Learning Intention:
We are learning to write a moment in time.
Success Criteria:
We know we have been successful when we:
Write only a small moment in time.
Use quality verbs, e.g. lumber,
Use up to 2 adjectives to describe your noun.
Use a variety of sentences, staccato, compound and complex.
Use a variety of sentence starters.
Have a personal voice.
Try to use some literary devices to enhance your writing.
Remember to check your writing for spelling and punctuation.
Happy writing.
I wake to the sound and smell of bacon frying in the air. As I lumber into the kitchen, Dad greets me with a cheery "good morning!" and I give him a tired smile back. Once my stomach is full with greasy fried eggs and bacon, I drag my feet back to my room and get ready to take the dogs up to the lake for a swim. The crisp morning air slaps me in the face as I step outside and it fully wakes me up.
By Delta (:
Learning Intention:
We are learning to describe the life of a soldier in the trenches in World War 1 by either a letter to their family or a snippet from a diary.
Success Criteria:
We know we have been successful when we
· Describe who they are, what they look like, their thoughts and feelings.
· Describe part of their day, what they see, smell, hear, touch and taste.
· Include the miserable conditions, diseases, food and vermin.
· Write in paragraphs.
· Include gems to paint a picture of what is happening.
· Use quality verbs and adjectives.
· When you are finished check for spelling, punctuation of full stops, commas and capital letters.
14th October
Dear Diary,
Boom, bang, rat a tat, are the ear deafening sounds that assault my ears and souls 24/7, as artillery fire flies over head. High alert is our constant state of mind with adrenalin coursing through our veins. Will we ever win this battle? It is a battle of two fronts, the enemy and the trenches.
Life in the trenches is harsh to say the least. Sleep is caught by sitting up against the muddy trench walls or virtually standing on our feet. As the battle drags on day after day, week after week, month after month we soldier on through thick and thin. We have constant companions of lice, ticks and flies. The chums you do not want.
More and more soldiers are injured or dying as the battle rages. The casualties are evacuated to help by the long suffering stretcher bearer. The dead are left in our trenches. Corpses left to rot and be attacked by rats as big as cats. I feel sick to my stomach. Numbness overcomes me. These men are some mother’s son. Where is their dignity in death? Gone.
The stench from corpses, unwashed bodies, bodies coping with dysentery, persistently attacks my sense of smell. A new form of attack has arrived. Gas, the silent killer. Cloths soaked in urine covering our mouths are our only means of defence.
The autumn rains have arrived and the trenches are floating in water and mud. We slouch through the mud with constant wet damp feet and I know I am developing the dreaded trench foot. Some of my mates have lost a foot already to it.
Food glorious food. What is that? Not here. Hard biscuits, jam, corn beef and stew is our endless diet.
So dear diary the most important thing is, I AM STILL ALIVE.