a three drabble set for you. The Aristocrat- Part One With a pedigree that went back for many generations, the aristocrat had always been destined for greatness. He had been born to it, like his father before him. Reared on the plains of Kildare, his life had been an easy one, this gentleman of leisure. His days were spent going to the races, or breaking a light sweat during a game of polo. Inevitably, he would lead the winning side to victory with honours. Later, he would bow his head gentle in acknowledgment of the applause, commoners and gentry alike, and be led off in fanfare to the waiting party. The Aristocrat- Part Two That was before war came, and Ireland, still under British rule, must send its bravest off to die in France. The aristocrat’s life changed on that day in 1911 when war was declared. No longer did he live with a silver spoon in his mouth. He, like everyone else, must go and serve his country. As always he was a natural leader, and therefore, he was the one selected for the fore of the procession down O’Connell Street, past all the buntings and banners, and down to the docks where the ferryboats waited for their long journey overseas to Flanders. The Aristocrat- Part Three Four years he laboured in the muddy fields, with bombs and bullets whistling around his head. Starved almost unto death and worked from dawn until dusk, he led his platoon up each new hill, dragging the heavy gun carriage behind them. So many good warriors had fallen by his side that he no longer took the time to befriend the newcomers, choosing to remain aloof. They thought it was because he considered himself better than the commoners around him, but that was not the truth. He couldn’t take any more loss. The dying war horse soldiered on, leading the way.
Posted on: Tue, 02 Dec 2014 07:10:22 +0000
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