LA Home Learning - Task 1

The poem that i have chosen is Children In The Darkness by Henry M. Bechtold.

The poem was written in the year 2009, during Christmas in Henry's hotel room during his stay at Saigon. He was inspired to write this poem when he saw a photo of a young boy carrying a rifle going to war in the news.

In the poem, Henry M. Bechtold talks about children who are involved in the war. In the past 20 years, there have been millions of children that have been used in war or dragged into it by their parents. They are usually used as nurses and spies. Sometimes they are used as guards of resources, general camps, drumboys, and worst of all, infantries put at the front line to test for enemy land mines.

War - A Living Hell

I sat in the boat, fearful for my life. The boat moving up and down, making me seasick, was not helping me either. I was scared for the coming battle. As we neared Omaha Beach, I started to hear the sounds of battle and hell. Artillery shells and gunshots everywhere. I heard the distinctive "ping! ping!" as the bullets hit our metal boat. This only served to intensify my fear. I thought of my family, and I feared that I would never return to them. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, the physical manifestation of my fear. Then, suddenly, I heard the whistle, and I saw the ramp lowered. Immediately, I saw my friends at the front of the boat fall amidst a cloud of red. My fear went up another notch. All of us who tried to charge forward were stopped in our tracks by the unknown gunners manning the turrets at the defensive position ahead of us. I saw people jumping off the boat into the water in a desperate bid to escape from the boat. I followed suit, plunging into the water.

In the water, the world became tranquil, albeit a tranquil, silent world with bullets diving into the water in every direction.I saw some more of my comrades stop moving in a spreading pool of red. I surfaced.

Out of the water, I felt that I had taken the boat to hell. there was fire and smoke everywhere, bullets flying, artillery shells driving into the ground, bringing up a crater-full of earth with each impact. I saw my comrades slowly and desperately moving across the beach, towards our turret wielding enemies. Seeing this, i thought "How am I going to survive this?" all around i saw each and every sign of destruction in Omaha Beach.

War- A Personal Response

I am describing the 8th photo, of the soldier taking cover behind a piece of sheet metal. The atmosphere is one of fear and anxiety. The fear and desperation that the soldier feels is very apparent in the war zone. He lies low on rubble behind a piece of metal covered with bullet holes, his fear and desperation apparent as he tries to hide from the bullet fire all around him. He looks around anxiously, clearly afraid of the enemy, and desperate to keep his life and return to his family. This photo invokes a sense of empathy with his fear and desperation, as he clearly looks scared desperate and it conveys that fear and desperation to the viewer. The viewer can really feel his fear and his feelings coming out from him.The message conveyed in this photo is the fear and desperation that war creates out of Man. Out of many other war photos, I find that this photo portrays and conveys the fear and desperation of a soldier in a war zone the best, as the soldier's feelings and emotions of fear and desperation are clearly expressed in the photo. The fact that the photo is black and white only accentuates the death, fear , and desperation that War creates.

How To Make An Awesome BANANA SPLIT

I am now going to reveal the secret art of making the worlds' most famous and amazing dessert: the BANANA SPLIT. (so you guys will not create something that kills with contact and because I have to)

You will need:

1 Tasty radiation free Banana (Nothing from Japan)

3 Scoops of Melamine Free Ice-cream of any flavour that recipient likes (Nothing from China)

1 Bottle of preheated chocolate syrup that DOES NOT KILL (DO NOT heat the bottle)

1 Can of Melamine free Whipped Cream (No China Whipped Cream)

1 NON-LETHAL and GOOD LOOKING bowl that a banana can fit in (DO NOT steal from a posh restaurant)

AND...

Any amount of nuts that satisfy recipient (DO NOT TAKE A TRUCKLOAD; make sure it all fits in the bowl)

THE way to make it.....

1. Peel your Not From Japan Tasty Radiation Free Banana

2. Cut the Not From Japan Tasty Radiation Free Banana in half

3. Put the two pieces of Not From Japan Tasty Radiation Free Banana in the Not Stolen From A Posh Restaurant Non-Lethal and Good Looking Bowl That A Banana Can Fit In.

4. Put your Not From China Melamine Free Ice-cream in the Not Stolen From A Posh Restaurant Non-Lethal and Good Looking Bowl alongside the Tasty Radiation Free Banana pieces

5. Drizzle the bottle of Preheated chocolate syrup that does not kill all over the Banana and Ice cream.

6. Apply Melamine Free Whipped Cream and Nuts

7. Recipient may begin eating the now completed BANANA SPLIT.

LA onlne lesson -letter to Japan

Lim Residence,
Cardboard Box On The Street

Singapore 593847
30th March,2011

Dear Mr. Jones,
I have read the story that you wrote about your unfortunate situation and your trying to escape the panic that has taken over the country. Therefore, I am writing to you to ease your worries.
I agree that many people are panicking unnecessarily and that the media is increasing that panic by reporting there is increasing panic in the country. I can sympathize with your feelings and emotions and i think that all the panic is really unnecessary and that the source of the hysteria is really the minds of the people in Tokyo, although it is really worrisome that the radiation will spread to Tokyo.

I understand that you feel as worried as the other people in Tokyo. But do not worry. Already the world is rallied to help Japan and has sent aid and resources. Japan has faced many disasters before and has always bounced back to resume life. This disaster should be no different. Soon, life will return to normal and the panic will subside.

As the saying goes "when the going gets tough, the tough get going." You are strong, not following the crowd and panicking all over the place. Do not let this disaster affect your spirit. You still have a family, and all of you are safe, and that is the most important thing. Please bounce back from the hysteria of Japan; I believe you can do it. This is just a small obstacle in life. Do not let it block you. Deal with it and move on, as strong men do. I believe in you and i am sure that many others do too!

