Alpington & Bergh Apton C of E VA Primary School

This is magnificent by Elliot!!

Well done.

THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS

It was the early morning of the fourteenth of October 1066; two great armies were preparing to fight for the English throne. On a hilltop seven miles from Hastings stood the forces of Harold, who had been crowned king nine months before. On the far side of the valley we were stationed, the fearless troops of William the Conqueror, the Duke of Normandy and the rightful King of Britain. Our troops were gearing up for this mighty battle. I was equipped with a sword and shield and was dressed up in chain mail armour. I was trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. This was what all my training was for, all those hard months of practicing had all led up to this moment. My horse was rearing to go as the sound of trumpets came from both sides signalling battle.

 

My stallion thundered into the fight as William the Conqueror shouted “Charge!” As I rode, I saw that are foes didn’t have much cavalry which made it slightly easier to pick them of at high speed. I also noticed that they didn’t have many archers which probably explains how they got there so quickly as bowmen usually go by feet. A young soldier decided to charge at me which didn’t go well for him because as soon as he was in range I plunged my sword into his heart. he slumped to the floor, his eyes blank and lifeless.  We were doing well until a rumour began to spread that are leader had been killed which terrified a lot of us as we thought we had lost. A small group even ran off, scared for their lives. I don’t really blame them, and I was going to do the same until William galloped to the front line and exclaimed “Don’t run you fools, I’m still alive!” and I knew there was still something to fight for. The battle lasted all day and I almost encountered death several times. My horse was shot down by one of the few archers they had on the battlefield and unfortunately died but I didn’t have any time to mourn for my trusty steed as the battle was still raging on but the death of my horse just made me angrier and I went on a rampage. I fought valiantly, striking down every enemy I came across, but as night drew closer, I began to get tired. I could feel the strength draining out of me. Just as I was using the last of my power to strike down another foe, a horn was blown and the loud voice of William the Conqueror said, “Troops of Harold, it appears that are forces were better prepared and stronger.” He boasted “It has come to my attention that your leader, Harold, has been slain in battle by one of my soldiers, lay down your weapons and surrender or suffer the consequences!” I couldn’t believe it. We had emerged victorious against all the odds. Britain, a kingdom that had been trained by the Romans, the greatest empire the world had ever seen was defeated by us, the small nation of Normandy on the coast of France with nobody to train us except for ourselves. Better yet, all the soldiers were promised a big chunk of fertile land for us and are families each if we won. I was overjoyed. I couldn’t wait to tell my family that we secured the throne for William and now the Britain’s no longer had to deal with the Vikings raiding and pillaging their homes and looting their monasteries. We had surely made England a better place.