We Will

Remember
Them

A collection of creative writing

by school pupils in Halesowen & Rowley Regis
Published by James Morris MP

Contents
Foreword 3
James Morris MP
Sopwith Camel
4
Izak Guy, Lapal Primary School

Your Country Needs You

The Soldier Boy
James Harcourt
The Earls High School

War 7
Fatimah Rehman
Ormiston Forge Academy

A Soldiers Diary
11
Imogen Ferrer
St Michaels CE High School

Lifes Rough In
The Trenches
10
Luke Williams
Huntingtree Primary School

In The Trench
12
Caimen Blackwood
St Michaels CE High School

Life On The Front

Christmas 1914
Shakira Crump
Halesbury School

A Medics Journal
Olivia Waldron
Windsor High School

13

The Loss Of A Friend

Gracie Winmill
Tenterfields Primary School

17

Casualties Of War
In Memory of
Frank Allen
15
Bethany Skidmore
Whiteheath Education Centre
The Fallen Soldier
Abigail Beulah
Lutley Primary School

16

The Honourable Slaughter 18

Adam Stinchcombe
The Earls High School

Remembr ance
Thank You Letter
20
Maddison Rudge
Our Lady & St Kenelm RC School
Albatros D.I
22
Elliott Guy, Lapal Primary School

At The Eleventh Hour

Georgina Banks
Leasowes High School

21

Foreword
The anniversary of war is not
a time for celebration, but we
owe it to all those who served
to try to understand what they
were fighting for and what that
involved.
The men marching off to France
and Belgium in 1914 would
struggle to recognise much of the world we know today.
The sacrifices made by so many soldiers fighting for King and
country, and by countless civilians at home and overseas, is now
almost unimaginable. Whilst millions of instances of incredible
bravery have passed without ever receiving the recognition that
they deserved, we do know of some acts that were astonishing
even against a daily backdrop of extraordinary heroism.
I invited school pupils in Halesowen and Rowley Regis to
submit poems, diary entries and other creative writing, imagining
what life was like amongst those who served and those who
were left behind. I was overwhelmed by both the quantity and
the standard of the entries I received. This is a collection of the
very best, but there were many others that could also have been
included.
I hope that you will enjoy reading their work, and join them in
reflecting on the experiences of those who gave so much for us.
We must show that the freedoms and values for which those
young men fought remain as dear to us as they were to them,
whilst thanking God that few of us will ever need to make the
sacrifices made by those heroes who served.
James Morris MP
Halesowen & Rowley Regis
November 2014
Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com

Role:
Biplane fighter
Manufacturer: Sopwith Aviation
Company
Design:
Herbert Smith
First flight:
22nd December

1916

Introduction: June 1917

Retired:
January 1920
Primary users: Royal Flying Corps;

Royal Naval Air;

Royal Air Force
Number built: 5490

The Sopwith Camel was a British WW1 single-seat biplane

fighter. It had a short-coupled fuselage and a heavy powerful
rotary engine. It had unmatched manoeuvrability.
The Camel shot 1294 German aircraft.
Izak guy
Lapal Primary School
4

