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A Day At The Beach (A Story About A Soldier In Training Before A War, The War Is Not Specified Unabling The Reader To Use Their Imagination) (Writing To Entertain)

892 words - 4 pages

The countryside was alive with life and colour. All the jewelled colours of therainbow, like butterflies on the tips of beautiful plants and trees lazily shaking in a warm, light Devon breeze; most of the roads had been covered by ancient willows, their branches archingover like great bridges, grasses rustling against their boughs. On the other side of theembracing willows was a shelving, inviting, golden sandy bank. The sea a haven for allwildlife; the glistening fish visible from the beach. The last of the day's warm sunlight wasshining, calmly beautiful, on our backs."Fire!" All our guns opened up. The gunnery officer had us charging, full pace, overthe sand-dunes. Those sand-dunes! If I was a blind man I reckon I could still feel my way over them to our exact positions again."Fire!" As I shot my rifle my stomach rumbled; it was almost tea time. Then up andcharging over the sand-dunes again. Sometimes I felt as if I was going to run up and down thesand-dunes for the rest of my life, only having breaks for tea.We'd become fit, though. Fit, tough and ready. We'd need to be ready. We knew it was coming, knew that we weren't really all going to grow old running up and down sand-dunes. It was coming and coming soon.We moved that night. Into trucks, thirty at a time. Full burgeons, rifles, everythingclanking and knocking together. Into the truck, falling over feet, tin cups, rifles. Squashing upas close as we could. "Move, you lazy slob", "Get off my foot, Lardy", "Stop hogging all thespace in the corner".Off we went. Bumping through the dark lanes, in the dark night. Good-bye lovelyDevon. Good-bye quiet nights. Good-bye safety.The mistily fading willows formed eerie silhouettes in the background. Effortlessly #swooping from the dark skies, an owl, eyes dangerously glowing, arrow-like in its direction of an evening mouse. The owl re-entered the night with only the merest hint of noise; a gentlescreech of it's victim; the uncertain wind was blowing leaves before it as if in puffs from abellows; the truck lights flashed off a fox's wide eyes.Through the dark night we went. Crammed onto the uncomfortable seats. Everybodywas quiet. Even Jones, the squadron joker, hadn't said a word. The only words I heard spokenthat night were, "Ere, Jimmy, lend us a light". It was so quiet I could hear the fear.Portsmouth was in an awful state. The skyline was broken and jagged. Buildingswere half-bombed and blowing out fire. Then there was the smoke. Thick, invasive smoke. Itfilled your nose, made your eyes sore and even noises seemed to be muffled.Suddenly the truck screeched to a halt and Sergeant told us to take...

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