Ho! Ho! Ho!

It's the Christmas holidays.  We'll be back mid-January.  

In the meantime, if any of our fantastic pupils have any writing they would like to put up on the blog, simply email it to ashfieldblog@gmail.com.

Have a fun-filled  - and occasionally peaceful - couple of weeks.  

As for 2013...bring it on!

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

More about our French assembly:

Our French Assembly

On Thursday the 6th December 2012 Year 5&6 organized a French assembly with our French teacher Mrs Milne.  Before the assembly we spent the other 10 weeks learning about different topics like colour and what is in our house and bedroom. We also learned a couple of songs.  Some were about the different colours, about how to say hello and some about what is in your pencil case. Then we moved on to write sentences about things in our house. Here is an example: “J’ai habite a Workington dans ma grande maison.” That means I live in Workington in my big house.

On the day of the assembly round about 50 parents came to support their children. Some children got up on the stage to do French PowerPoints about their houses. Those people were Jayme, Jonathan, Lucy, Me, Luke, Amie, Jon, Alyx, Sophie and Sian.

During the assembly Mrs Milne got up on stage and we did a couple of games where she showed pictures on the whiteboard and she said a name and if the name matched the subject you put your thumb up, but if the name didn’t go with the subject you put your thumb down. Also we were having conversations where Mrs Milne said something and you had to reply with the right answer. 

It was really fun having Mrs Milne come in every Thursday, the weeks just flew by. Most of us thought that we were rubbish at French, but we all put the work into it and we all think that we have done well and that we have all persevered. I would personally say this has been my favourite topic and I will definitely choose this subject when I go to senior school.

 By Holly (Yr6)

Emmy

Suddenly, the car grinded to a screeching halt. She looked down to the gauge on the car to find it flashing red. I wonder what’s wrong?  she thought to herself. Emmy gazed at the road in front of her, there was nothing; nothing but old tumbleweed, somersaulting across the dusty track. Trying to start the car again she rang the AA to come and rescue her. Then a car bonnet rose in the distance, this couldn’t be them, could it?

It took a while for the car to climb the hill, leading to Emmy. The ghostly, white face went and was gone and still there was no AA to rescue her. Time went by quickly and soon it was dusk, Emmy was starving, she needed to scavenge for food, edible food. Luckily she knew what she was looking for.

After a while it was dark, Emmy decided to go for a stroll in the midst of the darkness; even though it was a scorching hot desert, during the night it was like a freezer, an icy-cold freezer. Everything was quiet except the whisper coming from Emmy’s mouth, telling her to keep calm and carry on. Her feet ached beneath her as she walked further, further into the desert. Greasy, black smoke rose from the car which was now behind her.

As the sun started to elevate from the ground, Emmy felt like a lost little puppy in the middle of emptiness.  It had been two days since the car had broken down, yet she still hadn’t seen the AA. The atmosphere was broken when the ROAR! of a lorry moved quickly towards her. She dived onto the rocky track. Passing swiftly by, the lorry blew sand into her face.

Lorries come from a city, don’t they? she thought to herself. She followed the trail of oil that the lorry had left behind. 

Eventually, there was no oil left on the road, Emmy stopped in her tracks. All around her were skyscrapers towering above her, she began to feel worried. It was as if they were looking down at her, like when your parents tell you off. Screaming, she sprinted into the nearby supermarket, everything seemed giant now after she had been in the empty desert for so long.

After that, nothing seemed normal to Emmy anymore. Skyscrapers were immense monsters; cars were lions strutting down the street, heads held high.

By Jayme (Yr6) 

Chas McGill - from the Machine Gunners - has written to William - from Goodnight Mr Tom.  Chas is trying to persuade William to join him in Garmouth.

 

Dear William,

My life before this war was so boring. I cannot believe that the effect on Garmouth would be so epic. They’re scared. I know it, but with the machine gun it’s a good way to take revenge. Before the war, mam was a worrier, unlike me. And dad, well he was fussy, so he was quite particular in what he did. Anyway I went to school and put up with BODSER BROWN. Weirdo. Come, come to Garmouth. Be free to do what you like, you’ll like it. It’ll be heaven, pure heaven. So come, you won’t regret it. It will be the time of your life.

