Tooloom Valley

by Zepha Shofay – Age 7, Urbenville Public School

I WAS THERE in the early hours of the morning.  

It was a misty morning when the booming guns echoed through the Tooloom Valley. The original firearms aimed towards the sunrise, just like the soldiers at Gallipoli, we remembered.  

We held the flags and sang with our heads held low, in sorrow, in remembrance. The cool wind blew in my face.  

I wondered what the soldiers thought as they waited to go over that big hill off the boats. I looked across the rays of sunshine and felt sad.