War

• Tejas Pillai, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2018

I floundered off the boat and thudded and onto the rough sand. All I heard was the heinous sound of bombs going off in the distance and the breathing of my own breath. When I looked around I saw all my comrades surging onward, stepping over the hordes of dead soldiers that were butchered by the Turks. I picked myself off the ground and then did the same. Bodies were littered on the ground in front of me which filled me with so much anguish, but it simply convinced me to go on and endure the hardship. I scrambled quickly up the death-defying hill and pulled myself to the top, but the Turks were waiting for me. I quickly shot my gun and killed him. His blood spewed out of the wound and he didn’t move. All my comrades are now at the top of the hill massacring the remaining Turks. We jumped into the trenches and discovered the squalor in which they fought in. I rushed back down the hill and surveyed the battle-field. It wasn’t pretty, the sea ran red with blood and some of the survivors were looking for anyone else who was alive, but they’re looking in vain. I then realised how much lives we lost compared to the Turks. We hadn’t won, we had lost.