In English, students had to research a historical conflict and write from the perspective of someone involved. Hayley chose to write from the perspective of a rebel in the Hungarian Revolution. Her story is purposeful and unflinching. She also journalled her writing process extensively. This is included below her writing. It really enhances and illuminates the narrative itself.
Bang!
There’s constant gunfire all around me, but that particular bang catches my attention. I look towards my friend with a bad feeling in my gut. She falls to the ground.
Thud!
I immediately hold her in my arms. There’s a bullet in her abdomen. Only one thought comes to my mind–get out of here. I carry her on my back, one hand holding her steady, the other clutching a rifle. Dashing through the crowd, the men in green uniforms are firing at us. This street, in the city centre, where people go on walks, get a drink, and eat a meal, is now a battlefield.
My legs start to tremble, the weight of a dying body is too much for me. I lay my friend on the pavement, which is already covered with dead bodies, a lot of them aren’t even part of this revolution, some of them are just civilians walking by, innocent civilians.
Soviet tanks are coming our way from afar. I can’t anymore. My hands are tempted to grab my friend and flee, but I can’t just leave now. We just secured the Corvin Passage two days ago and we’re so close to getting those Soviets out. The tanks are inching closer and closer. I’m stuck.
I’m helpless…
Out of nowhere, people are bringing out translucent oval-shaped white objects. People are laying them on the street. Bombs! The tanks stop. It worked. We fire at the remaining ground soldiers. Half of them retreat with the tanks, and the remaining ones either drop down injured or die or surrender.
I kneel beside my friend. Her hands are cold. I know she’s not going to make it out of this place alive. She looks at me with her clear blue ocean eyes, glimmering in the bright sun. It gives me a broken yet warm feeling.
I take a mental picture of it, knowing it’s going to be the last time I’ll ever see them. Knowing that she might die in this moment. I look at my friend, my arms encircling her, giving a warm hug to her freezing body. My hands are exhausted from all the fighting, but I refuse to let go. I would hold on to her even if my hands were falling off.
It’s not fair, but from the moment we picked up the rifles and went on the streets. We were both ready to die. For Hungary.
She doesn’t talk, I’m also silent. I have a million words to say yet I can’t even let out a sound. Her eyes are fixed on me, she grins. ‘It was all worth it.’ She whispers. And then, nothing. Now in my arms is a body with no soul. I lay her down for the last time.
A week ago, we were just university students. Now, we are insurgents driven by the calling of freedom. Now, I am alone.
There’s no looking back.
There’s hope for this revolution. There still could be a future for Hungary if we fight for it. I won’t let my friend’s sacrifice go in vain.
I walk to the bombs and take a good look at it. In front of me were not dangerous explosives but porcelain plates, used to trick the tanks. Stupid Soviets.
‘Stupid Soviets.’ I exclaim. I’m in a dark room, hands tied. I can’t remember the last time I slept. In front of me are two men in green uniforms speaking in Russian. One of them looks at me with his cold blue eyes. He takes something out of his cloak and raises it to my forehead, my rifle. How ironic. My heart feels hollow, and the air around me is cold. I know exactly what’s going to happen next. The man whispers, grinning, ‘It was all worth it, wasn’t it?’
Without hesitation, I say, ‘For Hungary.’
Bang. Thud.
From the Author
While researching about Australian refugees, I came across an article about Andrew’s story. It is about the experience of Andrew escaping Hungary at mist the Hungarian Revolution in 1956. Before reading this, I didn’t even know Hungary was a communist country let alone a revolution happened. I became interested in the topic and did some further research on it. I learnt about the gun battles that happened in civilian areas, shooting people randomly, people fighting against the communist government, normal people like students, workers, even soldiers. A lot them died, got injured, or fled. Though the revolution wasn’t successful, I admire the courage of the people who went out to fight. At first, I wanted the story to be about 3 friends in the revolution, one a student, the other a factory worker, and a soldier that supports the uprising. One of them dies and the other two flees Hungary to Australia. This was based on the first article I read. Every ‘her’ in the story were originally ‘he’ s. This was until I came across a picture while researching. Something about this picture moved me. A woman holding a rifle, standing in front of a tank. It’s such a contrast with her entire getup. She looks like any woman you would see walking down the streets, yet she looks determined, holding a rifle like a seasoned solider which made me think, what did she go through on the streets? That’s why I want to base a story around her. She’s a fighter. She’s strong. I want to write a short story in honour and display the courage of the people in Hungary who fought for their freedom.
The two friends in the story are inspired by them. The one on the left is anonymous. The one on the right is a 15 year old girl named Erika.
While writing, I did more research on the topic to make sure every detail is as accurate as possible. The entire story is based on the girl in the first photo fighting in the battle of Corvin Passage. I originally planned for the story to end at the line ‘There’s so looking back’, but I came across an article saying ‘Thousands of Hungarians were arrested, tortured, tried, and imprisoned in concentration camp or were executed’ and I felt like I needed to write something about people not only dying while fighting or just casually gets shot down for existing, but also getting killed at the aftermath of the revolution. It didn’t feel right writing a story that depicts a successful revolution when in reality, the success lasted for a few days, then the Soviet Union absolutely crushed the rebels. For the people who fought, it was not a happy ending at all. I want to capture the feeling of a friend dying in your arms, the desire to free the country you love so much and the willingness to die for it.
The Hungarian Revolution 1956 sums up a lot of the research related to the Hungarian revolution.
This really made me think more about things that happened in the past. It gave me more of an insight in what lengths people would go to for the things they love.