The fact is you need friends that stay loyal to you. You need a circle of friends so you can feel happier and safer. Cem’s my best friend, his dad’s a grave digger, how cool is that, but when we put our minds together, we’re unstoppable. You could be part of that, a trio, a triangle of minds. Audrey’s a girl (yuck) she’s alright, but keeps us on our toes.

Another purpose is: with us you’ll have a bird’s-eye view of the sea. And be the first to see the Germans. My friends and I need new recruits, and we think you are just the ticket. Besides we need a soldier for the army, some new meat to the bone, ‘cause every cloud has a silver lining but yours well yours is gold. Look at it from my point of view, do you really want to spend the rest of your life drawing insie winsie flowers? So decide.

Next, your friend Zach. Dead. I believe… I heard he was your closest friend but you can’t stay sad forever, so come join us. You know you want to. So believe me you’re wrong. So come. Please, you’re lost without me. We’ll balance you out a bit, you’ll be in a gang, have friends. So I’ll say it again. Decide.

We’ll train you, teach you how to use air-rifles. I can help you! TRUST ME! And you, well, you could widen my knowledge, get me to be a star pupil. In conclusion, you’ll have a bird’s eye view, you’ll be the ONE to see the Nazis. I can’t promise a luxury 5 star hotel, but it won’t be far from it, join me.  Do you really want to die of boredom?

Signed Chas McGill

P. S we need you, I need you.

 

By Jess (Yr6)

 

French lessons

For the past 10 weeks Year 5&6 have had half an hour sessions with a teacher from St Joseph’s School called Mrs Milne. She has helped our French knowledge grow. After good quality work she put on an assembly for the Parents/Carers of Year 5&6 to come in and see them perform. For the last couple of weeks they started to make a French PowerPoint or did French posters of their house or their bedroom. Inbetween showing the children’s work, they sang some French songs. The children had worked really hard at putting their projects together.

Year 5 & 6 would like to say a big thank you to Mrs Milne for all her effort and hard work. All of the children that did a PowerPoint or a poster did extremely well by standing and showing in front of the whole school and all of the parents. Mrs Milne is a great French teacher. I think that everyone would agree with that.

When the assembly had finished the parents had a look all around the hall at the posters about their houses. Then it was the end. After that had finished it was the end of Miss Milne’s time at Ashfield Junior School. We wish Mrs Milne the very best of luck at her new school.

Katie (Yr6)

Mrs Milne leading the assembly

Amie reading her French PowerPoint

 

Another dark 50 word story...

The End

As the plane came plummeting towards the Devil’s Pit, as awesome people call it, all you could hear was the pitch of unfortunates’ screaming. Amalia sat with her hand nervously slumped on top of her mother’s, trying to keep her calm and confident.  Amalia soothingly said, “This is the end!”

By Lucy (Yr6)

A mysterious tale...

The Waiting!

As life went floating by, Danielle stayed cool and collected. No matter how long she waited she would still stay a pretty and popular girl. Danielle lay in the field with a glistening golden dress twinkling in the blinding sun beams. She looked at her pearly white watch. Danielle had been waiting there since 4:30pm waiting for him, bearing in mind that was the time they agreed to meet. She had been waiting there for 20 minutes; however she had not one idea of why she was still waiting.

Just as she stood up, to leave, a black shadow came striding towards her. Danielle took off her glamorous designer 4 inch heels and started to sprint heading for him. Thinking it was him. But was it him? “Lucas, you’re here you’ve made it!” she yelled. When she was about 5 yards away from him. She stopped…

Her eyes flickered around the open field almost asking for help. Would there be any help? Where is help? What has he been watching her the entire time? She cautiously took a step back, thinking she would be safe, but unfortunately she was wrong. As quick as a lightning bolt he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fully loaded pistol and pointed it right to her picture perfect face. She told people she never cried, well that’s not true. A crystal clear tear went smoothly crawling down her face.

