Creative Writing: The July Moon

Hello, this is Kelsey Maley reporting from a battlefield in France during spring of 1914. As you can most likely hear, the battle is booming behind us. The gunshots and cannon fires can be heard from miles away. From where I am standing one can also hear the cries and screams, and running horse hooves from the war below. Looking down we can see the khaki and grey uniforms either riding horses or hiding in trenches and with guns or swords. It is hard to concentrate on these men in uniforms because of the dirt and smoke covering the air around them. Walking up here is difficult because of the bumps in the ground. One may be able to feel the rumbling and shaking ground every time a cannon is fired. Each side is obeying the screams from their comandor

Bullets whizzed over their heads, spat out from the german machine gun.James sat crouched with his back pressed against the sludgy wall of the trench.The clouds covered the sky like a dark blanket, not a single sunray to be seen.James forcefully ripped a grenade off the coughing corpse next to him, he pitied the poor soul choking on gas, noticing the crimson puddle his head was surrounded by. He cocked the hammer of his revolver, took aim and abolished his misery He threw explosive holding on to the ring. A few moments passed and silence filled the air.

Swords crashed against shields like a field of doors slamming shut in the wind. Arrows whistled through the air; a murder of tiny crows swarming above us vulnerable soldiers. The grunts of men impaled by hafts and sliced open by steel join the cacophony of a battle raging into dusk. Wet warmness would splash across me in response to the dying cries of my comrades as one after another of those we battle would push our shields apart and break the line. The ground was wet and sloppy, dried earth had been turned to slush by a rain that did not fall from the sky. The ground was rendered difficult to manoeuvre through, encumbered by the lifeless figures of soldiers now without the allegiance that lead them to a face in the dirt.

After abandoning the camp we stumbled across the country side and found a house. As we sit by the wall, we think about our fellow soldiers now in heaven. I look up to the sky to see shepherds delight or more like the resemblance of the blood of the abandoned. Why everyone was quiet, I don’t know. There probably just tired from the great determination. Many of us seeking an end but will be disappointed and become depressed. Trepidation of death has occurred in several of us.

You have successfully entered enemy territory. You and the other recon soldiers have crossed the distance of open plain, skirted the barbed wire, and are close to the enemy trenches. You all lie on your stomachs in the mud, rifles in hand. So far, the going is good. You don’t seem to have been spotted, and no shouts of alarm split the air.

After the battle of Somme, I was alone. All the men I had signed up with were gone. There was no time to grieve for them; Our division had to meet up with the others at Vimy Ridge. Immediately, we were handed maps of the Ridge. It was odd. We all had our own map to keep and study and we were explained exactly what to do. We even had to go through a scale model to know the lay of the land. Talk about overkill. It was nerve racking because of our tactic called a Creeping Barrage. After firing shells at the Germans for three weeks straight, we slowly aimed higher and higher while we followed the line of fire slowly. That way, the Germans would not be able to leave the trenches until it was too late. In those days that lead to a victory, Canada

By March 1915 the influx of refugees from Belgium was almost at an end and Epworth played host to a social reunion consisting of games, dancing, and songs to bring together all those who had been housed in the Isle. Part of the entertainment featured songs from Mrs. W. Hirst and Mrs. R. Stephenson and a pianoforte solo by Mrs. Breeze. The month saw farmers becoming increasingly rueful; the fine weather created ideal growing conditions but a shortage of men and horse hampered progress. Indeed, there was concern that horses in the Isle were being ‘worked to death in order to make up for the lack of numbers.’ Members of the Belton VTC celebrated the opening of their new rifle range where Mr. G. H. Newborn exhorted them to use it well to learn

Both local newspapers began to signal, albeit discretely, that war could be approaching its end. Reports spoke in guarded terms about German difficulties and in the ‘Letters to the Editor’ columns, there were encouraging words, leaving readers in no doubt that a resolution was close. Talk in shops and at church services built on the speculation. When news of the imminent German surrender reached soldiers in the front line it was greeted with silence. ‘We did not cheer,’ one soldier recalled. ‘We just stood, stunned and bewildered.’ He continued: ‘On the stroke of 11a.m. the CO raised his hand and told us that the war was over. Then we cheered, with our tin hats on and our rifles held aloft. For old hands like me, it was funny realising that the day we had waited so long for had come at

At some point, their ears had finally given in to the echoing shots and yells and had dulled to the point where they could barely hear anything at all. The students - cut, bruised and bloodied - lay upon the ground. Dead or hiding. Hoping for mercy, for that’s all they had left to hope for.

“After defeating the Cyclops Polyphemus, my men grew exhausted. They grew thirsty from rowing under the beating hot sun. Sweat dripped down their heads and the ship’s deck grew moist from the mix of the salty, seawater and sweat. We stopped by on a nearby island.

(G) This war is starting to really affect my men. (C) I understand George but, I cannot give you my men. (G) Yes General I know you can’t and I will not force you. I just ask that you think about it not for me, but for the people. (C) As you wish George, I will think about it but do not get your hopes up. (G) Thank you General and I will not. (C) Your welcome George. How is your wife doing? I haven’t spoken with her in a while. (G) Thank you for asking she is doing just fine I will let her know you asked. (C) So George, what is your next attack plan? (G) I am not fully sure there General, it is as if the British can read my mind. They are always alert on the attacks. I was planning a surprise attack but I am not so sure if I should go on with it now.

I heard it. Beneath the ground, behind the walls I heard it. Echoing screams of sorrow, visions of the dead, a wildfire of disease, a contagious Earth. The scattered debris of humanity’s tallest skyscrapers crumbled in heaps of stone. The splintered glass of humanity’s greatest architectural feats laid scattered in on the roads. The canvas of humanity’s greatest artworks scraped beyond recognition and laid defeated. This was our future. Nothing could’ve prevented it.

It was February 23, 1939 Austria a young adult was taken away from his home and his casual day to day life. The second world war. Was taking place. We were swarmed into the streets and being taken out. People in confusion as to why these German soldiers are constantly yelling at us

Twin sanguine moons in linear descent slip below the planetary line; dawn awakens upon a desolate beachscape. Mountainous shadows in stealth retreat cross a guttered seabed eluding morns ethereal incandesce. Silver water, bereft of sound, licks its way back toward the horizon. Cloistered beneath a cliff, scarred with the age of millennia, day’s first resplendent rays drip into a cavernous underground grotto. From the Cimmerian shade, falters a hunched being more deathlike than living, shrouded in tattered garb. Falling hard against the obsidian granite arch, he rests. A weathered forehead presses into pitted rock, sticky lungs suck in salt dipped air. With rasped exhalation he propels himself upright. Spindle legs wobble akin to a new

The blare of saxophones, trombones, and trumpets exploded over the ballroom hum of muffled voices. Young couples crowded the dance floor as the band broke out in a lively rendition of Glenn Miller’s popular hit, “In the Mood.”