Dear Dad, Mum's Gone.

This story is for the History Competition.
Hope you enjoy!


2. Father's Departure.

"Almost every man in England are leaving today to head out to war. From the office here we wish them luck, and in memory of  those who died in the first war, we would like to hold a minute silence."


I hugged father for the last time. I squeezed him, and he squeezed back. I didn't want his warm embrace to leave, but he did. He pulled back, and kissed the top of my head. Subtle, but fatherly. He moved on to Robert, who held out his 8 year old arms.

"Father. Don't leave us. Father, please."

Robert fell into silent sobbing, as he held his fathers arms for the last time. I watched as father knelt down to Ralph. His eyes glistened with tears. But, for a five year old, he was strong. He held them back, and gave his father a hug. Ralph's knuckles were white as he scrunched them up. He was going to miss father as much as us, I knew it.

Finally, father stood up, and let mum fall into his arms. She too sobbed, and nestled her head in his shoulder. Her hair was tied back in a bun. Her face was not as tight though. If anything, it was as loose as my head band. Father turned to leave, but Robert clutched his arm.

"Dad. I love you."

He smiled, and kissed Robert on the top of his feathery hair. Then he quickly pecked mum's cheek while he was at it. Then, he opened the small gate. I picked up his case, and handed it to him. My head band slipped off my head as I bent down to lock the gate. Dad reached down, and grabbed it.

"Keep it" I spoke weakly. "It's good luck."

He smiled again, but this one had more meaning. Then, like the rest of the men on our street, he left, his long coat protecting him, his case in hand. His hat was the last thing I saw as he walked out of view. Mist hovered around, eating him up. He was gone. Off to fight in a war that had nothing to do with our family. Off to fly a plane, shoot down the German's, protect our country. He was gone. Gone longer then I, or himself expected.



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