ANZAC Day Writing Competition

To commemorate ANZAC Day this year all students were invited to participate in a writing competition that reflected upon the values of courage, endurance and mateship.

Students could choose to write a piece in the style of their choice. I hope that you enjoy reading the winning entries that were presented at the Middle School and Senior School Assemblies on Wednesday. Congratulations to Annabella Madden of Year 10 and Viola Friberg of Year 9. These students wrote poignant poems that captured the essence of the ANZAC spirit and message. There were many entries this year, so I have also included the runners up in each category.

Thank you to all students who entered the competition. This is one very important way that we can keep this important day in our memories. Lest we forget.

Ms Ellis

Those who have fallen

Viola Friberg 9D

For those who have fallen

They mingle not with laughing comrades again

They sit no more at familiar tables at home

To the end they remain, never forgotten

For those who have fallen shall not weary with age

They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old

They are known as the stars are known to the night

They remain, never forgotten

For those who have fallen are like birds roaming a once forgotten land

Robbed if their desires, hopes and tears

Their once young glow buried in the filed where they once lay

Upon this land, they remain never forgotten

For those who have fallen we sing sorrows to the skies

And let us commemorate our fallen soldiers

We march upon the heavenly plains and let them hear

That they remain, never forgotten

ANZAC Poem

Annabella Madden 10D

Oh teens who fought with ANZAC

You who threw lethal grenades

And not reckless parties

You who walked down the trenches

And not to your graduation

You who stayed up on watch duty

And not to message friends

Why did our country make you leave

Before your school dance

Before your graduation

Before you could text goodbye

Come back

Be a teenager again

ANZAC Micro-fiction

Adam Lakey 10B (Senior School runner up)

Before dawn, a young man named Harry awakes from his sleep, greeted by the starts sprinkled like glitter through his bedroom window. Tired and weak, Harry rises from his slumber, dismisses his alarm, and gets dressed in his finest clothes. Today was ANZAC day, a day to remember and reflect on the sacrifices made by the ANZAC troops and honour their bravery throughout history.

Harry’s great-grandfather served in Gallipoli. While he never got to meet him, his stories, passed down through generations, are etched in his heart. This year he had the honour to wear to wear his great-grandfather’s medals for the march. After getting ready, Harry stepped out into the crisp morning breeze, the moonlight glazed across his face.

While the walk to the memorial was short, each step was heavy with the burden of history and sacrifice. As he joined the vast crowd, the first notes of the bugle started playing. It was the sound of The Last Post, a tune which spoke of courage, bravery and sacrifice.

The final note fades, marking the beginning of the minute silence. Harry bowed his head in silence and reflected on the sacrifice made by all ANZAC soldiers. He reflected on the unfairness of war and how brave soldiers were to volunteer. He thought of his great-grandfather and thought of the experiences he would’ve gone through. ‘Lest we forget’ was played spoken. Under his breath, Harry thanked the ANZACs for their bravery, courage and sacrifice.

Bluebell 

Safia Sheikh 7F (Middle School runner up)

In the dead of the night, a soldier silently snuck out of his cabin. He turned his head back behind him. Good. No soldier noticed. Well, no human soldier, that is. While he trudged through the sand, his injured leg limping, a small bird glided behind him. It had shiny blue feathers, with such large, silky wings that it was near impossible to miss it. But the soldier had other things on his mind.  

He finally reached the shore, after what felt like years of walking. He plopped himself onto a rock, and watched the tide rise and fall. The bird perched on his shoulder. He glanced at it from an angle, obviously noticing it, but didn’t seem to care. 

“Hello.”  

The bird fluttered its wings, mainly out of shock. It settled back down, and the soldier took it as his chance to continue. “I never wanted to kill,” he started. “I never wanted to leave either.” If you looked at him then, with the moonlight reflecting on his face, you’d notice he didn’t seem older than 20. “They just take you away from your homes, and force you to…” 

He didn’t finish his sentence. 

He covered his eyes with his hands, and a single tear dropped from his eyes. “You’d know that, wouldn’t you? Don’t they make you deliver messages? Imagine what you’ve seen.” He shuddered. The soldier turned his head and stroked the bird’s neck. It let out a little chirp. “You look so, so… blue!” The bird tilted its head. 

His mood seemed slightly lifted. “It’s a shame you don’t have a name. An actual name, I mean, not D-028. Maybe I can name you!” He said it with the same excitement as a child getting a new toy. “What should I name you… I know! I’ll name you Bluebell!” The bird chirped, as if it knew what he was saying.  

“Kasey Malon!” His joy was short-lived. The soldier turned his head. “Where are you?!” The soldier turned his head. “I’ve got to go...’’ 

And with that, he strolled back to camp, ignoring his weak leg. Bluebell flew alongside him, until he reached the gates of the camp, and flew off into the sunrise. 

Every day from then on, a little blue jay flew past the soldiers after battle, giving soldiers the motivation to keep going. 

Middle School News.

Year 8 Camp