Year 7 ANZAC Writing

8 September 1915

The morning bugle sounded and it felt too early for us in the trenches but before it even finished the first shell had already hit. The Turks only 50 meters away had thrown a cascade of hand grenades. Many of us died even the person beside me died. The smell of fire and gas was terrible but that was on top of all the rotting bodies. I had a minor wound on my side but the commander was yelling orders to fire back at the opposition we climbed the ladders towards the Turks. The Turks would fire back some of us were lucky that day some not so much. they would fire bombs from their mortars blowing up deep holes in the soft muddy ground from all the endless rain. Some people took the full force of the bombs and would be thrown into the air the General would called orders to retreat and move toward the newly dug trench a little further back. 

The war was terrifying. My mates and diggers were shipped off back to Britain with serious injuries one of my best mates has died but I couldn't grieve or do anything to help them because the war was just too much of a blur. The noise was unbearable the bombs and explosions the gunfire the screaming of the dying soldiers. I rummage through my pack to find my biscuits and bully beef. We can only do so much to defeat the turks but I'm not so sure. I try to get as much sleep a possible but as soon as I close my eyes the screaming and explosions BOOM ARGH fill my head and my eyes crack open again. I’m shivering with cold from the cold bone chilling rain endlessly I can’t wait for the summer. That's all for today I'll try to get in again another time…  Leo 

Isn’t it strange how different things were a few months ago? I was living my normal life. My family wasn’t rich and wasn’t poor, and our cottage wasn’t big and wasn’t small. But the main thing was that we were happy.

Now, war has been declared, and I am halfway across the world in Gallipoli, fighting for my life.

I knew I had to sign up. I would never have wanted to, but my father pushed me into the decision. He told me, “I raised you so you would grow up to be a strong, wise young man. You know the right thing to do. You must go out there to represent your country. I will not take ‘no’ for an answer.”

I got a telegram from my mother yesterday. Oh, my dear mother. I miss her already. And I miss my brothers and sisters too. Even cheeky little John who loves to remonstrate by kicking me hard upon the shin whenever I do not listen to him. If I ever get the chance to see the sun after the war, I will make sure there’s a fine chance that he won’t come near me!

I still have a long way to go to get to that standard, though. War is scarier than I first imagined. I lay in the trenches silently, looking around and taking in everything.

The surroundings were very bland. For miles and miles, I could see grey, steep, rugged hills. Thousands of men were trying to scramble up the hills, avoiding the chaos that rained down before them.

What chaos it was! I could see a boat out on the water that had been upturned. On the way over, I was terrified that would happen to our boat, as the weight of our packs would be far too much for the boat to handle.

It was blind luck, the way we escaped onshore without being spotted. I trampled over thousands of wounded men and bodies lying there on the shore, waiting for the ships arriving. Supplies were being landed. It was absolute mayhem.

Suddenly, I heard a familiar sound. A rat-tat-tat-tat popping of guns. They’d found us!

25th April 1915 by Emma 

Dear Diary,

As I kneel under the ash and clay, shells pound down from the sky, it feels like hell down here. I had a few coins in my pocket which saved me from a bullet almost ending my life. It's been a horrific time in the trenches and many disasters have happened. My friend got shot right in the eye and is getting treated right now. Butterflies are rotating in my stomach and my hands are trembling. My brain finally commemorated what was happening. I flickered back to all the happy times I had, but this was the end of it. This is grime. This is punishment. This is WAR, no training session, just war. Why do I deserve this? I thought. I hunted my brain down to find why I had even grown up. Why didn’t I stay as a child? I trembled as we clambered out of the trenches. Gunshots fired and shells rained down like hail. I am petrified, everyone is petrified but WE are doing this for New Zealand and WE are prepared to make this sacrifice to take Gallipoli.

6th May 1916

Dear Diary,

I haven't written in a while, but I haven't been able to.

We soldiers are still holding fire, but under attack hard.

My right arm had a fracture in it and I was treated by a medic on the deathining ride. Up, down, up, down, I had just about had enough of that. The last post was being heard day and night and my ears were screaming at me.

23 October 1916

Dear Diary,

I am now ready for fighting as we all plough relentlessly on. I really want to drag back in this war and I’m just going to hide in the trenches and go to sleep. I’ll write again soon. - Stuart

July 20th Tuesday 1915.

Hottest month of the year, dare I say, ground cracked and crumbled under foot, blazing heat from the sun burns your skin if we weren't careful. Smells of dead and suffering corpses still lingers, depressed souls griefing over the people that sadly passed. No one could settle and if they did Bang! Their body would collapse on the ground. John Smith, my oldest friend, got shot by an awful sniper till dead. Lifeless, hopeless and full of sorrow on the first day- horrible really. Unsurprisingly, all hopes and dreams of a great and heroic adventure were ripped out of our minds as reality struck us with it’s sharp and painful sword, powered by hell. It’s been about three months since the departure. My diggers and me have been strained of all molecules of moisture -  every part of us is aching mentally and physically. Heavy fire in the distance made the rubble on the ground quiver as some of our mates tried to enter enemy territory. Five went and one came back waiting for the next boat to take him to the nursery with two limbs gone. On the hill what we call baby 700- it was just such a ferocious  fight up there, we were gaining and losing ground -the Turks are so powerful. The smell of gas was just ghastly. Rotten meat could also be smelled if you had the guts to remember the dead by going under the cliff where the wounded rest and some died. No training could possibly train us for this. This is war no one can escape the truth. The feeling of the war being dragged on  is enough to make any conversation tense and dreadful -not even puppies could lighten the mood. This unsuccessful war is like bows and arrows vs lightning. All of a sudden a bomb came  too close so the order came for us to go under, spiders bugs and all different kinds of rodents scrambled across the floor screeching every time.  I’m signing off, Jefferson A.W    By Evie 

23rd August 1916,

The British empire launched against the war in Gallipoli, I’ve been in the battlefield three times since I last talked to you, I’m homesick but I’m lucky to still be alive, unlike my best friend… He died yesterday, it was all so sudden and everyone acted like it was normal.

24th August

The trenches fill up with rain. Muddy water filling up above our knees, It’s hard to move throughout the water. There's a few rat floats within it, the war must end soon, none of us can bare it anymore, Not being with our families, the loss of our friends.

st September 1916,

I haven’t heard a reply from you, they’ve shredded all the recent letters. We’re moving around a bit and have to leave some things behind. I’ve kept your last responses I hope I get to see the next ones.

8th September 1916,

I finally got your letter, im happy to see your handwriting. I only have a few friends left now. I haven't slept in a while maybe not since I write my last letter. I’m A bit shocked by the war, it’s cold,muddy and gloomy, every minute these soldiers are fighting for their lives.

I will see you soon I know it.   By Lili