Dunkirk

There he was on the edge of the beach. He saw the steel, grey sky. Men marching then two or three collapsing onto their knees from exhaustion. All of a sudden tears rolled down his cheeks. Quickly wiping them away, he took a step onto the beach. He tripped over an arm, Corporal Darlington looked down to find his friend lying there, lifeless eye’s wide open. He died helplessly. There was nothing Darlington could do.

Darlington continued walking towards the edge of the sea. He took a deep breathe of the sea air and began to smile, until he saw out of the corner of his right eye. His horse being shot. That’s what sent him over the edge. He started to cry, his loyal beast had just been shot.

Black Beauty they called her, a fine stallion. Big, bigger than any of the other horses. Everyone wanted her but she had been Darlington’s. He loved her like one of his own children. Then as he looked into the distance he could see something. It couldn’t be? Could it? Men started running to the shoreline.

“I’m coming home!” one man shouted. Everyone started jumping and waving to signal where the boats must come. Darlington started to jump up and down. Then turned around and looked at the remaining wounded and his horse.

“What a waste, so many people and loyal beasts died for nothing but greediness,” Darlington thought to himself.

Jayme-Leigh (Yr6)