Remembrance Day 2020

Remembrance Day Work in Creative Writing Club inspired by a reading of Carol Ann Duffy’s poem ‘The Wound in Time’ and director Danny Boyle’s ‘Pages of the Sea’ – a commemoration of the WW1 Centenary in 2018.

November 2020

Danny Boyle's Pages of the Sea: https://youtu.be/aMgUE2Lg79E

Here are some samples of students’ work: 

Forever Forgotten by Amy P - Y9

   A tall man ran over the top of a trench. His mind was racing. Every few seconds he heard a scream and a thud. He dared not look. Barbed wire was slicing men's bodies as they fell lifeless upon it. He slowed to a stop by a shell crater and stared. All around him was death. Nothing else. In that moment, he realized what he was fighting. This wasn’t the war to end all wars, this was nothing but a blood-soaked massacre. He slumped to his knees, not caring about the cold or wet.

   He heard a shout of pain. Slowly he looked into the crater. He looked scared- the man he found in there. Not mean or cruel- but scared and hurt. He was sinking down in a mixture of quicksand and bones. He screamed in an ineligible tongue. Everything seemed to stop- everything besides the tears in the man's eyes. The deafening bombs where nothing to his ears as he stared at the man.

   Realizing what he could do to help the man, he broke. Tears soaked the earth. Cold, hard metal was clenched in his hand. He choked on his own spit and gripped the metal so harshly that his hands bled. The man cried in pain. He looked into his eyes. One was glazed over, and that side of his face was mutilated. His skin was melting of off his face- exposing the bone.

   He squeezed his eyes shut. They stung. He couldn’t do it. But he had to. He was in pain. He was suffering. He stared at him once more. Thinking - begging - that there was another way to save him. He raised his hand, the thing feeling heavier than what he was about to do. The noise deafened him. A shell fell near him. All he did was look at the man's face. He looked at peace.

   Washes of pain and guilt flew through him as he watched him sink until there was nothing left. The weight of what he did made him crumble. Sounds seemed to deafen him, but he was never relieved from the man. The bang replayed within his head - torturing his every breath. The ground rumbled and smoke raised a few meters away.

   Almost limp, he crawled over to the pit, staring into its deathtrap. He stumbled into his knees. He reached for the piece of metal. He placed it just between his eyes. How at peace he was going to be.

   He distantly heard the shot as his body went numb. All thoughts and worries left him as he fell forward to his grave-

Forever Forgotten

My Little Town by Cerys H – Y8                                                                                              

 I was a bystander watching the war

I didn’t have much, I was quite poor

But the little town I lived in, it was still home

And now that it’s gone, I am all alone

 

My little town was still waking when the bombs fell down

Panic ensued, and we all rushed out of town

I walked for miles, covering distance like a plough

And where my little town once stood, there’s just a crater now

 

And so my life continued, it dragged on and on

But I was not content, a part of me was gone

And every so often I dare to dream back

To the time I lived in my pretty little shack

A note from the poet:  It is called 'My Little Town' because the protagonist's town got bombed in the war and wherever they moved to they never felt the same, like part of them was missing.

Dear Mother by Kezia P

Dear mother

I’m on the front, can’t wait to get started!

Dear mother

These English are awfully hard to beat but we will do so

Dear mother

Another platoon was bombed today but colonel says there’s still hope

Dear mother

More blood today, why won’t they stop?

Dear mother

Don’t they have family too?

Dear mother

Why don’t they care?

Dear mother

What’s the point?

Dear mother.