Author: Straya_ (Idk what you go by on this site besides your username)

Tags: #cacwritingcomp #ch #countryhumans #kokodacampain #kokodatrack #short #story #war #writing

Description:

"@ilovereadingwriting writing contest submission "

Link to OG: https://www.wattpad.com/story/386190222?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=Ilovereadingwriting9

Marked as Mature

My comments at the end.

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Ilovereadingwriting9

Disclaimer: this story is not made to romanticise or spread any message about countries or organisations.
I'm not trying to spread hatred or Ill intent.

I would also like to note that this may not be 100% accurate- as I obviously wasn't there and used the knowledge i have, that I learnt from when i was in school.

Context: The Kokoda Track Campaign:
"The Kokoda Track campaign or Kokoda Trail campaign was part of the Pacific War of World War II. The campaign consisted of a series of battles fought between July and November 1942 in what was then the Australian Territory of Papua."
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kokoda_Track_campaign

The soldiers marched onward, their boots crunching against the rough terrain as they fought valiantly to push the Japanese forces back. Each advance they made felt like an uphill battle across the rugged terrain, often resulting in needing to retreat two steps for every single stride forward. The determination of their enemies was palpable; the Japanese soldiers were renowned for their unwavering commitment to their cause, often willing to lay down their lives in a display of honor and bravery. This ferocious spirit was starkly evident in the heat of battle, as they fought with relentless fervor.

Amidst the chaos and violence, a palpable sense of fear gripped the soldiers. It was a fear that simmered just beneath the surface, hidden behind a façade of bravery and stoic expressions. They exchanged reassuring smiles with one another, a small gesture of mateship that masked the dread lurking within. Each soldier drew strength from their mates, knowing that together they would face the storm, even as the weight of their fears threatened to overwhelm them. The roar of gunfire and the cries of the fallen created a haunting backdrop to their struggle, a constant reminder of the high stakes at play.

Witnessing a fellow soldier fall during the chaos of battle was an experience that these Australian diggers were not accustomed to, yet it was a harsh reality they had to confront. As the sun beat down on the rugged terrain, casting long shadows across the battlefield, the tension hung thick in the air. The men of the Australian platoon were growing increasingly weary, both physically and emotionally drained from the relentless fighting. Around them, the cries of wounded soldiers echoed, a grim reminder of the cost of war.

One by one, their mates fell under the relentless assault of the Japanese troops, each loss felt like a dagger to the heart, chipping away at their resolve. The weight of despair began to settle over the soldiers like a heavy fog, as they struggled not only against the enemy but also against the creeping realization that their hopes for victory were slipping away with every fallen friend. The once vibrant mateship that had bolstered their spirits was now overshadowed by a growing sense of hopelessness, as the fierce battle raged on and the lines of survival blurred ever further, all that they could muster up was a smile of hope... But was it enough?

Could hope get them through this battle or will they fall prey to the fear and bullets...

"Fuck me..." Australia grumbled as a wave of frustration flew through him. He swiftly ducked behind a sturdy, thick-trunked tree, the rough bark pressing against his back. The dense forest surrounding him was both an ally and an obstacle, with its tangled underbrush and towering trees creating a maze that was difficult to navigate. As he moved cautiously through the heavy foliage, each step reminded him of the challenges that lay ahead. This battle was proving to be more gruelling than anticipated, with setbacks and difficulties overshadowing any moments of the advantage he'd hoped to find. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled the air, adding to the urgency of the situation as he steeled himself for what was to come. Australia reloaded his gun as bullets flew through the air, his eyes watched as a bullet aimed squarely between the eyes of another soldier.

Nothing good ever emerges from the chaos of war, and being entrenched in a relentless battle with no path to safety and no reinforcements in sight was a form of hell unlike any other. The soldiers, weary and battle-scarred, felt the oppressive weight of despair as they were steadily driven backward. For every hard-fought step they managed to take forward, it seemed only moments later they were slipping back two steps in the unforgiving tide of conflict.

