Conversation by Patricia Grace ‘You went to the war, Grandpa?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And you got wounded?’ ‘Yes boy, wounded.’ ‘You got wounded how, Grandpa?’ ‘Ah well, you see boy, your Grandpa, he was out with his gun looking for the enemy. Just your Grandpa and his two mates looking. And then over the hill they came — a hundred of them, rifles, hand grenades, all sorts, and started blasting. Whew! Your Grandpa and his mates ran for it. Yes, we took off, boy. Then looked back and saw the enemy bullet coming after me and said “Run, Grandpa, run” and ran like a hare on the hill. Then came a big barb wire fence and took a dive through….’ ‘And the bullet got you, Grandpa?’ ‘No boy, the fence. The fence scratched your Grandpa all around here. Oh all around. And your Grandpa got up all sore and ran hard back to camp.’ ‘And you got a medal, Grandpa?’ ‘Ah no son, not then. You don't get a medal when you run away from an enemy bullet and you scratch your backside on a barb wire.’ ‘But you were brave, Grandpa?’ ‘Yes, they say so. They say your Grandpa was a brave soldier.’ ‘Who said, Grandpa?’ ‘All his soldier mates, all the people back home, they all heard about your Grandpa. They all say he was a brave soldier…. But boy sometimes he didn't feel very brave inside him, your Grandpa. ‘In the war your Grandpa's job was to take the messages. Young and fit then, with the legs of Mainbrace (you know that race horse, son?). His job to run like Mainbrace through the lines carrying the messages. Oh with the bullets flying all about. ‘Grandpa's soldier mates lay in the trenches calling to your Grandpa, calling to him to help him run with his messages through the lines. That's why they say your Grandpa was a brave soldier. Even now the old soldiers at the reunion say to me, “I saw you running, over in France!” They remember, yes they remember.’ ‘You were very brave, I think, Grandpa.’ ‘Not inside boy. Inside him your Grandpa was like a little rabbit. You come close to a rabbit and the rabbit does not run. He stands watching and shivering. “Shoo rabbit”, you shout and off he goes like the wind. Inside your Grandpa was a little rabbit shivering, waiting for someone to tell him “Go”. Then away went the legs, the fastest legs in the Battalion, through the trenches, through the lines and the shells dropping, and not a wound, only a barb wire scratch and that's all.’ ‘Lot's of times I have a rabbit inside me, Grandpa, but it stays there shivering and trembling and I can't make it go. It stays. But I want to be brave like you.’ ‘You mean when you play football, and you see a big fellow coming in to tackle, and he's big and the ground is hard?’ ‘It's not bad then Grandpa. At first I feel scared when I see a big fellow coming at me. But then the legs take over, like your legs Grandpa, and I think about running fast. And if I do hit the ground it doesn't seem too bad, especially if I've got the ball away. It's not that. No I don't mean that.’ ‘What is it then, son? What is it that frightens you? The new grown-ups?’ ‘Sometimes the grown-ups. Even the kids sometimes.’ ‘Who then?’ ‘Mostly the teachers and the headmaster and all the kids who know a lot. Grandpa, I don't want to go back there. I can't. I'm no good there — I can't talk, I can't do anything.’ ‘But you know your lessons?’ ‘Not bad. Some things I can do as good as anyone. But they ask me about things and I don't say anything. I don't know what to say and I'm too scared.’ ‘A big rabbit inside then?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Because you are different?’ ‘I don't know their ways. I think they'll laugh at me.’