The bloodshed of the attack By Meridian Harrap
December 3rd 1854 Dear diary I am one lucky chap, because I was one of the leaders of the Eureka stockade protest they aimed at me first. I was lucky to get away, as for the people in my group. Well let’s say some of the men in my group didn’t make it. If you were not hidden away, you were in danger, big danger. As I was crossing the gully to get back to my tent, an infernal trooper on his way to Ballarat purposely took aim at me. He raised his mini rifle and fired. Once more me not knowing if I should fight back or run and hide. The pistol whizzed by me and hit the brim of my cabbage-tree hat and blew it off my head until it landed by another women who was standing out side the tent near by called Mrs Davis who ran and hid. Many of the miners in the stockade were killed and many more were injured. On returning to the bloodshed I was distraught.
I hastened at what I was looking at. Most people who where with me were just laying there, crippled with shots, the blood pouring out of their wounds. Their clothes where covered in it. But I still ask myself, was it all worth it?