Her arms were flung up into the air, feeling threatened. She started to inhale the fine air, which had changed from summery beach air to the freezing cold devil’s pit, like her mum used to talk about. As two lonely creeping tears tamely crawled down her face, thousands more followed. A black cloud of sins covered the icy sharp sky. She gasped for breath as the gun came closer and closer to her head. Then it stopped as it just lightly tapped her frail face. She gulped. Just then she realized the bug repellent she had tucked away in her hand bag. Without warning, she delicately pulled it out of her hand bag. Then pressed the buzzer and sprayed it into his eyes.

“Danielle!” Lucas came running towards her. She pulled the trigger of the gun. And the bullet went right through the black figure. She felt proud, that she had saved herself rather than being the damsel in distress!   

Lucas picked up the tortured young girl and carried her through the meadow, nevertheless she would always have the memories of her bravery.

By Lucy (Yr6)

Two 50 Word Stories

It all started with a screech filling my ears. Initially it was not my mum, but the bombs quickly descending to the Earth’s heart, making it skip a beat. Swiftly we all fled down to the soggy Anderson shelter. Then we all heard the deathly BOOM! From above. Goodbye Earth.

Suddenly there was a loud blast, I fell to the ground. What on Earth was that? I hauled myself to my feet and ran; the wind raged fiercely into my face like it was trying to get through. Then, without warning, the immense cathedral tumbled to the ground. Goodbye world.

By Michelle  (Yr6)

Memoir

I am now sitting in a care home at the age of 70, in London near Big Ben. As he strikes one all my tragic memories from World War Two fly back to me. I am writing now, I am beginning to shake more.  Then the nurse comes in to bring me my morning cup of tepid tea. I am beginning to think how my parents would feel if they lost me. I am wondering if it was the same feeling as when I lost them. I have a little metal plate with their names engraved into it, William and Elisabeth Bedford.

The first bomb dropped in 1939 , when I was just six years old and my sister was just twelve months of age. I could just hear my mam crying and hugging my sister and me…I was trying not to cry with her, but they just rolled down my face. The all clear siren went off. My mam and dad went off to the corner of the Anderson  shelter whispering. Then they approached me and my sister to tell us we were going to be evacuated…to New York. 

At that moment my breath disappeared for seconds. We went back into the house, luckily everything was just fine.  I had to start packing my stuff.  I was leaving next day. Tears dropped out of my eyes before I went to sleep.  I fell into brutal dreams.

On the ferry to New York I made no friends, I just wanted to go home. BUT WAIT! I didn’t know how long I was going to stay in New York for. Carrying my sister in my arms, I asked a sea-sick young boy who was standing next to me and he said he was there for two months or more, but he didn’t know about me. A tall, wobbly lady was walking around the deck and I asked the same question. She whispered in my ear, “Two months or forever.” I was beginning to get worried.

BOOM! The ferry banged to a halt. We were in New York City and we were safe. I never knew if my mam and dad would still be alive back in Britain.

Many, many months later, it was dinner time, but I was not getting much. I didn’t feel like eating.  But my sister ate everything!  Later in the day, it was 2pm and I was sitting on my bed crying for my family. Then a pretty lady in pink passed by and said, “You are leaving tomorrow.” I started jumping and dancing around. My sister didn’t know what was happening.  She just watched me, confused. The next morning I got back on the ferry, my sister walking beside me. As soon as I got on, I started crying for joy. I was going home! I was actually going home! 

Now  those memories suddenly stop.  But they will always be with me.  Forever.

By Sophia and Fatma (Yr6)

Here's another...

World War 2 MEMoiR

Today I’m 82 years old. The nurse has just put my tepid cup of tea by my side. Now my daughter and her children come bouncing into my room at the nursing home, at which I am a resident. I tell them about my evacuation on the 19^th of September 1940.

It all started with a screech filling my ears. Initially it was not my mum, but the bombs quickly descending to the Earth’s heart, making it skip a beat. Thankfully it hit two streets away. My mother, tears streaming down her cheeks, clutched me and my sister, Sarah, to her cold body. Then my mother decided to evacuate us to our Grandma’s and Grandad’s, in the middle of the countryside. Hearing that was the hardest thing I ever heard. That night we had to pack. All I could hear was my mother, sobbing into her pillow.

