Off To War

• Alison Collins, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2016

The sound of the beating drum echoed through the town, reverberating in the still morning air. For most, the sound meant that the army was departing- nothing of the utmost importance- but for some, those whose names had been drawn, or even for those who had volunteered, it meant the worst day of their lives.
As always, the town was busy. But today men did not whistle as they pushed their wheelbarrows, and the women did not sing as they hung out the washing on the line.
For today their strongest would leave them. Not unprotected- protection was not a problem, as it was a peaceful town- but all knew, -even if they tried to hide it- that many who were leaving them may never return.
Jamie Locust sat slumped on the badly painted front steps of his porch. His eyes were closed, his shoulders hunched over, as if he had lost the will to live. Most looked at him in sympathy they went past, but said nothing. What would they say?
“Sorry Jamie dear, I know luck isn’t exactly going your way, but there is a small chance you may not die.” Didn’t quite seem to cut it. It surely wouldn’t make him feel better, if they tried to talk to him about it.
Jamie’s mother called out to him, telling him to dress, or he would be late. He couldn’t tell his mother he didn’t want to put on the uniform. After all, he had volunteered.
His father was different. He was upset that Jamie was going, but he hid his grief and showed his pride instead. When Jamie was near him he would grin and exclaim:
“There’s my brave young man!” Jamie would pretend to be pleased, but really, he would feel sick.
Jamie changed into his army uniform. His parents were proud of him, so he needed to appear as if he was something to be proud of. His collar itched, and he felt hot in the old, thick suit.
He walked out the front door. Breathe in, breathe out. He stepped forward, but someone grabbed his shoulders. He expected his father to be standing behind him, but when he turned it was his mother. There were tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked more dishevelled than he had ever seen her. In a way, it made him feel more frightened. If his mother couldn’t even attempt a façade, how could he?
He hugged her, then stepped onto the dusty road. He peered into the distance. He saw hundreds of men, green clothed marching towards them. They had almost reached them. Jamie spun and kissed his mother, then his father, who had come out from his house. Then he stepped outside and joined the marching army.
He didn’t look back.