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wartime grandad

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English Coursework by Kiarnie camp He thinks he knows everything. Ever since Nan died all he seems to do is criticise me. It doesn't help that everything about being near him is so awkward. I've never really talked to my Grandad. He has always just been the gruff; purple-faced old man sat in the corner...there has to be a reason for his stubbornness. Blinded by my temper, I stormed up into the loft...and here I am hiding in the darkness. I often come up here, to escape from the world. I feel closer to my Nan; the warm scent of her perfume looms in the air. I don't even like lavender, but it's so soothing. Darkness overwhelmed the room so I carried a small torch. Whilst weeping over the lost memories of yesterday the light fell upon a smallish brown box. Not like one I had ever seen before, it was old, mystical and well, almost indescribable. Curiosity beckoned me, like a moth drawn to a flame I moved towards it...and so it began... The brown box was laden in dust, as though it had been there years. I gently swept my hand across it, removing the dust and revealing tiny engraved letters. I shone the torch upon it; it read "William Edward Maddocks, Wartime Memories"... ...read more.


I also told her about my argument with Grandad, and the wartime photos. She never said anything for a while, just sat there, then whispered blankly "impossible...impossible". "Oh God" I thought "now everyone is going to think im mad!" however moments later she exclaimed "but I totally believe you!" and came and gave me a big warm hug, telling me her name was May but I was to call her auntie May. Later that evening, she gave me a place to stay and told me all about the war. It sounded terrible, yet exciting and adventurous! She also told me about all the brave and respected soldiers that signed up in the city hall...and I got a few ideas... I arose early next morning writing auntie May a letter telling her that I would no longer be staying with her. I was upset about leaving such a lovely lady, but it had to be done. I then made my way to the city hall. I was going to join the army. I felt extremely nervous and I had funny feelings in the pit of my stomach like moths. I kept telling myself I had to be strong though, that I could finally prove to Grandad I was worth something. Moments later it was done...was it really that hard? ...read more.


"Go..." I whispered "But..." he whimpered "Just go!"...then total darkness... "James...James!"...my eyes opened...I seemed to be in a familiar dark room. "James are you up there?"...Grandad! I was alive! I wearily sat up. My eyes had become accustomed to the darkness and I could see the scattered photographs of the wartime memories. Then once again it hit me...was I just in a war? Did that really just happen? Whatever it was the hellish place sent shivers down my spine. "James?" and up came my Grandad. I told him about my experience in the war and apologised right away for the dispute which took place earlier that day. He then began to show more emotion than he had for 15 years...and cried. "That's how you come to have your name dear grandson...my friend who died on that fateful day took part of me with him, how could I have been such a terrible friend to have left him? So I thought I'd honour him by keeping the memories of him alive, and it has worked, for you are the total identical to him." He croaked. I tried to explain that it was me but he wouldn't accept it. "We had better get that bump on the head of yours checked out..." and off he plodded to call the doctor. I guess he will never truly know. Now I know the reason for his stubbornness and that the troubles and toils of war has changed a once innocent mind. ...read more.

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