English Language GCSE Creative Writing

Can someone mark this please [-- Q5/6 English Language (?/40) --]:

The letter arrived on a cold and rainy day. It was sealed with a red wax stamp that bore the symbol of the king. I knew what it meant before I even opened it. My fate was decided. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I read the words. I clutch the letter in my trembling hands and feel a knot in my stomach, but have no choice. I had been drafted to fight in the war against the rebels. I had to report to the recruitment centre in two days. There was no way out. I didn’t want to go to war. I had never held a weapon in my life. I had never hurt anyone. I had a family, a farm, and a future. But none of that mattered now. I had to serve my country, whether I liked it or not. I tried to muster some patriotism and courage, but all I felt was horror and sadness. I looked at my wife and children, who were crying and hugging me. I took out the locket that my mother had given me when I was a boy. It had a picture of her and my father, who had died in the last war. I kissed it and prayed that I would see them again. The next day, I packed my belongings and said goodbye to my family. They told me to be careful and come back soon. I boarded the train that would take me to the recruitment centre. It was crowded with other young men like me, who looked scared and confused. Some of them tried to make jokes or sing songs, but most of them were silent or sobbing. The train moved slowly through the countryside, leaving behind everything I knew and loved.

I arrived at the recruitment centre, where I was greeted by a stern officer who shouted orders at us. He told us to line up, get our uniforms, get our weapons, and get ready for training. For the next few weeks, I underwent a rigorous training regime that tested my physical and mental endurance. I learned how to march, shoot, stab, grenade, and survive in the battlefield. I learned how to obey commands without question or hesitation. I also met my comrades, who came from different backgrounds and regions. Some of them were farmers like me, some of them were workers or students or merchants. Some of them were friendly and helpful, and some of them were just rude and arrogant. We formed bonds of friendship and loyalty as we shared our hopes and fears, our joys and sorrows, our stories and secrets. We became brothers in arms…

But we also witnessed death and suffering as some of our comrades died or got injured during training. Some of them were killed by accidents or mistakes, some of them were killed by enemy spies and saboteurs.

We learned that war was not a game or a glory, but a hell on earth.

We were sent to the front line, where we faced the enemy for the first time. We were told that they were traitors and rebels who wanted to overthrow the king and destroy the country. We were told that we had to fight for our freedom and honour, but we were not prepared for what we saw.

The battlefield was a nightmare of fire and blood, of smoke and noise, of pain and fear. We saw bodies piled up like garbage, limbs torn apart like wild animals had scavenged every piece of flesh and gnawed it off their bodies. they said would pray for me every day, and wait for me to come home, and that god would be with me. Now, I question everything. I look around and see only death and destruction all around me. A round of bullets fizz by me, whistling as they pass my ear hitting my comrade brutally to the floor, I was as cold as ice, I stood there, frozen and lifeless. Suddenly, I too was shot, wounded, I fell to the ground. I felt a hole in my chest, physically and mentally, I don’t know how to feel or react. This was not a part of training, I was not prepared for this.

I wake to the sound of bomb shells flying past me and men of all sizes screaming and shouting. I am pulled to my feet by a fellow soldier, they had pushed the rebels back to there last line, it was nearly over. With the help of my new found friend I limp gradually away from the roaring guns and exploding bombs.

I was soon treated by a medic and taken to a hospital. I recover from my physical injuries, but my mental injuries are only just starting to affect me. What if there are mines in my field? What about if the rebels are at my house? What about my Comrades? I suffer nightmare after nightmare of gruesome flashbacks reminding me of what I have been through, I am haunted by the memories of the war and the people I lost. I feel lonely and hopeless.

I receive a letter on a warm and sunny day that tells me I can go home. I am happy and relieved, but also anxious and uncertain, I will leave my friends behind, what if they don’t come back? I man up and decide to go home. My family needs me. I need my family. I board the train that will take me back to my little house, and my little farm, and my little family. But, will they recognize me? Will they accept me? I hope so. I hope I can find peace and happiness again.

I still remember the day I got the letter…