The Soldier Boy

by James Harcourt,
Year 8, The Earls High School
It started on a Monday in August, when I saw the recruiting
poster after the game. It was if General Kitchener was right in
front of me, telling me I should go and join the army. I decided I
would go and do just that.
When I told my parents back at home, my mum looked quite sad
that I was going away. My dad, however, nearly fell off his chair
in excitement. Go and do your country proud! he said to me. As I
packed my small case, I thought about what I was missing here at
home and nearly had second thoughts about going away.
I had packed my belongings:some paper, a pencil, a photograph
of me and my family, and my pocket watch (it had stopped
working years ago but I kept it anyway). I stood with my parents
in my new, smart uniform. I also had a flask of water and a
separate bag my mum had given me. I said goodbye to my parents
and my sister and the kept saying how much they would miss me.
I saw all the banners advertising for more recruits as the noise
of the train made my ears throb. I waved one final time as I got
aboard the train that was taking me to the Front.
It was very warm on the train and I looked round and saw the
carriage was packed with other volunteers of my age. The boy
sitting next to me waved out of the window and exclaimed, Boy,
Im gonna miss this place. I wonder what the Fronts like/ How
bout you then?
Me? Oh right yeah, I will miss London and my family. The
same with probably all of them here. I replied.
The train ride took hours, along with the crossing to Calais,
where we took another train to the Front lines and the camp.
When we at last heard the whistle blow and the train halted I saw
the camp outside. Boys were all gathered to see the new recruits.
I thought to myself, This is going to be just fine. How wrong I
was throughout those next few years...

War
by Fatimah Rehman,
Ormiston Forge Academy
All is fair in love and war.
Shots fire and lives end.
Thats fair
Young and handsome men
throw themselves
into doomed holes of misery.

I sit here,
This room is dimly-lit,
though it is alive with shouts
and screams
and a blood-soaked leg
and an agonised soldier.
Tip-toe, tip-toe,
Sh! Dont let them hear!

Silence.
It spreads through the scene,
like a deathly gas
being helplessly inhaled,
misery painted
onto the faces of the soldiers.

The smoke will rise

and choke your lungs,
The bullets will fly
and pierce your hearts,
and Germany will rise
and change you all.

Are they alive?

Possibly.
Now thats fair.
War stories splutter
from their cracked lips.
Blindedly, they seek revenge.

Running, Sprinting, Panting,

Climbing over the edge,
Peeking over the edge.
Bullets fly through the air,
Casualties lying
on the cold, hard ground.
Didnt they know
the war is deadly?

Never will they feel peace;

death will strike again.
Some may never walk,
Some may never speak,
Some may never feel how slim
the waist of their lover is.
Yet the war bangs on;
the war kills on.

Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com

Life On
The Front

The Front Line - At Night

Reproduced courtesy of the Canadian War Museum

Christmas 1914
by Shakira Crump,
Halesbury School

Im cold, Im tired and bombs are keeping me awake. My

best friend has died.
I hate this place. I want to go home. I want my mom.
My name is Josh and I am 16 years old. I am from
Stourbridge. I am scared, shaky and very upset.
The big bombs have gone off, BANG. People are on the
floor dead and horses have died too. The sky is grey.
I am freezing. I dont now what to do. I am only 16 years
old and I want my mom.
Days and months passed. Nothing changed until a clear
Christmas morning. The enemy shouted across the way,
Merry Christmas. There was no more killing, no more
bombing.
A man dropped a football. They were no longer enemies;
just people coming together as one.

Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com

Lifes Rough In The

Trenches
by Luke Williams,
Year 6, Huntingtree Primary School

Lifes rough in the trenches.

Its cold and its wet,
And winters not here yet!
Im scared and Im tired,
I can hear enermy guns being fired.
Were waiting for the command to go over the top.
The letters, like us, want this war to stop.
Today the planes dropped bombs,
And three of my mates died.
I sat in the mud
And I cried.
Lifes rough in the trenches.

10

A Soldiers Diary
by Imogen Ferrer,
Year 7, St Michaels C of E High School
Awaiting the next command from the chief officer, I sit in
the communal trench. Blotches of light emerge from their
blanket of darkness as more and more walking wounded
enter the already crowded poor living environment. Every
day I anticipate what will be the next disaster that will
confront me... defenceless me.
Wondering, I spend my days wondering... wondering how,
who, when, where, what. How are my family abandoned at
home? Who will be the next to die? Could it be me? When
will I see the low glistening sun from behind the rolling hills
of my peaceful town? Where does my strength come from?
What undeserving person will fall limply into my caring
arms?
Whirling around in the back of my mind is the constant
reminder of never seeing my family again. All of the happy
memories from before this time have disappeared into the
darkness. My only hope and dream is for me to return home
alive and have a comforting hug wrapped around me from
my loving children and wife. Before this time we all took a
hug for granted, but now we consider a hug as all the riches
of the world.
We all have to die at some point but now isnt the time.
Somewhere deep inside is the strength to carry on but it
is sinking deeper and deeper. Tentatively, my daughter
crouches in the corner wishing for her daddy. I must do it for
her. I can do it. I shall do it for her and I shall do it for my
country. Dont worry my angel; daddy is coming home very
soon safe and sound. xxx

Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com

11

In The Trench
by Caimen Blackwood,
Year 9, St Michaels C of E High School

In The Trench we sat and pray,

So we could see another day.
We fought today
for your tomorrow;
Our families grieve
and we feel sorrow.

In The Trench we kept our heads,

While the German snipers sat
and frowned.
All the guts and all the gore
That tainted the walls
a red decor.

12

In The Trench
we moan and groan,
While we sat
and remember home.
The love we had, the love we lost;
The love that our lives had cost.

All the rain and pain,

We fought through for your gain.
We fought for you
and not for fame,
Remember where
our bodies remain
In The Trench through the rain.

A Medics Journal
by Olivia Waldron,
Year 10, Windsor High School
Dear Diary,
I worked the full twelve hours today without a break. We
had almost double the men we had yesterday! Most of them
were becoming increasingly ill with trench-foot due to the
damp and cold conditions, explaining in far too much detail
their decaying toes.
Our hostel was becoming colder and colder with the winter
months upon us and the sanitary conditions were becoming
increasingly worse. My voluntary aid detachment seemed of
a vital importance at this time in the year - more and more
men were getting ill.
Work never ended. Three nurses left after yesterdays
casualties, probably because one man got his nostrils blown
off. The other two must have just missed home.
A new batch of antiseptic BIPP is being sent out so some
people can be in slightly less pain and we wont have to
worry about their wounds getting infected.
One less thing to worry about. Just one.

Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com

13

Casualties
Of War

The Second Battle of Ypres, 22 April to 25 May 1915

Reproduced courtesy of the Canadian War Museum

14

In Memory of Frank Allen

by Bethany Skidmore,
Year 10, Whiteheath Education Centre
Dear Diary,
It is so good to be home with my mother with a hot fire, warm food
and my family around me, comforting me. It is so different from life in
the trenches and it is just like how I remember it.
I know that I am going to die. They wouldnt have sent me home
otherwise. The last I saw of war, I was being dragged off the battlefield;
apparently it was my good friend Jeff who saved me. The next thing I
saw was a white tent. I looked around and saw a doctor. He told me that
I was in a critical condition and that I had internal bleeding but that
they managed to stop it. I was safe. However, Jeff didnt make it. I was
told that he had lost an arm and a leg saving me. He didnt make it and
I started sobbing like a baby in remorse for my good friend who gave
himself up to save another.
I fell asleep after that and dreamed about Jeff; about how we met over
the cigarettes that we shared and the time that we read the letters from
our wives together. Then everything went black. I saw images of the
on-going battle going on in front of me. I looked down and saw myself
covered in blood, my clothes ripped apart, being dragged along the flood
gradually losing consciousness. Then I was woken up by the Sergeant.
He told me that I was being sent home and then I realised that I was not
alright or safe; I was dying.
It was a long and hard journey home. I didnt know if my family
would be waiting, if my bed would be warm, if there was going to be
hot soup over the warm fire waiting for me. I was very scared, What if
something had happened? What if they themselves were dying and what
if I had been replaced?.
However I neednt have worried. Home was still home. When I saw
my home with a womanly figure through the window my entire body
was filled with strength to walk through the door and to is my wife
for the first time in what seemed a lifetime and I did just that before
collapsing in my chair by the fire.
Dedicated to Frank Reginald Allen whose name appears on
the War Memorial at St Giles Church, Rowley Regis. The pulpit
and organ screen are dedicated to his memory. He died of his
wounds at home 19th October 1915
Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com

