大象传媒

I remember when my Great Grandfather told me about his life on the front line. I was only young but from his words I was able to understand the fear that he went through, well as much as humanly possible.

He was 21 and he had just been moved on to the front line as a private. He was scared that he would not make it back to England alive. He stood on patrol for hours on end without any sleep at all.

His story then took me to a battle field. He told me that the Germans had made a move. I was too young to understand who the Germans were, or why they started the war.

He was in the middle of the fight, I couldn't believe what he had been through, I didn't know that he was at the front of a battle. His voice was trembling as he told me what had happened but he wanted me to know how bad the war was and why it shouldn't happen again.

As the fight went on, he saw his friends fall; he didn't think he would survive. He ran from the Germans but he was hit. He always had a scar across his chest but I had never known what had caused it. He told me that he was shot across the chest but it was lucky that he wasn't killed. He was carried away after the battle by his men and returned home.

Since he told me that story I have never forgotten it, but I never asked him again. The story brought out a "demon he wished he had forgotten."

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