As we got to the train station, all my mother could do was give us, me and Sarah, a kiss on the head; give Sarah her doll and wish us both good luck for the future. I helped Sarah clamber onto the carriage and then it was my turn, I had one last look around and eventually climbed aboard the humble train. After six hours on a train, Sarah got really agitated. As soon as we got there Sarah went really quiet. I noticed what she was looking at. It was some kind of spotty animal like a big Dalmatian. We wandered lonely as a cloud, on the platform looking for grandma and Grandad. The pain of leaving mum was unbearable, even Sarah started to feel it. Finally, Grandad arrived in his Rolls Royce; he was the only one who I knew who had one.

When we got the farm, it was a living nightmare. Getting lost in the field all the time. Most of the time I was concerned for my mother. Is she still alive? Where is she? All of a sudden, there was a loud blast, I fell to the ground. What on Earth was it? I hauled myself to my feet and ran; the wind blew fiercely into my face. Grandad came dashing out of the house with Sarah on his side; Grandma came with her first aid kit.  Then, for a moment, we all came to a standstill.

Someone crawled uneasily out of the wreckage. Luckily it was an English man from the R.A.F. Grandad threw Sarah towards me, picked up the injured man and took him into the house.  Grandma fixed his motionless leg, his wounded arm and the nasty scratch on his forehead. He said his name was James and he was only seventeen. He was only here a week before the R.A.F came for him.

Grandad switched on the wireless and the news came on. “Hitler has committed suicide. He has left us with shattered cities, destroyed harbours and no factories left to speak of, but he will never break the strength, courage, or the dignity of the British men and women.” Then, “It is safe for evacuated children to return to the cities.”

I clambered aboard the 901 express train. I looked back at the five years of my life on a farm, with my Grandma and Grandad; the ones who Sarah called mum and dad.

Now I look back to the place where I was born and realise that wasn’t really my home, my home was at the farm with Grandma, Grandad and Sarah. Now my tepid tea has gone cold and my Grandchildren are gaping in amazement. Well I am living in this world, I live to tell the tale. 

By Jayme-Leigh (Yr6)

THE IRON MAN 

Smash! Smash! Smash!

Went the Iron Man’s feet.

The Iron Man swayed in the wind.

CRASHING! CRASHING! CRASHING!

Down the cliff he went.

 Boom! Clatter! BANG!

Silence.

By Daniel, Joseph, Reece & Kieran
3JB

Stomp!   Clatter! Bump !

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

The Iron Man stood at the top of the cliff.

CLATTER! CLATTER! CLATTER!

The Iron Man came tumbling down the cliff.  

BUMP! BUMP! BUMP!

The Iron Man hit the ground.

Then there was SILENCE.

Katie H, Katie V, Addison B, Millie –A Evans

Class 3JB

THE THUD! THUD! THUD!

THUD! THUD! THUD!                 
Stomped the Iron Man up the cliff.

WUSH! WUSH! WUSH!

Went the stormy sea.

WUSSSH!  WUSSSH!  WUSSSH!

Went the whistling trees.

CRASH!  CRASH!  CRASH!

Went the Iron man down the cliff.

TUMBLE!  TUMBLE! TUMBLE!

The Iron Man fell.

After that silence all you could hear

Was the sea crashing against the rocks.

By Sophie, Jessica, Eve & Ellie

3JB

The Year 3s have been reading The Iron Man by Ted Hughes. They have also been learning how to use onomatopoeia in poetry.

SWAYING IN THE WIND

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The Iron man stood at the top of the cliff.
 

WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WOOSH!

The Iron Man swayed at the top of the cliff.

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

His iron right foot his enormous iron right foot stepped into nothingness. After that there was silence.

By Simeon, Ethan, Evan, Matthew

Class 3JB

Imperial War Museum

On the 10^th of October 2012, Year 6 went to the Imperial War Museum in Manchester. We had to be at school for 7am and set off at 7:15 am. On the way there we brought our DSs, iPods, phones and MP3 players, and played on Picto Chat. The journey took two and a half hours to get there.

Once we were there we had a warm welcome by the staff. The women said that the architect, Daniel Libeskind, designed the Imperial War Museum. He wanted to design the building to say you can destroy a world and put it back together again, but it will never be the same.

