Hey guys, thought I'd make a chapter on remembrance day as a commemoration to the soldiers of WW1
in the chapter i actually put in teh positive influences, negative influences and information that is actually true (except for the names of course)
hope you enjoy, and a salute to those who died in the wars...
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July 1916,
Jonathan "Crackshot" Hofferson, brave soldier fought in the Battle of the Somme. A bloodbath against the British, and on the first day, with more than 30,000 casualties alone, was the most dangerous battle in the course of human history. A great war which took place claimed the lives of not only Jonathan, but his close friend, and old neighbour Hamish "kipper-slapper" Haddock. They fought together in the 15th battalion of the fourth army, commandeered by General Sir Henry Rawlinson, and they fought fiercely until the very end. The men were gassed on their fifth day within the trenches, and they didn't survive. Nobody in those trenches survived the gas, as there wasn't enough time to get them out. Their wives and children were left fatherless, and they grew up knowing their fathers had died for king and country, and were proud of them. Jonathan died at the age of 25, and Hamish died at the age of 23.
11th November 2014
Astrid placed down the book in the war section of the library with tears streaming down her cheeks. Hiccup beside her was near to tears and Snotlout was crying like a little child who'd lost their parents in a supermarket. After finding out how their great- grandparents did in the war, they knew they had to make some kind of tribute to remember them by. As a first, they visited the graves of their great grandparents, who'd happened to be right next to each-other, on the right hand side, in the centre row. Stoick himself was in despair and almost in pieces, before he said "shall we go home and have a feast in their honour?" while Snotlout was on the floor, from fainting. Hiccup and Astrid nodded in agreement, as they pulled Snotlout to his feet and got him to walk with them. The graveyard was busy with many people, young and old, all of whom yearned to pay their respects to the deceased loved ones in their families.
Later that day, as Astrid was laying the table, Stoick was topping off the Turkey, and Snotlout and hiccup were outside finishing the design of an old Viking-style funeral pyre, Astrid's mother drove up to the house. The last time she'd visited was just before the end of the summer, and she heard from Stoick about her grandfather. She wanted to be with Astrid, so she could comfort her, but in truth, she was the one who needed comfort, as her eyes were welling up with tears, and her emotional stability, out the window.
"Stoick?!" she shouted hoping to get a response, but instead noticed Snotlout come out from around the back, looking as if he'd just done a good deed of some kind.
"Hello Dear, you wouldn't mind getting Stoick would you?"
"I can't Uncle S is cooking dinner, and you're just in time, foods all ready." He replied, with a slight tone of depression in his voice.
"Oh, well let's go eat then." She gestured to him as she walked towards the door.
"Hello Stoick, How are you?" she greeted the hulking man who arose from his seat as she entered the room.
"not too bad Helen, what about you-" "oh excuse my manners, please, sit." He gestured to a chair he was pulling out from under the table.
"Thank you Stoick," she said as she sat down "what did you make for dinner?"
"a nice plump roast turkey, with roast potatoes, asparagus, parsnips, and some gravy with rosemary." He said as he brought out the mouth-watering turkey, basted and cooked carefully in juices.
"Wow, that looks Delicious" everyone else exclaimed, having their minds taken right off the depression they had felt only hours prior.
"Well then, Let's Dig in!" Stoick shouted, "but first, can we have a moment of silence for those in ours and those countless other families." He mellowed his voice as he spoke, as if he were truly touched by his grandfather's generation's sacrifice.
As the moment of silence ended, Snotlout was the first to immediately demand for the turkey and moaned of his hunger, but Stoick, being the patient man he was, left him to wait until last for his slice. As they ate, they all talked about the people who they saluted for their military service, and the evening was filled with celebration. Later that night, Stoick called them all out to the pyre, where they burned the pyre at eleven at night, as to show off the flames to the world, celebrating te centenary of the war, and commemorating the soldiers. The others 'oohs' and 'aahs' in co-ordination with the different scents of woods added to the fire, and the fireworks behind which were launched. His carried on until they were all very tired, and as they became droopy and sleepy, they went to their beds, All asleep like logs except for one, troubled, scrawny Fifteen year old boy…
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this will go into the next chapter, but will work slightly differently. just to say, thanks for the review Blue the first, your review really opened my eyes to my schoolboy errors. a virtual cookie to you good Sir or Madam.
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see you next chapter
Yours, JC
