memorial

Anning's video script

1.     Lucy is a uni girl, this is a weekend morning she decide to do some exercise, that she went to a small mountain, (she was running along the path)

2.     When she ran to top of mountain, suddenly she found something refresh in the bush, she go into the bush, she found a every old and rusty iron plate, there were some words, but that was not easy to read (after a few minutes, she found out this is a solder necklace) she was feel so mysterious about this necklace.

3.     When she was back to home, she sat in fount of computer to search Australian passed war history. She found a little information about that during World War 2 there was a fight in this city.

4.     She stared to clear this solder necklace, the words were still hard to read out, but finally there was a name appears on this necklace.

5.     Next day morning, she decided to go The Australian Museum find out more information about this war. ( she was catching bus to The Australian Museum)

6.     In the Museum, she was attracted by the things appear in front. 

7.     After Museum, She went to the War Memorial, there was a wall and all dead solder’s name that can be found on this wall.

                                 Old Man

                 When I was child, I lost my father during the World War 2.

What you looking for? 

                Lucy

I found this solder necklace in bush, (pass to old man), I try to find his name on this wall.

               Old Man

Oh well, let me help you!

8.     After while, they still could not find the same name on the wall.

                               Old man

                  He dose not belong to here. I usually come here to talk with my farther, I know he can hear me when I talk to him. So I think they all can see and hear what you do and what you say.

war poetry

I AM BUT...

I am but a grain of sand, 

Pretending to be part of this land, 

Sifting through the plains of strife, 

Trying to figure what to do with this life.

I am the grass that plays in the wind, 

Swaying in the breeze on those that sinned, 

Happy in the rays of brilliant light, 

Being crushed by a hate filled blight.

I am but a flake of snow, 

White in the drift, watches me flow, 

Stained red with blossomed poppy I be, 

Frozen forever but still wonderfully free.

war poetry

      BELIEVE IT

If you have been there you’ll know what I say,

When I talk about the Iraqi way,

For the rest it might be a surprise,

And might think it all lies.

At night it’s hard to see,

Cos there’s rarely any electricity,

All the cables are intermingled,

So candles are often rekindled.

The rubbish in the streets is piled so high,

That it’s impossible to pass by,

The kids speak English all the same,

With “meester water” and “what’s your name?”

The smell in the towns are so different and vile,

One sniff can make you gag for a mile,

The acidic odour of a dead carcass,

Can be used as map reference markers.

It’s wise to always watch your feet,

Cos there are streams of human excrete,

When we’re driving around the fact is,

That we are used for rock throwing practice.

You always hope that you won’t stay long,

As you’re a target for a roadside bomb,

Clutching a picture hidden in your locket,

Especially when there’s an incoming rocket.

What I describe is a horrible scene,

And there are places just not foreseen,

Now you say that this can’t all be true,

But I know that it’s happening in Afghan too.

war poetry

POETRY BY ALEX ROISSETTER

ALONE IN DUTY



I am here serving my time,
And I don’t know where to draw the line,
I’ll never see the world through your eyes,
Blissfully unaware of the living lies.

My solid presence is here,
Told how not to show any fear,
But my body is hollow,
And senior commands I will blindly follow.

A woman’s touch to me is xenon,
Like with you seeing a tanned albino,
My bed a cot and my duvet a sleeping bag,
Around my neck is my chain with tag.

I see couples cuddle on the box,
As I numbly wash my dirty socks,
I have been told that I am like a stone,
Maybe it’s why I am so alone.

What will I do when I leave?
Maybe I’ll get out the gates and statue freeze,
Or maybe with my last memories laid,
Carried by six to my last parade.

Shed no tears for my life,
For I probably will not have a wife,
I always did try to do my duty,
But some people just think I am loopy.