Terror

• Jordan George Jackson, Grade 4
• Short Story
• 2021

Life is so easy to lose. I saw my life flashing before my eyes on the battlefield. Everything was dark, no compassion and no guarantee of going back home. It was difficult leaving mum and dad, going to fight for our nation.
ANZAC’s. The name we were given, as we walked together as an army onto the grounds of Gallipoli.
The land looked like a forest, great hiding spots. We could hear people squabbling behind us, as we started to get our camps ready. The war was the most devastating part killing many of our brave and loyal soldiers. I clung onto my life thinking of my mother who had said “You are my warrior, Charlie! You’ll survive a small war” but I knew it was more than small. Luckily, I survived now I am sitting on the large and stinking boat which carried the load of brave survivors, but some lay helplessly injured, I looked at them compassionately, imagining how their families are so lucky for them to be alive.
I could hear screams in the background, not like the ones of sorrow but of happiness and they sounded almost like home. As I was taken across the deck towards my proud parents screaming as they ran towards me. They were proud to have their son come back intact.