The Fallen sons

Prologue
''In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.''

''We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.''

''Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. - John McCrae 1915.''

Chapter One
10th of November, 1918, 6:00 am, Frink.

I woke to the sound of trumpets, the sound of the Garmik Soldiers waking in the other trench, I remember that day, The 10th of the 11th Month, in 1918. I got up and clumsily grabbed my riffle, in my blood stained diggers uniform I dragged my self over the edge of the trench. I spotted some fox's tail. '''BOOM! '''Followed by a screech of agony. Sorry mate, it had to be done. I watched the gunfire of many animals quarreling. The Lynxes, Fox, Otters and wolves on myside and the Roos, Koalas, Rabbits and Foxes being shot and shot, firing and firing, bleeding and bleeding. Mourning their friends, Family and companions, the nurses rushing in and taking the injured away. My mate Banjo by my side, sniping and aiming, dodging the bullets as they come suddenly something that caught him of guard, something lethal, something created no more for the destruction of man. A bullet to the head.

Chapter Two
10th of November, 1918, 5:30 pm, Frink.

He fell to the floor, blood flying from his head heading knocked back a metre or two. I drop my gun and rush to him.

I started to shake him frantically.

"BANJO, MATE SPEAK TO ME! SPEAK TO ME!" I yelp "C'MON MATE STOP JOKING 'BOUT! TALK TO ME!" I shake him more and more. His eyes open.

"Cooper, keep on fighting, take the quarrel to the foe. Don't worry about me. I've died not in vain or in pity but in honor. Keep them at bay!" He spoke in this frail voice. "Don't forget me, it's alright. May Zios and Mira be on your side..." He closed it eyes, blood rushing down his face. He lay him down.

"He has passed." One of the Soldiers told me as came up behind me.

Chapter Three
10th of November, 1918, 10:30 pm, Frink.

I sighed and got back to my gun and began shooting soon after the biscuits came around, I took mine and bit into it.

It was hard but crunch I finished it off. The sun had started to set. I remember Gollipoli, one of the darkest and most grim days I've seen in this never-ending hell. Many of friends died, unprepared soldiers charged up the otterman's shores and where shot from it, those who were tough or lucky enough to make saw enough blood shed to feel sick.

We had to deal with leaving our families behind, because of this war, our sons, brothers, uncle, fathers and friends around us had to leave everything behind. Only to fight in a unknown land, or die trying.

I heard a familiar trumpet sound which. AHA! The last post, 'bout time... to rest. I noticed Banjo's body was gone, probably the nurses took it away to perform an autopsy.

I went to lay down and took a cigar out of it's packet and lit it, leaning against the dirty and rocky tre. Soon after I blew and put it out on the ground. Some soldiers offered to play some cards but I didn't want to all I just wanted to do was rest. I closed my eyes and fell into a sleep quickly.

Chapter Four
11th of November, 1918, 11:00 am, Frink.

I woke to the cheering of soldiers dancing and partying. The Garmikains have surrendered along with the ottermans and autros-anhry empire aswell. It's good day the eporueans. I thought about the many eporueans being freed and their countries. It is certainly a swell day for the world.

I started to walk over to the nurse's tent.

"I'm here to see Banjo Smith's grave?" I asked

"Certainly sir." She replied and took me over. "Here it is sir."

"Thank you." I stated with a pang of loneliness.

I noticed the bright red poppies growing on his grave, ''it's Banjo favorite flower! I thought to myself, If he could see this. ''I look up.

"HEY BANJO, MATE YOUR FAVORITE FLOWERS GROWIN' ON YA GRAVE!" I yell up.

Epilogue
25th of November, 1918, 2;00 pm, Austrilous.

I sighed as I came home to my dear wife, I love her. After I docked I rode my rusty bike home with my riffle in my case, ready to see my two lovely children. When I arrive I knock and she opens up the door. "Greg you're home! KIDS COME SEE WHO'S HOME!" She yelled with glee. "DADDY!" The twin foxes yelp rushing down in their dresses. I smiled and welcome them in my arms. My dirty diggers uniform mad them a bit dirty but, she didn't mind.

Lest we forget.

Author's notes
Thank you.
 * This was made for Remembrance Day which is different to Anzac day. (Anzac remembers the Australian Soldiers who died in Gallipoli, Remembrance Day is everyone who died in ww1 in general.)
 * Please be respectful in the comments. (No spam, Racist, Offensive comments etc) As stated before, this is an expression of rememberance of soldiers who died in the war.
 * The author lives in a common wealth country (Australia). Please don't tell me I misspelled metre (meter), wrong.
 * Don't Vandalize this page. I wouldn't Vandalize a page that pays respects to the fallen in war.

This was story was written by Clemont is a seal.