The staff was amazed at our knowledge for WW2. We learned in the workshop that there was a woman who got married in a pale blue outfit. Her future husband was married in his uniform because he was going into battle afterwards.  I felt sorry for them because they could have had a nice wedding.

After lunch we went up the Shard.  It’s a tower where you can see most of Manchester (do not go up there if you are scared of heights). The tower was snow flake white and was very airey, because it was open.  It had a metal floor and the walls were made of slats.

The gift shop was amazing and full of paraphernalia (stuff). In our group the mini pad and pen were the most popular. There were models of Spitfires, sweeties and slinkys. (Our teacher did not like us buying tat.)

On the journey back everyone was really tired, but we all really enjoyed ourselves.

By Jess (Yr6)

Way up high in the Shard

In a workshop on the Homefront

World War Two Memoir

I just love waking up to a big bowl of hot steaming soup; we didn’t have that when I was younger; we didn’t have sizzling juicy bacon on the frying pan, for when you potter down the stairs in your slippers and dressing gown. A little frown pops onto my face when I think about how badly the city was destroyed. I would never desire that to happen to this ripped to shreds world.

Screeching death birds were attacking as if wanting to take over the country, then wanting more, wanting the world to suffer and surrender. After living through the awful bombing for months my Mum thought it was enough, so me and my little brother, Kenny, had to be evacuated. So there we were waiting for the old steam train, but still even though I was getting evacuated to safety, who would protect my fragile mother?

At the farm, as evening fell, bombs fell harder and harder; I could feel it in my gut. When I get home will my Mum and Dad be alive? Would I even have a home? Would I be able to go back to a mixed up place? One devastating night a stray bomb hit, which to my calculation was way off the aim. It wiped out part of the farm. Mr and Mrs Beckham, my evacuee parents, were wiped right out like words from a chalkboard. Kenny and I were in the stables grooming the horses.  By a miracle we survived.

Shortly after, we went to live on another farm, but Mr and Mrs Corpse were cruel and vile. Kenny and I learned how to fend for ourselves. One misty night, Kenny ran in screaming. Suddenly a horse squealed. BOOM! BANG! The side of the farm house had vanished! There were streaks of lightning illuminating the sky; terror ran down my face, terror ran down Kenny’s face. Airborne Magic, my horse, was lying on the floor, curled in a ball. Benny, the dog, was under a pile of cushions on the burnt sofa! Would this terror ever end?

Now it’s modern day, the world will take its shape and will always stay the same. They may have hurt us then. We will always stay strong now!  My mind is still full of memories, but my bowl is now empty. It’s a new day. It’s new dawn.

By Lucy K (Yr6)

Workington Can Take It!    

Today, everyone is getting ready for this night, the big bombing. Everybody is anxious to get home and get ready before the attack. It’s rush hour for everyone. Air raid shelters are full of parents and kids. It’s manic.

 Here comes the siren. German engines roaring while they fly pass and then…. BOOOM!!! BOOOM!!! Everywhere people are sleeping in the shelters wondering, will we live? Or will we die? 

Another siren goes off but a friendly one. Workington is still standing and shakes the debris off its head, cleaning the bricks and the mud off the pavement and the road. Workington shall face another bombing…

By Ellis M (Yr6)

We have been watching the World War Two propaganda film, London Can Take It.  We wrote versions for Workington.

Workington Can Take It!

It is late afternoon and everyone is getting organized for the big bomb night. It has been a quiet day, but it won’t be a quiet night. We haven’t had a quiet night for 5 weeks. All the volunteers are rushing home to change into their uniform. It is the last hour until the Germans bomb. Everyone is at Murray Road for the bus to take them, well some of them, to the shelter on Station Road.  

The roaring sirens go off… The Germans are prepared to kill. Will we live, or will we die? Not everyone will make it to safety, as the queue is too big.  People’s lives are at risk. BOOM BOOM POW!!!!!  Buildings are knocked down in instant seconds.

It is quiet, it is dawn.

6:01AM  the friendly sirens go off.  Workington is still standing and shakes the mud, concrete and bricks off its head. Time to get ready for the next bombing.  

