They ran with glee to the recruitment office having alighted from their long train journey. All boys from the Barrington; excited to be together; jostling with their mates and brothers to be first in line. This was their opportunity; their means of excitement, adventure and to get away from the farms. Away from the drudgery of following their fathers orders; away from their dull routine. Now they would experience something amazing; dangerous and new.
To fight for their country. Yes they had lined up to join the ranks. Young boys who had no idea what was install for them over the coming years. They spent weeks leaning over ship balusters, green from sea sickness, wondering the sense of their enlistment. Solid ground, dairy cows and boring routine appeared a better vision than the endless stretch of waters before them.
They landed on foreign shores where the enemy had taken hold. Strange voices, faces and smells cut through their old familiar world as they plunged into the dense foliage before them. They marched with gun and sickle in hand, losing mates on the way from gun shell, disease and maim. Still they marched pushing the enemy back into denser forest until their numbers dwindled and they became overwhelmed by the enemy soldiers.
In walls they sat, those still alive; huddled with their now small band of mates. They called the place Changi and they watched with unseen eyes as their mates around them died from starvation, hard labour and disease. Their eyes now only saw their beloved Barrington as they struggled to lay the iron rail through Hellfire pass.
For most the cruelty and neglect was too great to bear and they lay down their weary bodies against the track on this foreign soil waiting for the north winds to one day lift their lost souls and carry them home again.
Very powerful, Annette. Great imagery.
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