May your spirit stay strong!!

Wei Yang
The Singaporean who is with you all the way in spirit

Setting

"We're lost aren't we? Admit it!" The most annoying person in the world, my sister Zhi yi said. "No we're not" I replied, checking the map in my hand."We are at Tampinse Street 11. We are almost home." "Yeah, right. That sign would say different." I looked where she was pointing "Brooke Road" the sign said. My spirits plummeted. She was right, again. " I heard that there are a lot of gang fights in this area. " She said. Inwardly, I groaned. As if this day, or night could get any worse. Just as that thought formed in my mind, I saw 20 people dressed like gangsters across the street. If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead by now. One of them looked at me, smiled, and took out a chopper out of some hidden pocket........

Becoming Ver.2

5 p.m., 21^st July 1964. That day would always be burned in my mind. It was a day of great sadness and also one of great transformation. I was 10 at that time, and I not only witnessed one of the bloodiest and worst riots in Singapore history, I was also dragged into it.

“HELP!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as I ran past buildings on the deserted street. Close behind me were a gang of Malay men who have taken upon themselves to liberate the life of every Chinese they saw. They took one look at me, a harmless 10 year old boy, and gave chase immediately, with parangs in their hands. I took off like my life depended on it, which it did. As I dashed from street to street, running faster than I had ever done in my life, no doubt due to the insanely large amounts of adrenaline pumping through my body, I saw a house. It looked like somebody lived in there. Salvation! I sprinted towards the house, my attackers close behind me. As I reached the house, I started banging on the door. “Open the door!! Help!!” I pleaded to the Malay man on the other side of the door who I could not see. ”Help!! They are coming to kill me!!” 5 seconds passed. “Please…..Open the door” tears were pouring down my cheeks. I was at the doorstep but that man just would not open the door to help me! The Malays would be here any second…. I continued to plead. Around me, groups of Chinese and Malays were brutally slugging it out on the street. Another excruciatingly anxious 5 seconds. Just as the Malay gangsters turned the corner, the door flung open and a pair of strong arms reached out and grabbed me. When I saw the big, burly Malay man grab me, my first thought was that he was going to finish what the gangsters started, but then he said a gentle voice said “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me. It’s going to be fine” Through the window I saw the gangsters looking for something in the chaos outside, no doubt me. They saw the house where I was hiding, and their eyes narrowed, as though they had x-ray vision, and they saw me in that house, shivering in fear. After another excruciating 10 seconds, by chance they somehow saw the Malay man. They were surprised and immediately gave him an apologetic look and joined their ‘brothers’ in their war against the Chinese.

“Thank you sir, thank you for saving me” words could not express my gratitude towards the Malay family who risked all their lives to help me from the horrors of racism. I could only thank them profusely “These are dangerous times. Why don’t you lie low for a while until all this dies down?” The kind Malay man asked me. I thought about my parents, caught in the riot at its worst, and figured that they would want me safe from this, at least. Hence, I accepted.

The following 12 days were the most fear-filled ones of my life. The government had imposed a curfew after the first 3 days of rioting. As a result, everyone stocked up on food. This led to a food shortage. The owners of the provision shop took advantage of this, and increased their prices. Food prices shot up faster than a rocket. Many times the Malay family had to borrow food from the neighbors so that we would not starve. I lived in constant fear that the Malay rioters would discover me and kill me or worse.

The riot lasted about 12 days. 12 days of fear and hiding. During that time I vowed to help the community improve the peoples’ lives to the best of my ability. A few days after the riot, I chanced upon my parents looking for me everywhere. They had put up posters with my face just about everywhere. The joy then was immense, it equaled my gratitude towards the Malay family, whom I found out were the Azhar family. After thanking them again, I left them and we soon lost contact, but not before Mr. Azhar gave me a keychain with a bird hand carved in the Malay style. “For good luck” Mr. Azhar explained.

15 years later, I was a young man of 25. I had already set up my own business and was a millionaire, one of the youngest in Singapore. True to my vow so many years back, I donated much of my wealth on charity, improving the lives of many whom I don’t know but who know me. I received many community service awards for my contributions to society.

One day I was in Kampong Glam. I saw this frail Malay old man. This man looked familiar. I knew him, yet I didn’t. His face was a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar. I racked my brains, trying to place find a match in my memory, but to no avail. I know that I knew him, but I just could not remember him. As I was lost in thought thinking about who that old man was, I accidentally bumped into him. “Sorry” I apologized. Still lost in thought, I started to walked off. “Hey young man, “the old man called to me “you dropped your-hey is that the keychain I made?” I turned around. The old man was holding the keychain that I received from Mr. Azhar so many years ago! “Really?” I asked “then that means….” I trailed off. As I looked at the old man closely, I began to see a resemblance. I saw past the wrinkles, the white hair, and I saw Mr. Azhar, the man who saved me from a terrible fate and helped me in my time of need. I immediately greeted him, and soon we started chatting. I realized that he was in a bit of trouble financially. Apparently he got cheated by some conman who said that he would help him ‘invest’ his money. Mr. Azhar gave him a good bit of his money, and the man was never seen again. I remembered how Mr. Azhar helped me in my time of need, so I decided to return the favor. I gave him a cheque to tide him over the tough times and we exchanged contact numbers and addresses.

After finding the man who saved my life, I was determined that I would not lose contact with him again. He and I became good friends and this time, our relationship lasted.