Click here to hear a story made by a 5th grader in McNair Middle School
Here I am in the World War I museum as an old Renault Tank, wasting away sitting daft to day on my dusty display case. What’s worse, I have terrible allergies. There’s cats, dogs, dust, and well that doesn’t matter anymore. I never thought I would miss being in the war, but I do. I wonder if this is how the other tanks feel. Did the trojan horse ever miss being part of something bigger than itself. May 1918, when Rodolphe Ernst-Metzmaier invented me, I loved to roll around the battlefield, instead of being held captive in this museum. I like the workers pretty well, but none of the other artifacts talk very much, at least not to me. I can’t help but wonder if soldiers survived without me. I mean, my armor protected them from flying bullets and bombs, so I think I was useful. Britain and France built more than 5,000 tanks just like me. I wonder if they were friendly, I am friendly right? Most think that being in the war was scary, but I have very thick armor, so I was never too worried about getting hurt. I went 4.3 mph. I could always roll over barbed wire, but I rather not prove it. It’s poking on my tires and that does hurt. Although I am used as a weapon, I do not like hurting anything or anyone. Over the years, in the museum, I have learned to read. There’s a small sign that sits next to me in my display case. I think it says, if a tank succeeds, victory falls. I could be wrong though. Tanks don’t go to school, you know.I don’t really work anymore. Come by and visit at the World War 1 museum.
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