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Remember, Mother, when you used to
hold me whilst removing the nits out of my hair, you always smelt so warm
and comforting.
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Death in the Gallipoli trenches
By James Costello |
I'll never forget the vivid look of surprise
in his eyes, the look of a man in the last moments of life. He must have
had a mother as well. Is he thinking of her now?
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Face to face, two metres apart; one of us was going to die. His eyes
were full of hate, but I could smell his fear, or was it mine? I had no
more rounds in my rifle, just a bayonet on the end. He, the same. |
My right leg gave way slightly, but I quickly stiffened it up. Mustn't
let him see me weaken. Then his eyes spoke to me. I've got you, I've got
you now. His confidence, my fear; not much of a match really. As I moved into the sunlight, I turned to look at him and was shocked
to see my body slumped across his. |
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James Costello, who contributed this painfully evocative
piece for Anzac Day, saw service in Egypt, Jordan, the Sinai Desert and
Kenya with the British army from 1948 to 1953. He now lives in Sydney
and works in the accounts department of a shipping company
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