44
M
y dad's in the Army. I've always liked saying that,
always enjoyed watching him come down our drive and
jump out of the car in his uniform. Whenever I have
friends round, they tell me he's so cool, not like their dads who
work in a bank or something boring like that. Even though I
know he'd get much more money from doing something boring,
I don't care, because my dad can use a gun, and fly a helicopter,
and all sorts of awesome things. It's good he hasn't been away
fighting or stuff in a while though; I see him nearly every time I
go home, and I know he's not in as much danger, so I don't have
to worry about him.
Today though, he said he's going away. It's Sunday, and he
announced it over lunch. He's going for a couple of weeks to
Afghanistan. Not to fight like he did before, but for some
meetings and reviewing the area or something. He still has to
have all these special clothes, desert camouflage, a really big
helmet and jacket. I bet it's bulletproof! It was fun this
afternoon, he let me try it on and I was running round corners,
my hands curled round each other like a gun. But now Mum
seems really unhappy. Looking at her now I can see her eyes are
crinkled up, and her face is the colour of paper in quite an old
book, and the skin seems stretched. I tell myself persuasively
she is just tired, but I can tell she is worried about him. So am I.
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I'm so ready. It's quite exciting, like it used to be. Since I turned
30, I've just been given various office jobs, kind of unnecessary,
just there because someone has to do it. It's the first time I've
had to do anything like this or even been abroad for a while.
Let's face it, it's probably the last. I'm not a very high rank,
middle-aged, and not done much of note. I've done three tours,
though all in Afghanistan. Fearless, young and fit. The way I
used to be. Now I have to train really hard for my fitness tests.
They'll kick me out in about ten years anyway. So I'm glad I'm
doing something important. It makes me feel like maybe I am
needed. I'm not even important to my family now. I'm away
most of the week and they manage perfectly well without me.
Three Voices
by India Greenland
Poppy asked if I wanted to go to her party but I don't want to.
Daddy left today, in his cool clothes. I wonder if he'll get a gun?!
Maybe, but I hope he doesn't kill anyone! I used Mum's
computer to look up Afghanistan, but it just popped up with
loads of pictures of faces … I don't know why. It said "In
memory of …" I'm pretty sure that means they went to
Afghanistan like Daddy, and they all get faces on the internet as
a memory of their time there. Not that I'd want to remember?
I asked Mummy and she just went quiet. Tori said to stop
asking her if Daddy was OK, but I really want to know. Why
can't I? I know he's not not OK, but I'm just checking.
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It's like there is a whole gap in my life. I come home and call
his name only to remember where he is and what he could be
doing … because I haven't found out for certain or told anyone,
but there was an explosion, an IED where he stays at night,
planted during the day. And it was night so he must have been
there … none of the survivors are conscious yet, but there is
apparently a 'reasonable chance' and that I shouldn't be
distraught. I mean, of course I'm going to be fricking distraught!
What do they know?
Johanna Kastner A2 Molly Mathews A2