Ah Kun! Ah Kun! my niggle screamed, her shrill voice reverberating through the house. I turned my head around, still reeling from shock. I could see the anxiety on my mothers tone as she pulled my 15-year-old brother and I towards the air raid shelter, on with throngs of people who were desperate for safety. As more bombs fell, my heart palpitated wildly as we hurdled together, intimidated by the descending explosives. As we waited for the resolve for us to go back, perspiration trickled down my spine. The musty olfactory property of the shelter, in addition to the crowd that was cramped in the shelter, speed up the tension within the four walls.
Before long, the announcement for us to go home echoed repeatedly. Walking back home, we could see the monetary value left by the Japanese, the carnage of scattered bodies and broken houses, well-nigh of which were beyond repair.
Upon reaching our house, we looked at each other in apparent disbelief. It had not been damaged at all! My mother immediately knelt down in thanksgiving, tears trickling down her eyes.
As the days passed, normal life resumed. People had nervous looks etched on their faces; despite the regulator continually assuring us that capital of Singapore was an impregnable fortress. When news that the Japanese forces had conquered Kuala Lumpur, people engender amassing in harbours, attempting to flee the country. Confidence in the British governor was drained from their faces, replaced by distraught and fear.
On 15 February, Singapore had fallen. As our new master took control...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Orderessay
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