we will remember them

8/10/2019 We Will Remember Them

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We Will

RememberThem

A collection of creative writing

by school pupils in Halesowen & Rowley RegisPublished by James Morris MP


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Contents

Foreword 3James Morris MP

Sopwith Camel 4

Izak Guy, Lapal Primary School

Your Country Needs You

The Soldier Boy 6

James Harcourt

The Earls High School

War 7

Fatimah Rehman

Ormiston Forge Academy

Life On The Front

Christmas 1914 9

Shakira Crump

Halesbury School

Lifes Rough In

The Trenches 10

Luke WilliamsHuntingtree Primary School

A Soldiers Diary 11

Imogen Ferrer

St Michaels CE High School

In The Trench 12

Caimen Blackwood

St Michaels CE High SchoolA Medics Journal 13

Olivia Waldron

Windsor High School

Casualties Of War

In Memory of

Frank Allen 15

Bethany Skidmore

Whiteheath Education Centre

The Fallen Soldier 16

Abigail Beulah

Lutley Primary School

The Loss Of A Friend 17

Gracie Winmill

Tenterelds Primary School

The Honourable Slaughter 18

Adam Stinchcombe

The Earls High School

Remembrance

Thank You Letter 20

Maddison Rudge

Our Lady & St Kenelm RC School

At The Eleventh Hour 21

Georgina Banks

Leasowes High School

Albatros D.I 22

Elliott Guy, Lapal Primary School


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Foreword

The anniversary of war is not

a time for celebration, but we

owe it to all those who served

to try to understand what they

were ghting for and what that

involved.

The men marching off to France

and Belgium in 1914 would

struggle to recognise much of the world we know today.

The sacrices made by so many soldiers ghting for King and

country, and by countless civilians at home and overseas, is now

almost unimaginable. Whilst millions of instances of incredible

bravery have passed without ever receiving the recognition that

they deserved, we do know of some acts that were astonishing

even against a daily backdrop of extraordinary heroism.I invited school pupils in Halesowen and Rowley Regis to

submit poems, diary entries and other creative writing, imagining

what life was like amongst those who served and those who

were left behind. I was overwhelmed by both the quantity and

the standard of the entries I received. This is a collection of the

very best, but there were many others that could also have been

included.

I hope that you will enjoy reading their work, and join them in

reecting on the experiences of those who gave so much for us.

We must show that the freedoms and values for which those

young men fought remain as dear to us as they were to them,

whilst thanking God that few of us will ever need to make the

sacrices made by those heroes who served.

James Morris MPHalesowen & Rowley Regis

November 2014

Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com


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Izak guyLapal Primary School

Role: Biplane ghter

Manufacturer: Sopwith Aviation

Company

Design: Herbert Smith

First ight: 22nd December1916

Introduction: June 1917

Retired: January 1920

Primary users: Royal Flying Corps;

Royal Naval Air;

Royal Air Force

Number built: 5490

The Sopwith Camel was a British WW1 single-seat biplane

ghter. It had a short-coupled fuselage and a heavy powerful

rotary engine. It had unmatched manoeuvrability.

The Camel shot 1294 German aircraft.


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The Soldier Boyby James Harcourt,

Year 8, The Earls High School

It started on a Monday in August, when I saw the recruiting

poster after the game. It was if General Kitchener was right in

front of me, telling me I should go and join the army. I decided I

would go and do just that.

When I told my parents back at home, my mum looked quite sad

that I was going away. My dad, however, nearly fell off his chair

in excitement. Go and do your country proud! he said to me. As I

packed my small case, I thought about what I was missing here at

home and nearly had second thoughts about going away.

I had packed my belongings:some paper, a pencil, a photograph

of me and my family, and my pocket watch (it had stopped

working years ago but I kept it anyway). I stood with my parents

in my new, smart uniform. I also had a ask of water and a

separate bag my mum had given me. I said goodbye to my parents

and my sister and the kept saying how much they would miss me.I saw all the banners advertising for more recruits as the noise

of the train made my ears throb. I waved one nal time as I got

aboard the train that was taking me to the Front.

It was very warm on the train and I looked round and saw the

carriage was packed with other volunteers of my age. The boy

sitting next to me waved out of the window and exclaimed, Boy,

Im gonna miss this place. I wonder what the Fronts like/ How

bout you then?

Me? Oh right yeah, I will miss London and my family. The

same with probably all of them here. I replied.

The train ride took hours, along with the crossing to Calais,

where we took another train to the Front lines and the camp.

When we at last heard the whistle blow and the train halted I saw

the camp outside. Boys were all gathered to see the new recruits.

I thought to myself, This is going to be just ne. How wrong I

was throughout those next few years...


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Warby Fatimah Rehman,

Ormiston Forge Academy

All is fair in love and war.

Shots re and lives end.

Thats fair

Young and handsome men

throw themselves

into doomed holes of misery.Are they alive?

Possibly.

Now thats fair.

War stories splutterfrom their cracked lips.