The objective of this harrowing battle was to drive the forces of the Japanese Empire out of the territory of Papua, a mission that once held a glimmer of hope. Yet, as the days dragged on and the skirmishes intensified, the outcome appeared increasingly bleak. The enemy's advances were relentless, and the horizon bore the looming threat of Port Moresby being overrun. The troops knew that if they could not halt the encroaching forces, it would not be long before the port fell into enemy hands—an outcome that would have dire consequences for their cause, the region, and their very lives and their families back home.

Australia tried to encourage the troops to keep going but even his own words fell short within himself... this was a suicide mission.

The sun gradually sank beneath the horizon, enveloping the landscape in a vibrant orange glow that only accentuated its foreboding, almost hellish appearance. Shadows from the gnarled trees and rocky outcrops stretched long across the parched earth, melding into the growing darkness that hinted at the impending nightfall. The atmosphere was thick with tension, as the air felt heavy and charged, a stark contrast to the fading warmth of the dying day.

Australia steadied his weapon, the metal cool against his hands, determination etched on his face. He focused on maintaining the fight amidst the chaos, but his gaze often drifted toward the faces of the men in his battalion. Each soldier wore a mask of exhaustion and fear, yet there was a flicker of resilience in their eyes, a shared understanding of the battles they had endured. They were brothers in arms, united by the struggles they faced, and as the sun disappeared, the mateship that bound them grew ever more vital against the encroaching darkness. The men were Injured and bleeding but fuck were they determined.

Australia could only think of the words he spoke before this very campaign.
'We fight, not because we hate who's in front of us but because we love who's behind us"

The words resonated in Australia's mind like a haunting refrain, urging him to stay focused as he maintained a steady rhythm with his shots. He crouched low behind the rugged cover of bushes, offering a feeble sense of protection. His heart raced as he scanned the area. With a deep breath, he peered out cautiously, barely exposing himself, and took another calculated shot, the crack of gunfire barely piercing through the sounds upon the battlefield. He fought to survive in the chaotic world around him, praying that maybe he would find a glimmer of light in the darkness and turmoil that surrounded him.

Australia straightened his back, adopting a posture of defiance as he stood against a gnarled tree which he had sought refuge. The chaos of the battle raged around him, distant gunfire echoing like thunderclaps, while the tension in the air felt almost palpable. His soldiers stood in front of him as the enemy lines were behind him. The Australian soldiers' weary faces etched with determination and fatigue. With a slight grin breaking through the grim façade, he sought to infuse his men with the motivation they desperately needed, words of hope and encouragement battling against the backdrop of chaos that threatened to engulf them.

His heart raced as he took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. He reloaded his weapon, a familiar ritual that brought a fleeting sense of comfort- relenting the times he would unload and reload his gun for the pleasure, he remembered being taught the ins and outs of the weapon through his father.

The dull metallic click of the barrel locking out of place momentarily drowned out the sounds of conflict, but his senses remained sharp, alive to every rustle and whisper in the underbrush surrounding them. Just as he clicked the final round into the chamber, a loud crack of a brittle stick snapped sharply to his left, drawing his immediate attention.

Instinctively, he pivoted, raising his gun toward the source of the noise, adrenaline surging through his veins. However, as he focused on the figure emerging from the shadows, he found himself taken aback. The woman standing before him was a stranger, her features obscured by the shadows and dirt of the battlefield. Confusion mingled with caution in his mind as he struggled to assess whether she posed a threat or if she was an ally in disguise.

Her face was one of a country, one very similar to his own. A union jack in the corner, covering over her left brown eye. But rather than the southern cross Australia had, she had a white circle with a crown. And just below the crown on her face the word 'papua' was spelt out.

Whilst Australia knew that his country oversaw the territory of Papua, he never knew that there was a Countryhuman that belonged to these lands. Her dark fuzzy hair, smaller frame, and her flag brought a sigh of relief out of Australia's mouth. The lady smiled at Australia, a smile that he also returned.