15

The Fallen Soldier

by Abigail Beulah
Year 6, Lutley Primary School
(now Year 7, Windsor High School)
Fallen soldier all alone
Fallen soldier far from home
Trickling down his face a tear
Forgetting how it feels to fear.
Death and all its Fate and Glory,
Now its here
who will tell his story?
Fallen soldier all alone
Fallen soldier far from home
Is he one of these theyll all
forget?
The life he lived the goals he set
The ones he loved
The ones who wait
To see his forgotten face.
Fallen soldier all alone
Fallen soldier far from home
Now breathings
a waste of breath
And living just a waste of death
As he searches for a new address
A brand new home
free of loneliness
Fallen soldier all alone
Fallen soldier far from home
Lying motionless on the ground
The battle raging all around
For now,
He Is Now Not Alone...
This Fallen Solder
is Welcomed Home...

16

The Loss Of A Friend

by Gracie Winmill,
Year 3/4 Tenterfields Primary School

When your best friend is dead,

Its a blow to the head.
He was a loyal soldier
living a loyal life.
He fought well
through trouble and strife.
He didnt want to go to the war.
Death was all that he saw.

Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com

17

The Honourable Slaughter

by Adam Stinchcombe,
Year 8, The Earls High School
The guns are blazing,
The torches are high,
For tonight we live,
We live to die.
You eager soldiers,
Waiting for the cry,
Go pick up your arms,
And live to die.
Trench filled soldiers
fresh for killing,
With no mercy, humanity
or healing,
Thanking the Lord
for the chance of honour,
Go to fight and fight to die.
Hours pass, and then, alas The aftermath.
The son lies sprawled
upon the floor,
The husband can be seen
no more,
A field of bodies begin to grow,
Grieving poppies begin to show.
So the best has come and gone,
For tonight we lived to die.

18

Background photo Jane Jones www.ww1photos.com

Remembrance

Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red installation

at the Tower of London. Photo courtesy of the
World War One Historical Association

19

Thank You Letter

by Maddison Rudge,
Age 10, Our Lady and St Kenelm RC School

Dear Grandad Great,

This is a thank you letter to remind you of what
you did.
You are lying in Flanders Field, getting
remembered by the people you loved the most.
In World War 1 you were marching, shooting, to
save all the people you fought for. You wanted to
go to let her live a happy life.
You came through World War 1 and made it to
World War 2 but died of an enemy bomb stuck to
your foot. It was stuck and exploded on you on the
spot. Most people who still care are wimpering
and upset that you are gone.
You came back with a broken arm, a hole
through your knee and no left foot but you still
carried on going.

20

This is what happened

to my Grandad Great,
and this is my
thank you
letter for him.

At The Eleventh Hour

by Georgina Banks,
Year 8, Leasowes High School
Wear a poppy on this day
At the eleventh hour,
stand and pray
Think about those who died
And all the people
who moaned and cried

Wear a poppy on this day

Have two minutes of silence
then say
Well done to those
who held a gun
Then the deadly war was won

Wear a poppy on this day

For two minutes
stop your play
The soldiers didnt cower
They fought until
their last hour

21

Role:
Fighter
Manufacturer: Albatros

Flugzeugwerke
Design:
Robert Theten

Introduction: 1916
Primary users: German empire
Number built: 50

The Albatros D.I was a German fighter aircraft used during

World War 1.
It had a short career with only 50 models built.
The Albatros used a plywood semi-fuselage which was lighter
and stronger than the fabric skinned box type.
The D.I became the most powerful fighter aircraft.
Elliott guy
Lapal Primary School
22

The Menin Gate Memorial to the Missing

at Ypres, Belgium

23

24