I didn’t tell them about the doings of war. I knew Mum would be upset. If Dad was around, I could tell him.
There’s been some silent sobbing here.
Sergeant says that it’s only four more days until we have to go to the front. I’m scared out of my wits. Sergeant says, “It’s terrible, ‘orrible, not to mention, you’ll be lucky to stay alive for five seconds. But you can’t turn back now, cause you’re in the army!” After that he always chuckles to himself in a funny way, as if he’s trying to make us feel bad about joining.
December 12th 1917
The food’s terrible here.
December 13th, 1917
My mates are Blue, and a guy called Terry. Sometimes Terry breaks down into fits saying, “The army isn’t a place for me, I hate my Dad for forcing me to join, I’d rather be dead than watching my mates die!”
Sometimes I wonder if all Dads are like that.
December 14th 1917
Today was the worst day of my life. Going to the front. I’m so scared.
December 23rd, 1917
We fought yesterday. I got wounded and think already that I’m going mad. It’s unbelievable what this war does to people. I don’t know how many more entries I’ll be able to do before I’m killed. I’m certain that I will be, somehow.
December 24th 1917
Christmas tomorrow and we still have to fight. Sergeant says, “It’s fightin’ or dyin’!” I remember back home at Christmas time. We always have delicious pork, presents and laughter.
December 25th 1917
I know I’m going to die. I just know it.
David Morrison has died. I’m telling you this because I wanted to make sure that you understand that war is a nightmare. I am telling you this because you might be the one to save the world, one day. I’m not kidding. You might.
Sergeant Murray
P.S Remember this word: Remember.
Remember what I have told you, forever.