"I see you may be in need of some help," the woman said, her voice steady yet warm, cutting through the chaos surrounding them. Australia felt an immediate wave of relief wash over him at her words. Lowering his weapon, he extended his hand towards her, eager to bridge the gap created by their tumultuous situation.

"Very much so. I'm Australia," he introduced himself, his tone filled with gratitude as she grasped his hand in a firm handshake. A smile broke across her face, brightening the tense atmosphere. With a graceful wave of her hand, she signaled to her people, who were cautiously approaching from the shadows, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.

"I'm Papua," she said, her voice now commanding as she quickly began issuing instructions to her people. Watching her, Australia felt a flicker of admiration for her leadership and her help.

"Gather the wounded! We need to get them down to safety," Papua directed, her eyes scanning the scene for those in need, her demeanor fierce yet compassionate. With precise movements, her team sprang into action, some rushing to lift the injured with care, while others hurried down to safety to fetch supplies from the Australian camp, driven by a sense of urgency that emphasized the gravity of their situation.

As more hands joined the effort, Australia couldn't help but be impressed by the mateship he witnessed. These people, brought together by a shared purpose, were rallying to provide support in dire circumstances, embodying hope amidst the chaos. Bringing light to the battle...

The support that Papua offered was exactly what the Australian troops needed during the grim realities of the hellish warfare that ensued. In those desperate moments, Australia found himself compelled to honor Papua deeply and sincerely for her unwavering help when circumstances seemed against their favour. The smile that crossed Australia's face would be one smile hard to be erased in Papuas mind.

This beacon of light and hope founded strength and courage that would resonate in the challenging days ahead. Witnessing the Papuan troops selflessly carrying the injured Australian soldiers through the rugged and demanding terrain was a scene that would forever remain etched in everyones minds. The determination and resilience displayed by the Papuan soldiers with their distinctive fuzzy wuzzy hair helped the Australian troops to feel hope!

They were Australia's fuzzy wuzzy angels.

Words: 1891

The term 'fuzzy Wuzzy angel'

"The name, Fuzzy Wuzzy Angel, was a term of endearment Australian troops gave to the local Papua New Guinea villagers who were recruited during the Second World War to bring supplies to Australian troops and to evacuate injured soldiers."

https://papuanewguinea.travel/goodbye-fuzzy-wuzzy-angel/#:~:text=The%20name%2C%20Fuzzy%20Wuzzy%20Angel,and%20to%20evacuate%20injured%20soldiers.

I would also like to add this poem

"Many a mother in Australia,
When the busy day is done,
Sends a prayer to the Almighty
For the keeping of her son,
Asking that an angel guide him
And bring him safely back—
Now we see those prayers are answered
On the Owen Stanley Track.

For they haven't any halos,
Only holes slashed in their ears,
And their faces worked by tattoos,
With scratch pins in their hair.
Bringing back the badly wounded
Just as steady as a hearse,
Using leaves to keep the rain off
And as gentle as a nurse.

Slow and careful in bad places
On the awful mountain track,
The look upon their faces
Would make you think that Christ was black.
Not a move to hurt the wounded,
As they treat him like a saint;
It's a picture worth recording,
That an artist's yet to paint.

Many a lad will see his mother,
And husbands see their wives,
Just because the fuzzy wuzzies
Carried them to save their lives
From mortar bombs, machine-gun fire,
Or a chance surprise attack,
To safety and the care of doctors
At the bottom of the track.
May the mothers of Australia,
When they offer up a prayer,
Mention those impromptu angels,
With their fuzzy wuzzy hair."

https://anzacportal.dva.gov.au/resources/fuzzy-wuzzy-angels-poems

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Notes from me:

IT'S SO COOL! I love how you wrote about an actual historical event, surprisingly few did. And you introduced me to a thing I didn't even know existed, which is fun.

I'm not sure yet, but there's a chance you'll get first place.