Through The Eyes of An Australian Lighthorse

This story is a horse's point of view since we read so many books or short stories that's in a person's POV I thought this would be different. It's nothing like War Horse, it's base more on Beersheba, and the 4th division of the Australian Light horses - Who changed the war history by charging into Beersheba and manage to get under the guns. A bit of this was based on two poems one by Wilfred Owen and Albert Lord Tennyson. It was also based on the movie the Australian Lighthorsemen :)

The ground shudders as the feet of the eight hundred light horses from the fourth division stumble to our destination. I notice a mare that is struggling slightly in the deep sand. But I make no sound to encourage her to keep going. The gelding next to me nipped me a bit on the neck to get my attention. "That mare is struggling isn't she?" he seems to ask through his tired and worn out eyes.

Lifting my head and shaking it the metal on my bridle rattles. Both of us snorted and pin our ears back. I may be young and strong – but I have my fears on losing my rider and my friends. But not afraid to die, everyone in this division wants this war to end badly. Noticing the officer and his horse galloping towards the end – letting everyone know that we're stopping. Finally! I think, sighing in relief as the extra weight of my rider lift off my back.

Rubbing my sorrel chestnut head on my sorrel chestnut leg, and then rubbing my head on my soldier's body almost pushing him over in the process. The officer's stallion came back up the line and stop next to me. Without looking up at him I stated: "We're near Beersheba aren't we." He was a big horse standing at sixteen hands high with a black coated body and a big white blaze down his face, he sighed and answered me. "Yes, we are near Beersheba."

We kept quiet and watch as the soldiers use the strange looking thing that has water inside it. I nudge my rider wanting the water, that I gave a snort and stamp my hoof on the ground. Pulling a tantrum like a one-year-old colt. Which earn me a few chuckles from my rider's mates and the officer. Henry, my rider pull his hat off his head and poured water inside it, holding it up to me. I greedily started drinking and loving the cool water in my mouth. The other soldiers followed the action of what Henry has done for me and did the same.

Everyone looked up as the ground of hooves hitting the ground as two upper-rank officers and their horses yelling at the troops to get on their mounts and to line up for the charge to the Beersheba. Many men have protested saying that's insane and crazy. "What are you thinking?!" one man shouted, angrily - but in all truth, he was scared by the way he was shaking. I soon realize it his mount was the mare that struggled in the deep sand.

The rest of us stared at them, the other horses and I snort nervously about this charge. There is no way we can make it! It's far too dangerous! They'll lose a lot of horsemen and light horses. These thoughts ran through my head, everything about this I have a negative thought. I didn't realize that Henry thrown the reins over my head and picking up the reins as he got on, I rolled my eyes back showing trepidation that something bad is going to happen in this charge.

My mind still has the crazy possibilities bad things that'll happen. I felt Henry shifted his seat his nervous energy is being transported to me making myself even more nervous. Giving a snort and pinning my ears right back and taken a bite of another horse who tried to do the same to me but gotten a smack on the neck and a growl.

Giving a sigh as Henry still hasn't calmed down and I'm ready to kick out. Giving a snort and a stamp my hoof on the ground as if saying, "Calm the bloody hell down Henry!" as I walk to the line-up with the other light horses. The nervous energy, as well as fear, ran through all of us, we know what's going to happen. Listening carefully to the plan about the charge as the men talk.

"Good luck." Someone said in the background.

Soon a few horses including myself moved to the front with someone who's in charge. "WALK!" the man in charge yelled, I felt a quick but firm tap on my ribs asking me to move. We walked about two metres before breaking into a trot for another half.