Thursday, 17 April 2014

Luke's ANZAC poem

Artillery fire raining down rats scurrying past. The young men praying for their lives. Blood, sweat, mud and tears fill the trenches. Screams snaking through the air. Young men signing up to join the war thinking it was going to be an adventure, thought it be cool to have a sense of duty. Then they had to run towards the enemy lines. 50 men running towards the enemy lines one after the other falling. I stood up to the front of the trench the whistle blew I ran. Everyone around me is falling to the ground then suddenly I felt pain and I fell to the ground. Everything was cold.

simple.wikipedia.org

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