Torn Both Ways
The noise was growing louder and louder. Suddenly a scream of mechanical chaos flooded the air, it was an air raid siren I jumped out of my chair and ran up the rickety stairs towards the bedroom where my parents were at the radio. Mum was frantically trying to find the right frequency with little success. The war had been uneventful until now, some people had called it the phony war but now it appears to be the real thing. My parents twisted sharply with a look of fear as their eyes shot to the wide open door, "James, do you hear the noise? It sounds like an airplane". Suddenly the house shook as if the ground was moving from under it, bombs fell as if being thrown by the Gods. The radio fell from the table as the voice, which came from it extinguished with the impact. The noise went on and on until the buzzing noise faded away, the war was now official and I would be made to fight in it.
My mother couldn't bear the thought of me being killed and suggested I tried to get a job such as a policeman so I could stay with my parents but I was inexperienced and had no option but to fight. I thought many times about running away, away from the war, away from my parents, to a place who's country wouldn't force me to kill men who had never done me any wrong. I had to do what was expected of me and so I joined the army. The last time I saw my parents was on the bus to the training barracks's, remember the look in my parents eyes, of bloodshot tears as they cried of the injustice we were enduring. Any happiness of mine died that day, along with my will to live. I tried to keep in contact with my family through letters but the army censored them and they didn't always reach them anyway. After a few months I decided that the letters from their only child would do more harm than good since I only talked of false victories and bearable times, which they certainly were not, and anyway I felt, I would be dead in a matter of time.
The noise was growing louder and louder. Suddenly a scream of mechanical chaos flooded the air, it was an air raid siren I jumped out of my chair and ran up the rickety stairs towards the bedroom where my parents were at the radio. Mum was frantically trying to find the right frequency with little success. The war had been uneventful until now, some people had called it the phony war but now it appears to be the real thing. My parents twisted sharply with a look of fear as their eyes shot to the wide open door, "James, do you hear the noise? It sounds like an airplane". Suddenly the house shook as if the ground was moving from under it, bombs fell as if being thrown by the Gods. The radio fell from the table as the voice, which came from it extinguished with the impact. The noise went on and on until the buzzing noise faded away, the war was now official and I would be made to fight in it.
My mother couldn't bear the thought of me being killed and suggested I tried to get a job such as a policeman so I could stay with my parents but I was inexperienced and had no option but to fight. I thought many times about running away, away from the war, away from my parents, to a place who's country wouldn't force me to kill men who had never done me any wrong. I had to do what was expected of me and so I joined the army. The last time I saw my parents was on the bus to the training barracks's, remember the look in my parents eyes, of bloodshot tears as they cried of the injustice we were enduring. Any happiness of mine died that day, along with my will to live. I tried to keep in contact with my family through letters but the army censored them and they didn't always reach them anyway. After a few months I decided that the letters from their only child would do more harm than good since I only talked of false victories and bearable times, which they certainly were not, and anyway I felt, I would be dead in a matter of time.
