World War One Collection: Private Peaceful, A Medal for Leroy, Farm Boy

World War One Collection

Michael Morpurgo

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Private Peaceful

A Medal for Leroy

Farm Boy

Copyright

About the Publisher

For my dear godmother,

Mary Niven

Contents

Cover

Dedication

Five Past Ten

Twenty to Eleven

Nearly Quarter Past Eleven

Ten to Midnight

Twenty-Four Minutes Past Twelve

      Nearly Five to One

      Twenty-Eight Minutes Past One

      Fourteen Minutes Past Two

      A Minute Past Three

      Twenty-Five Past Three

      Nearly Four O’Clock

      Five to Five

      One Minute to Six

      Postscript

      Author’s Note

Acknowledgment

They’ve gone now, and I’m alone at last. I have the whole night ahead of me, and I won’t waste a single moment of it. I shan’t sleep it away. I won’t dream it away either. I mustn’t, because every moment of it will be far too precious.

I want to try to remember everything, just as it was, just as it happened. I’ve had nearly eighteen years of yesterdays and tomorrows, and tonight I must remember as many of them as I can. I want tonight to be long, as long as my life, not filled with fleeting dreams that rush me on towards dawn.

Tonight, more than any other night of my life, I want to feel alive.

Charlie is taking me by the hand, leading me because he knows I don’t want to go. I’ve never worn a collar before and it’s choking me. My boots are strange and heavy on my feet. My heart is heavy too, because I dread what I am going to. Charlie has told me often how terrible this school-place is: about Mr Munnings and his raging tempers and the long whipping cane he hangs on