By Joshua B (Yr6)

Although a few weeks ago, Matthew has been working on a Dove Cottage poem in his spare time.  Here it is: 

Dove Cottage

Some say I’m cosy, some people are nosy.

I’m said to be cold, now I’m old.

I hold a story in each room. 

The fire's burning, the stew is turning. Shhh!  The children are learning.

When the wind comes in it goes in the bin.

I’m still warm, the fire will win. 

I know the tale, I have ginger ale, the tale of poetry, William likes his words, he

waits his turn.

The smoke from outside, I have a line as free as me.

You can see up high just like a fly, the house is on high.

By Mathew L (Yr6)

A brief explanation of some of the lines:

* When the wind comes in it goes in the bin.  I mean that when the wind comes  into the house the fire still wins.  It’s as if the wind has been thrown away.  

* I know the tale, I have ginger ale, the tale of poetry, William likes his words, he waits his turn.  Dove Cottage used to be a bar and may have sold ginger ale.  We were told that William liked to sit in a particular chair by the fire, but I think Dororthy or his wife would have liked that chair too.  William will have had to wait his turn.

* I have a line as free as me. The cottage is at the bottom of the mountain. William’s daughter ran up the mountain to collect flowers, put them in her basket and then replanted them in the cottage’s garden.  The line is the route the daughter takes.

* The house is on high. Although the house is down in the valley, from the sloping garden you can see over the roof of Dove Cottage towards Grasmere.

A 50 Word World War Two Story

A life or death decision, right in front of my eyes. I could stay in the Anderson Shelter or risk my life for my poorly defended mother. But then, right then, the loudest noise appeared, even louder than a whales warning siren. Right now my life is over. Goodbye world.

By Lucy (Yr6)

 

Here's another report about last week's visitors.

Alan & Ivy

Year 6 had visitors come to class to talk to them about their experiences of evacuation. Alan is an 80 year old man who was evacuated to County Durham in 1940, and Ivy (his wife) lived in Maryport during the war in WW2.

Alan told us how to put on gasmasks, how to build Anderson shelters and that shrapnel can kill you. Everyone put on the gasmasks for 10-15 minutes each Friday during school time. Also he said that 1940 was a frightening time because the war began to get worse! They told us that the Germans bombed the aircraft factory to stop them building the planes to fight the Germans.

If incendiary bombs fell they would burn everything and that was the most popular bomb the Germans used. On the radio the Germans would broadcast where they were going to bomb, and they would begin by saying “Germany calling” 3 times. One day they said they were going to bomb Castle Street because it was the main street in Bristol. That was where Alan lived!

By Rosie-May  & Demi-Leigh (Yr6)

The Coventry Bombing

The sky was inflamed as the evening fell.

The planes started to rise from the distance.

Sirens sounded, panic struck. 

It was horror, it was destroyed,

My heart was no longer.

The city got worse as the bombs dropped down.

Fear on everybody’s faces.

We all ran down to the shelter, hoping we would live.

There in the shelter the ground was shaking

They were bombarding, bombs blasting, loud screaming, Death emerging, guns re-loading,

It was total madness.

People awakened from the shelter below and saw all the pillars of smoke.

The city centre was crumbled below our feet.

There was nothing left to live for.

Black smoke, destroyed buildings surrounding us,

The city was dead!

By Michelle (Yr6)

The Blitz

Fear on everybody’s faces

From last night’s terror.

The moon was high, clear beautiful.

Then it dawned on us.

Siren sounds, panic strikes everyone.

Some shouts, more screams, nothing compared to it.

Then I feel it shaking the ground, with a deathly sound.

Bombs hit in a never ending line.

Pillars of smoke never stop.

I open my eyes and it’s gone.

By Jayme (Yr6)

The Blood Thirsty Blitz!

I am lying on my living room floor,

I am looking at the wall but where’s the door?

I am feeling the breeze of the Earth’s core,

I am in the middle of an immense war.

The sky is as red as blood,

The ground is covered in sloppy brown mud,

The fire is roaring like a lion,

The houses are steaming like an iron,

The bombs exploding,

Machine guns re-loading,

They are willing,

That they will be killing,

Lots of folk,

Gathered under the smoke,

They are destroying the city,

They will be saying “Oh what a pity.”

