Rūma Mangō - Room 2

Some of our Anzac stories.

Dear Diary,

Today was a rollercoaster of emotions. We called a truce early in the day, to bury the thousands of dead bodies spread out across the war grounds, and at one point, I came face to face with one of the turks. He was quite tall with what I believe was black hair but it could just be all the dirt mixed in with grease and gunpowder. His facial appearance was blocked by all the blood, sweat n’ tears he had all over his body and clothes. I stood tiger for a minute, just wondering how he actually felt. Did he feel the same as me? Sad, tired, wondering if he’ll ever see his family alive? I could see it in his eyes, pain, not like the type where you stub your toe, or bang your head on the wall, actual pain. Most likely grief of losing someone close to your heart. I wanted to say something, anything to… help.. I suppose. But I couldn't. I then suddenly hear a canon blast coming from across the ditch. I looked at this man one more time, then lowered my head and turned away. I walked away and so did he. As I was walking, I turned back to see the man shuffling
sorely, back to the trenches. I turned back around but was caught off guard by a bullet fired right at my chest. At the moment I'm sitting in my hospital bed, waiting for news. Just writing in my diary to pass the time as writing to my Mother back home will just give her more stress not to mention the farm she has to run all on her own. Oh, and it looks like nurse Marie is coming, she's very nice. We're actually quite good mates now and it turns out we live in the same place too! Anyway, update ya soon.
Harry

By Emma

Long Way From Dunedin

The boat sways up and down in the water. I stare up at the cliff face, muzzle flashes are faintly visible in the distance. I start hyperventilating, I feel like I’m about to be sick “I… I can’t do this” I blurt out. Someone hits me hard across the face “Get a grip of yourself!” he shouts. I try to calm myself, still panicking “O-... ok” “Over the sides!” my commander shouts.

I stare down at the pitch black water, then force myself over. I can’t see a thing in the water. I push my head up and try to catch up to the soldiers in front of me. What am I doing here? I can’t feel my legs its so cold. My uniform is weighing down into the sea. I make my way up to the shore trudging through the deep water. I can barely see anything. I can hear people screaming as well as loud bangs from the cliff face “Anavatan için!” A Turk shouts.

I stand there frozen for a few seconds, then sprint towards the cliff face, hoping to find a trench. I’m faintly able to make out something I hope is a trench. I switch my brain off and clamber in. To my relief it is a trench, right under the cliff face as well. I stare up at the flashes streaking across the nighttime sky. In my disarray I fix my bayonet to my rifle and try to run up the hill towards the Ottoman firing lines. But it wasn’t as easy as I thought it’d be. I trip over a sharp rock and twist my ankle, it was later revealed I’d broken it. I have to muffle my scream so they don’t notice me.

I limp my way to the top of the cliff, I see a young Ottoman soldier, doesn't look a day over 17. He reaches for his pistol to shoot me click click nothing, no ammo. He dropped it on the ground and put his hands in the air “please… let live” he shakily said in broken English. I looked at my bayonet, then back at him “I HATE YOU!” I scream. I thrust my gun back and stab him in the heart. His blood flies out onto my hands. He stares dead into my eyes as I remove the weapon and he drops to the ground.

I fall to my knees next to the body and stare down at my blood stricken hands “what have I done?” I whisper. I went on to survive the war, made it home, but never healed. That day would haunt me until the day I died

-By Charlie

Sorry, Ma.

The colourful posters started to fill my hometown of Christchurch. Red, blue and white “Go serve the Empire” the posters loudly explained, the posters said nothing about age.

As I walked down to Mainstreet to go “enlist” or something at the building, two men confronted me. One tall with big tattoos looks like he could snap me in half and on his left a shorter stockier man. “Why don't you just go back to school or something?” the tall man loudly protested.

“Yeah what are you like 5.2” he said, wheezing. “I'm 5.7” I muttered under my breath. “You coming to enlist or buy bread for your mumma and dada?” the shorter guy said, not even trying to hold back his laughter. I walked into the building ignoring their mockery.

There was a man sitting in a wooden chair, his head bald with a sharp face that commands respect. “Are you 18 son? If you are, are you ready for a big adventure around the world?” he said with a thick Scottish accent. A big adventure sounded cool. “Yes, I'm 18” I blurted out in excitement. “We leave in 5 days. Be at the South Port at 4am” I thought that was early, but for an adventure I'd do anything.

When we loaded up on the ships my mother tried to stop me “There's people dying please don’t go! She stamped but I ignored her. All my friends are going. I can't chicken out now.

At 11:38 we landed, bullets and explosions soared through the sky.

I've never seen anything like this. Then a huge ball of fire and an eruption of red shrapnel hits my chest. The pain was unbearable. I thought of my mum and said “sorry Ma”.

Everything went dark…

By Paxton

The Boy Who Went to War

Henry O’Conner sat down in the sandy desert of Giza along with the other Australian and New Zealand troops whilst their training Commander barked at them “this guys full of it” a man whispered to him “I doubt we’ll need to speak Turkish when they’re shooting at us!” he continued. Henry nodded in silent agreement.

Weeks later they landed on small boats,

a little dog they had kept as a mascot nicknamed Honor whined in fear, pa-kow! A man crumpled downward into the Aegean sea, never to see the light of day again.

More and more men fell before Henry. Like everybody else who survived the ordeal he dove into the icy water barely keeping his rifle above rocking waves. He waded as fast as possible with his heavy woolen uniform dragging him down.

The next day Henry had made friends with two men; Charlie Cully and Bob Dunn. Bob almost got himself killed in hand to hand combat with a huge slice on his chest, without knowing the horrors inside Charlie and Henry agreed to visit daily at the medical tent.

On the first visit Charlie retched at the sight. There were men with burns so horrid they were unrecognizable, finally they arrived at Bob’s musty second-hand cot where he was being treated by a nurse named Hazel Crawford. The dog Henry had seen on the land ships-Honor-was licking Bob's wounds.

When Bob was all healed up they had a major assault on the Ottoman’s frontlines where they were promised most would die. Charlie,Bob and Henry sprinted across the muddy field as each side exchanged fire machine guns whirring and troops screaming. An artillery shell exploded not too far away engulfing Bob, Henry looked back seeing no trace of his friend, turning back forwards and saw a bullet scream across the field laden with corpses. Time slowed and Henry thought of his dog Jimmy knowing he couldn't come back to him again. Finally the bullet made contact and Henry O’Conner fell, never to rise again.