ANZAC Day by Lucy

“Come on Poppy!  We are going to be late.” said Dad.  We were going to the ANZAC Day service just me (Poppy), my younger sister Misti and my Dad because my Mum was on a work trip in Paris. 

“Okay!” I yelled downstairs from my bedroom.  I sprinted down the stairs and into the kitchen.  Dad opened the front door, we quickly exited and clambered into Dad’s little purple car.  Dad slammed his foot on the accelerator and we zoomed out the driveway. 

“So what’s so important that we are speeding for?” asked my five year old sister.  “My grandfather fought in the war and was killed in action.  We are going to an ANZAC Day service to commemorate him.” explained Dad.  Misti nodded but didn’t look like she truly understood.  We stopped outside a flower shop and Dad hastily dashed in.  After a few minutes he appeared with an armful of flowers. 

“Poppies for Poppy, tulips for Misti and daffodils for Dad!” he said as he passed us our bouquets. 

As we arrived at the venue for the service we respectfully found a seat.  The air was so cold it almost hurt to breathe. 

“Welcome everybody to the ANZAC service to commemorate the New Zealand and Australian soldiers who lost their lives in fighting for our country.  Now please rise to sing the national anthem.”  The man at the front boomed.  As everyone stood Dad gasped.

“Are you alright Dad?” I asked concerned.  He reached for his asthma inhaler but it wasn’t there. 

“Dad you’re not having an asthma attack are you?” I asked him starting to panic. 

“I think so!” he croaked. 

“Misti, Dad is having an asthma attack, what shall we do?” I asked my little sister.  She started screaming for help as Dad fell to the ground.  I crouched down beside him indicating Misti to keep yelling. 

“He‘s not breathing!” I screamed People rushed over and started to do CPR.  Someone reached for their phone and rang the ambulance service. 

“How old are you sweetie?” someone asked. 

“Twelve and she is five.” I cried. 

“Is there anyone you can ring?” asked another. 

“No!” I said.  Mum was over in Europe on a work trip and wasn’t due to be back for 2 weeks.  Gran and Grandpa were on holiday in Wellington and they didn’t have cell phones and my cousins, Auntie and Uncle were staying at their batch in Taupo.  I heard sirens screaming and an ambulance zoomed into the car park.  Two paramedics rushed over to Dad carrying a stretcher and loaded him on.  We followed them into the ambulance and took a seat.  They started giving him oxygen and tried to restart his heart and get him breathing again.  Fifteen minutes later they gave up. 

“I’m sorry kids your Dad’s gone.” the paramedic informed us.

“No!” we started wailing and they comforted us.  They whisked Dad off and the police came to talk to us.  I told them Mum’s cell phone number and they punched the numbers in.  They passed the phone to me obviously not wanting to break the bad news. 

“B’ring b’ring.” the phone rang loud in my ear.

“Hello, Sylvie speaking.” My Mum answered the phone.  It broke my heart to hear her talking so cheerfully.  I paused for a moment not knowing what to say.  “Is anyone there?” Mum asked.  “Hi Mum it’s me Poppy.” I said quietly.  “Hi darling!” she hollered back.

“There is some bad news.” I said and burst into tears.  The police prised the phone from my hand and started muttering.  All I heard over the tears was

“I’m so sorry… come back quickly if possible… Oh I see… Oh dear… Thank you, bye.” and with that the policewoman hung up. 

“What’s wrong?” I sniffed not wanting to hear more bad news. 

“Your Mum can’t get back because of the volcanic ash in the air, the planes aren’t flying its too dangerous.” Minnie explained as that was the woman’s name.  I gripped Misti who was still bawling. 

“I heard about that on the news, so she is stranded in Europe?” I wailed. 

“I’m afraid so.” The policeman with a gruff voice whispered.  Misti dug her fingers into my back and squeezed me tightly. 

“You don’t know any other family here?” the man questioned.  I shook my head.  “Friends?” and I nodded.  As we drove back home in the police car Minnie rung my friend Angel. 

“Angel and her parents will look after you in your house until your Mum gets back.” Minnie assured me.  Usually it would have been awesome if Angel stayed at my house but it just felt like the world was going to end.  I was also worried about Mum over in Europe trying to cope with it by herself.  At least I had Misti and she had me.  I looked at Misti to see what she thought of the arrangement but she had drifted off to sleep.  Angel, Tatum (Angel’s brother), Stephen and Marnie (Angel’s parents) were outside our front door when the police car pulled up.  As I stepped out the door Misti woke up and Angel raced up and hugged Misti and I.  They looked after us for a week and then one morning a taxi pulled up outside.  It was Mum!  Misti’s eyes were still ringed with red from crying but she looked moderately happy for the first time in a week.  We rushed outside and hugged her.  Several days later was Dad’s funeral.  One quiet afternoon Misti, Mum and I visited Dad’s grave.  Mum placed the daffodils Dad had bought the day he died and Misti placed the tulips.  They walked off.  When they had left I placed the poppies my hair whipping round my shoulders.  I looked at the distant sunset and whispered

“I love you Dad.”  I headed over to Mum and Misti and we linked arms and walked off towards the sunset without saying a word.