Walls Of Fire

• Kisha Setia, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2017

The smell of smoke and burnt debris contaminated the air and made it hard to breathe. The sound of gunshots and explosions echoed through the shell of a burnt city that was now a brutal war zone. The expensive military weaponry felt heavy in my hands and the multiple explosive devices strapped to my heavily armoured uniform weighed down my movements. I ran through the scattered ruins and abandoned military camps towards our current base. I cleaned the ash off my face with the cuff of my jacket and pushed away a slab of cement that had once been part of the city theatre. As I neared the edge of the city I spotted my destination and quickened my pace until I reached the grimy ditch that acted as a makeshift home for any soldiers that survived the previous attack of the enemy. Some soldiers were teetering on the edge of life and death but were holding on for the sake of their loved ones back home. As I stumbled towards an empty bunk I felt warm blood ooze out of my bullet wound and trickle down my leg staining the material of my pants with a deep crimson shade. I sat down on the empty bunk, reached under it and pulled out a bulky red and white first aid kit. I swung open the lid of the old and rusty box and pulled out a smaller container that had the word ‘cotton’ engraved on the top. I opened the box and pulled out a handful of soft white cotton and started the slow and painful task of cleaning my injury. When my wound stopped bleeding I reached into the first aid kit and pulled out a bandage for my leg. I wrapped it around the injured area and lowered the leg of my pants. I slowly rose from the bunk and staggered toward the ladder that was used to climb out of the base. I knew I needed to rest my leg but rest was a luxury I had thrown away when I signed my name to help fight the war against Germany and its allies. Nobody knew if the war was ever going to end. Some hoped that the countries would stop fighting and live in peace but most believed that the armies had been fighting so long that life had no meaning for them anymore and all they had was a thirst for victory and the hope that they will finally return to their family and friends. As I looked into the smoke filled sky I remembered the life I had before wwii. Filling meals, fresh water and no worry that the second you turn around a grenade will be thrown at your feet. All I have here is canned food and a bucket of water and the struggle of surviving but a war is never that easy.