Now it’s a brand new city,

It will always be pretty.

We’ll keep it in our sight and let it shine under the moonlight.

By Lucy K (Yr6)                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

Sad on the Inside

As I look, I see fog.

The train just leaving out of the horrible station.

My heart pumping with excitement.

All I see is black like the night, people screaming - people smiling just like me.

On the inside I’m worried because my parents have gone.

When I am there, I am moving, eager to get off.

Sun shining bright in my eyes, “I’M OUT!”

“No tears” I say firmly as I wave a lonely goodbye to my friends

I am brave, I am strong, I walk

Then I’m outside my new house.

Doorbell ringing, blood pumping - should I run away?

He says hello and shows me the farm.

Hay stacks and my new dad teaching new facts.

Rain falls, phone calls and that’s me going to sleep.

By Jonathan D (Yr6)

Blitz Moon

The night is clear
The moon is bright
The thing I hear
Throughout the night
Not the planes
Not the screams
But the bombs plummeting
To the earth it seems.
Bombs are flashing
Throughout the night
The smell of smoke
Not a peaceful night
The moon tonight
Frightening
Shining down
With a devilish frown
The earth below
Is white like snow.

By Matthew G (Yr6)

14 November 1940

Bombs screeching
Like an angry baby
Impossible damage
Tackling like wrestlers
Zooming fire roaring viciously like a hungry lion.

By Megan (Yr6)

I can still…

I can still hear the old townsfolk

The jet black columns of smoke.

I can still feel the pain

Tonight for dinner we’re the main.

I can still see the children in their dance

Now I’m staring into death’s glance.

I can still taste the sooty, crisp air

This war with Germany it’s not fair.

I can still smell fear

Now I’m afraid the end is near.

By Grace (Yr6)

Blitz

We thought it was another day, another life, well we were right.

We could hear people crying, crying

Devastated to see their husbands, daughters and families gone.

The city centre crumbled it was falling apart .

The sky was completely red, smoke surrounded the sky.

We could smell flesh, blood and fire.

Water flooded the ground .

By Amy  M (Yr6)

After Alan and Ivy's visit, Year 6 have listened to an audio clip of a man recounting his time in the volunteer fire service during the Blitz and watched a documentary about the bombing of Coventry. Here are a few of our poems.

Blitz 

The full Moon I was daunted
I felt like that night we were haunted
Then loud and clear came the air raid siren.
Finally came the roar of German planes
We were stuck in a prison of horror and shame.
14th of November who would guess
I felt like Coventry would never rest.
I could feel the pounding of my heart.
It was speeding like a car
But it wasn’t getting very far.
I could hear the screeching of a bomb
Maybe later our house would be gone.
I looked out of the taped window.
There was dark red blood all around
Bricks and burnt body bits on the ground.

By Eli (Yr6)

Match Report: Workington v Cockermouth

On the 22 September Workington played Cockermouth. (We play for Workington.) As the game kicked off the ball went straight to Workington. The ball was kicked down the pitch to the right winger, and all of a sudden he crossed it into the box and the ball deflected off the goalkeeper. It went in the bottom right corner. Only two minutes into the game and Workington were 1-0 up.

When Cockermouth kicked off again they just thumped it up the field to Workington’s keeper. He played it to the left-back and he knocked it up to the left-winger. As the winger took a shot it deflected off another player and fell at the left-back’s feet. He took a shot from the halfway line. It went over all the players and landed at the back of the net. He raised his arms in joy. Then it was half time. Workington were having the time of their lives but Cockermouth were furious.

Ten minutes into the second half and Workington were teasing them as they took another shot and another goal was created. A few minutes on and Cockermouth were even more frustrated, so they decided to play their type of game and while they were attacking they decided to pick up a goal (3-1). But it didn’t stop Workington scoring another astonishing goal. It was all over as it was too late for Cockermouth to come back.

The whistle went.  Game over. 4-1. It was the best game of our season so far as we were on top form. 

By Danny and Matthew (Yr6)