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Authors: Margaret Tanner
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right?”
“Course I
am.” Danny clenched his hands behind his back so his friend would not see them
shaking. When the next lull in the firing came, Jim climbed out. Even Ernie
pulled himself together enough to help hoist the unconscious soldier onto Jim's
shoulders.
“Good luck,
keep a look out for Wally.” Jim took off at a trot.
After Jim
left, Danny, squatting down on his haunches, rubbed at the nervous sweat
beading his forehead.
“Jeez,
you’ve got guts,” Ernie said in awe. “They ought to give you a medal.”
“Yeah, I
should get a medal. Laurie would like that.”
They both
started laughing. Suddenly there was a scream of agony. Danny turned his head
to find Ernie with a gaping wound in his chest, clawing frantically at the air.
He sank to his knees then fell face down on the ground. He rolled his friend
over and Ernie's blood pumped all over him. Within seconds he lay dead.
“Bastards.”
In a blind rage, screaming his hatred, he started out of the trench. He charged
towards the enemy lines, but before he had gone more than a few yards, Turkish
bullets mowed him down.
And another
young soldier lay dead.
* * *
The
announcement of a landing at Gallipoli in the Dardanelles
was splashed across every newspaper in the country. The ANZACs, as the
Australian and New Zealanders were now being called, landed on the twenty-fifth
of April, 1915. This place called Gallipoli, a place most of the population had
never before heard of, hovered on everyone's lips.
Laurie
could not help it. After the first few days, she read the casualty lists like
thousands of others. The number of dead and wounded on that fateful day was in
the hundreds, but as the days went by, the casualties mounted to a horrific
number. There were thousands of names.
* * *
It was a
dull morning, the sky hung heavy with sullen clouds, and Laurie felt a sense of
foreboding. Some instinct warned her that after today she would never be quite
the same again. She was in the kitchen preparing afternoon tea when her father
walked in, pale and agitated.
“Sit down,
Laurie, I've got bad news. Danny has been killed in action. The government
notified Alf. I'm sorry.”
“No. It
isn't true.” She sank to her knees and began rocking backwards and forwards,
her grief so deep she couldn’t even cry. All she could do was moan like a
tortured animal. A piece of her heart had suddenly died. Danny had promised to
come back and they were going to get married. Now he was gone. Her dreams were
shattered. Her innocence destroyed by three little words. Killed In Action. She
was left with nothing but memories, and regret for what might have been.
Finally she
staggered to her feet. “I'm going for a walk,” she whispered, touching her
father’s hand to reassure him when she read the fear in his eyes. “I'll be all
right, Dad, I won’t do anything foolish but I have to be alone for a while.”
She left
the shop, stumbling up the street, shoulders hunched. At the bridge she stood staring into the water with tear-filled
eyes. Danny, her laughing young soldier, was dead.
* * *
A few days
later, a military letter arrived, postmarked from Alexandria. She stared at it in puzzlement.
The bold, black handwriting didn’t belong to Danny. The letter, when she opened
it, was dated March 1915.
Dear Laurie,
I was very pleased to receive your letter, and
hope you will be able to spare me a few lines now and again. I have still
received no word from Helen and hope she is well. After writing numerous
letters, none of which were answered, I am afraid I have reached the conclusion
that her feelings for me are not as strong as mine are for her.
It gets freezing here in the desert at night,
Laurie, just thinking of Helen comforts and warms me. I've never been an outgoing sort of chap, and my existence, before meeting Helen was
solitary and rather dull. I shall never be as bright or social as she is, but
they say opposites attract, which
“Course I
am.” Danny clenched his hands behind his back so his friend would not see them
shaking. When the next lull in the firing came, Jim climbed out. Even Ernie
pulled himself together enough to help hoist the unconscious soldier onto Jim's
shoulders.
“Good luck,
keep a look out for Wally.” Jim took off at a trot.
After Jim
left, Danny, squatting down on his haunches, rubbed at the nervous sweat
beading his forehead.
“Jeez,
you’ve got guts,” Ernie said in awe. “They ought to give you a medal.”
“Yeah, I
should get a medal. Laurie would like that.”
They both
started laughing. Suddenly there was a scream of agony. Danny turned his head
to find Ernie with a gaping wound in his chest, clawing frantically at the air.
He sank to his knees then fell face down on the ground. He rolled his friend
over and Ernie's blood pumped all over him. Within seconds he lay dead.
“Bastards.”
In a blind rage, screaming his hatred, he started out of the trench. He charged
towards the enemy lines, but before he had gone more than a few yards, Turkish
bullets mowed him down.
And another
young soldier lay dead.
* * *
The
announcement of a landing at Gallipoli in the Dardanelles
was splashed across every newspaper in the country. The ANZACs, as the
Australian and New Zealanders were now being called, landed on the twenty-fifth
of April, 1915. This place called Gallipoli, a place most of the population had
never before heard of, hovered on everyone's lips.
Laurie
could not help it. After the first few days, she read the casualty lists like
thousands of others. The number of dead and wounded on that fateful day was in
the hundreds, but as the days went by, the casualties mounted to a horrific
number. There were thousands of names.
* * *
It was a
dull morning, the sky hung heavy with sullen clouds, and Laurie felt a sense of
foreboding. Some instinct warned her that after today she would never be quite
the same again. She was in the kitchen preparing afternoon tea when her father
walked in, pale and agitated.
“Sit down,
Laurie, I've got bad news. Danny has been killed in action. The government
notified Alf. I'm sorry.”
“No. It
isn't true.” She sank to her knees and began rocking backwards and forwards,
her grief so deep she couldn’t even cry. All she could do was moan like a
tortured animal. A piece of her heart had suddenly died. Danny had promised to
come back and they were going to get married. Now he was gone. Her dreams were
shattered. Her innocence destroyed by three little words. Killed In Action. She
was left with nothing but memories, and regret for what might have been.
Finally she
staggered to her feet. “I'm going for a walk,” she whispered, touching her
father’s hand to reassure him when she read the fear in his eyes. “I'll be all
right, Dad, I won’t do anything foolish but I have to be alone for a while.”
She left
the shop, stumbling up the street, shoulders hunched. At the bridge she stood staring into the water with tear-filled
eyes. Danny, her laughing young soldier, was dead.
* * *
A few days
later, a military letter arrived, postmarked from Alexandria. She stared at it in puzzlement.
The bold, black handwriting didn’t belong to Danny. The letter, when she opened
it, was dated March 1915.
Dear Laurie,
I was very pleased to receive your letter, and
hope you will be able to spare me a few lines now and again. I have still
received no word from Helen and hope she is well. After writing numerous
letters, none of which were answered, I am afraid I have reached the conclusion
that her feelings for me are not as strong as mine are for her.
It gets freezing here in the desert at night,
Laurie, just thinking of Helen comforts and warms me. I've never been an outgoing sort of chap, and my existence, before meeting Helen was
solitary and rather dull. I shall never be as bright or social as she is, but
they say opposites attract, which
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