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Intermediate. Years 7/8/9

WWII, It's all fun and games when it comes to war.

By Evan Stuart, year 7, Elizabeth College

I chuck a grenade over my cover, in the general direction of the Nazis. There’s gunfire whizzing past me, like a never-ending storm of horizontal rain. I start to cock my Thompson, ready to give a tad more density to the storm.
I look in the direction of the noise; The soldiers around me are all panicking; Mustard Gas. Out of nowhere I pull out a gas mask and place it over my face with ease. As the gas poured out of its small, compact metal tank, I use this as cover and run out the trench, over to a metal barricade that’s in sufficient aiming distance from the Nazis. I stay there until the gas has disappeared, not moving a muscle.
I hear a Nazi cheer and that’s when I sprint out from my cover and jump into the Nazi trench, Thompson raining down a wall metal and gunpowder.
“Got you!” I shout, puffing with exhaustion from my mad dash to seal the victory.
“No, you didn’t,” Ben says standing up, “I dodged all of your bullets!”
“Yeah, right…!”
“Stop arguing, you two!” Mother shouts, “It’s time to come in now, anyway.”
“Aww!” Me and Ben moan, in unison, “but we were having so much fun.”
“What game were you playing then?” I’m excited to tell her I was being more realistic like she asked me to.
“We were playing Papa’s game!” I say happily. Immediately, I regret saying it, almost instantly she starts welling up.
“Excuse me for a second.” She half-sobs. Running off into her bedroom.
“Err,” Ben says, “I think I need to go home now.” He runs off towards his bike.
I can still hear Mother sobbing in her room, I walk to the door and peek in. She’s holding a picture of papa.

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