Blindedly, they seek revenge.I sit here,

This room is dimly-lit,

though it is alive with shouts

and screams

and a blood-soaked leg

and an agonised soldier.

Tip-toe, tip-toe,

Sh! Dont let them hear!

Running, Sprinting, Panting,

Climbing over the edge,

Peeking over the edge.

Bullets y through the air,

Casualties lying

on the cold, hard ground.

Didnt they know

the war is deadly?Silence.

It spreads through the scene,

like a deathly gas

being helplessly inhaled,misery painted

onto the faces of the soldiers.

Never will they feel peace;death will strike again.

Some may never walk,

Some may never speak,

Some may never feel how slim

the waist of their lover is.

Yet the war bangs on;

the war kills on.

The smoke will rise

and choke your lungs,

The bullets will y

and pierce your hearts,and Germany will rise

and change you all.



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The Front Line - At Night

Reproduced courtesy of the Canadian War Museum

L O

T F


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Christmas 1914by Shakira Crump,Halesbury School

Im cold, Im tired and bombs are keeping me awake. My

best friend has died.

I hate this place. I want to go home. I want my mom.

My name is Josh and I am 16 years old. I am from

Stourbridge. I am scared, shaky and very upset.

The big bombs have gone off, BANG. People are on the

oor dead and horses have died too. The sky is grey.

I am freezing. I dont now what to do. I am only 16 years

old and I want my mom.

Days and months passed. Nothing changed until a clearChristmas morning. The enemy shouted across the way,

Merry Christmas. There was no more killing, no more

bombing.

A man dropped a football. They were no longer enemies;

just people coming together as one.



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Lifes Rough In TheTrenches

by Luke Williams,Year 6, Huntingtree Primary School

Lifes rough in the trenches.

Its cold and its wet,And winters not here yet!

Im scared and Im tired,

I can hear enermy guns being red.

Were waiting for the command to go over the top.

The letters, like us, want this war to stop.

Today the planes dropped bombs,

And three of my mates died.

I sat in the mud

And I cried.

Lifes rough in the trenches.


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A Soldiers Diaryby Imogen Ferrer,

Year 7, St Michaels C of E High School

Awaiting the next command from the chief ofcer, I sit in

the communal trench. Blotches of light emerge from their

blanket of darkness as more and more walking wounded

enter the already crowded poor living environment. Every

day I anticipate what will be the next disaster that will

confront me... defenceless me.

Wondering, I spend my days wondering... wondering how,who, when, where, what. How are my family abandoned at

home? Who will be the next to die? Could it be me? When

will I see the low glistening sun from behind the rolling hills

of my peaceful town? Where does my strength come from?

What undeserving person will fall limply into my caring

arms?

Whirling around in the back of my mind is the constant

reminder of never seeing my family again. All of the happy

memories from before this time have disappeared into the

darkness. My only hope and dream is for me to return home

alive and have a comforting hug wrapped around me from

my loving children and wife. Before this time we all took a

hug for granted, but now we consider a hug as all the riches

of the world.

We all have to die at some point but now isnt the time.

Somewhere deep inside is the strength to carry on but it

is sinking deeper and deeper. Tentatively, my daughter

crouches in the corner wishing for her daddy. I must do it for

her. I can do it. I shall do it for her and I shall do it for my

country. Dont worry my angel; daddy is coming home very

soon safe and sound. xxx



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In The Trenchby Caimen Blackwood,

Year 9, St Michaels C of E High School

In The Trench we sat and pray,

So we could see another day.

We fought today

for your tomorrow;

Our families grieve

and we feel sorrow.In The Trench

we moan and groan,

While we sat

and remember home.

The love we had, the love we lost;

The love that our lives had cost.

In The Trench we kept our heads,

While the German snipers satand frowned.

All the guts and all the gore

That tainted the walls

a red decor.

All the rain and pain,

We fought through for your gain.

We fought for you

and not for fame,

Remember where

our bodies remain

In The Trench through the rain.


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A Medics Journalby Olivia Waldron,

Year 10, Windsor High School

Dear Diary,

I worked the full twelve hours today without a break. We

had almost double the men we had yesterday! Most of them

were becoming increasingly ill with trench-foot due to the

damp and cold conditions, explaining in far too much detailtheir decaying toes.

Our hostel was becoming colder and colder with the winter

months upon us and the sanitary conditions were becoming

increasingly worse. My voluntary aid detachment seemed of

a vital importance at this time in the year - more and more

men were getting ill.

Work never ended. Three nurses left after yesterdays

casualties, probably because one man got his nostrils blown

off. The other two must have just missed home.

A new batch of antiseptic BIPP is being sent out so some

people can be in slightly less pain and we wont have to

worry about their wounds getting infected.

One less thing to worry about. Just one.



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C

O W

The Second Battle of Ypres, 22 April to 25 May 1915

Reproduced courtesy of the Canadian War Museum


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In Memory of Frank Allenby Bethany Skidmore,

Year 10, Whiteheath Education Centre

Dear Diary,

It is so good to be home with my mother with a hot re, warm food

and my family around me, comforting me. It is so different from life in

the trenches and it is just like how I remember it.

I know that I am going to die. They wouldnt have sent me home

otherwise. The last I saw of war, I was being dragged off the battleeld;

apparently it was my good friend Jeff who saved me. The next thing I

saw was a white tent. I looked around and saw a doctor. He told me thatI was in a critical condition and that I had internal bleeding but that

they managed to stop it. I was safe. However, Jeff didnt make it. I was

told that he had lost an arm and a leg saving me. He didnt make it and

I started sobbing like a baby in remorse for my good friend who gave

himself up to save another.

I fell asleep after that and dreamed about Jeff; about how we met over

the cigarettes that we shared and the time that we read the letters from

our wives together. Then everything went black. I saw images of the

on-going battle going on in front of me. I looked down and saw myselfcovered in blood, my clothes ripped apart, being dragged along the ood

gradually losing consciousness. Then I was woken up by the Sergeant.

He told me that I was being sent home and then I realised that I was not

alright or safe; I was dying.

It was a long and hard journey home. I didnt know if my family

would be waiting, if my bed would be warm, if there was going to be

hot soup over the warm re waiting for me. I was very scared, What if

something had happened? What if they themselves were dying and whatif I had been replaced?.

However I neednt have worried. Home was still home. When I saw

my home with a womanly gure through the window my entire body

was lled with strength to walk through the door and to is my wife

for the rst time in what seemed a lifetime and I did just that before

collapsing in my chair by the re.

Dedicated to Frank Reginald Allen whose name appears on

the War Memorial at St Giles Church, Rowley Regis. The pulpitand organ screen are dedicated to his memory. He died of his

wounds at home 19th October 1915



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The Fallen Soldierby Abigail Beulah

Year 6, Lutley Primary School

(now Year 7, Windsor High School)

Fallen soldier all alone

Fallen soldier far from home

Trickling down his face a tear

Forgetting how it feels to fear.

Death and all its Fate and Glory,

Now its herewho will tell his story?



Is he one of these theyll all

forget?

The life he lived the goals he set

The ones he loved

The ones who wait

To see his forgotten face.



Now breathings

a waste of breath

And living just a waste of death

As he searches for a new addressA brand new home

free of loneliness



Lying motionless on the ground

The battle raging all around

For now,

He Is Now Not Alone...

This Fallen Solder

is Welcomed Home...


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The Loss Of A Friendby Gracie Winmill,

Year 3/4 Tenterfields Primary School

When your best friend is dead,

Its a blow to the head.

He was a loyal soldier

living a loyal life.

He fought well

through trouble and strife.He didnt want to go to the war.

Death was all that he saw.



18/24Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com18

The Honourable Slaughter

by Adam Stinchcombe,

Year 8, The Earls High School

The guns are blazing,

The torches are high,

For tonight we live,

We live to die.

You eager soldiers,

Waiting for the cry,Go pick up your arms,

And live to die.

Trench lled soldiers

fresh for killing,

With no mercy, humanity

or healing,

Thanking the Lord

for the chance of honour,

Go to ght and ght to die.

Hours pass, and then, alas -

The aftermath.

The son lies sprawledupon the oor,

The husband can be seen

no more,

A eld of bodies begin to grow,

Grieving poppies begin to show.

So the best has come and gone,

For tonight we lived to die.


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R

Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red installation

at the Tower of London. Photo courtesy of the

World War One Historical Association


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Thank You Letterby Maddison Rudge,

Age 10, Our Lady and St Kenelm RC School

Dear Grandad Great,

This is a thank you letter to remind you of what

you did.

You are lying in Flanders Field, getting

remembered by the people you loved the most.

In World War 1 you were marching, shooting, to

save all the people you fought for. You wanted to

go to let her live a happy life.

You came through World War 1 and made it toWorld War 2 but died of an enemy bomb stuck to

your foot. It was stuck and exploded on you on the

spot. Most people who still care are wimpering

and upset that you are gone.

You came back with a broken arm, a hole

through your knee and no left foot but you still

carried on going.

This is what happenedto my Grandad Great,and this is mythank youletter for him.


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At The Eleventh Hourby Georgina Banks,

Year 8, Leasowes High School

Wear a poppy on this day

At the eleventh hour,

stand and pray

Think about those who died

And all the people

who moaned and cried


Have two minutes of silence

then say

Well done to those

who held a gunThen the deadly war was won


For two minutes

stop your play

The soldiers didnt cowerThey fought until

their last hour


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Elliott guyLapal Primary School

Role: Fighter

Manufacturer: Albatros

Flugzeugwerke

Design: Robert Theten

Introduction: 1916

Primary users: German empire

Number built: 50

The Albatros D.I was a German ghter aircraft used duringWorld War 1.

It had a short career with only 50 models built.

The Albatros used a plywood semi-fuselage which was lighter

and stronger than the fabric skinned box type.

The D.I became the most powerful ghter aircraft.


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The Menin Gate Memorial to the Missing

at Ypres, Belgium


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we will remember them

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