Battle of Stanford Bridge

Journal

Lately I have been on quite an interesting trip to 1066 to experience a legendary battle. The Battle of Stamford Bridge. I became a Viking called Olaf Henriksson; I live in Norway and I’m a fishmonger. It all started early September…

September 14
We were just about to invade England, when our leader Harald Hadraada gave an electrifying speech, motivating us all. Vikings shall rein England once again.
September 18
We arrived early this morning on the British coast. The first thing we did was to invade York, but my battalion didn’t, so I wasn’t there. Meanwhile we set up camp around the bridge, relaxing and preparing to fight. We knew it would take a long time for Harold’s army to arrive, so we were having the time of our lives.
September 25
After 7 days of settling and preparing, on the horizon we could see a cloud of dust. Strange weather. We noticed it getting bigger and coming in our way. A friend of mine called Thon Frederickson reckons it’s the Saxon army, but we all refused his idea. They couldn’t have arrived so quickly. Soon we could see the shapes forming, and it was the faces of angry Saxon warriors. Thon was right. Not only that, but our camp was on the other side of the river.
We all ran as fast as we can to cross the bridge. I saw Thon’s face in the middle of the crowd squelching with blood. Terrorized, I made it to our camp alive. “S… S… Sax… Saxon!” I managed to mutter, although they must’ve already known. My battalion I left on the other side of the bridge were successfully holding out the enemy. The rest of our army and I were getting our axes and spears; we didn’t have time to put our armour on. My battalion didn’t hold on for long and were easily defeated. Right when we thought that they would reduce us to pulp, a brave Norseman courageously stood on the bridge alone. I believe he was one of Haralds elite soldier squad because he held off the Saxons for a remarkably long time. We just had enough time to hear a morale-boosting speech and to put on our helmets.
This was it. We could hear the loud cries of the Saxons as they approached to form their wall. For a few minutes we just chanted and cheer until our throats started scorching. Harald went to make an announcement in front of the entire Saxon army. “The throne of England shall be mine!” he hollered. “Never!” replied Harold Godwineson. And that’s when our walls crashed and our battle commenced. It was brutal and bloody to the bone, if you still had any intact, that is. Our men were falling by the minute, as we didn’t have armour. The sound of swords clashing, shields hitting and skulls breaking continued until dusk. Our army was diminishing; we knew that we were losing.
Soon, I heard some news from a fellow warrior. He said that Harald is dead. We were all demoralized, and the smell of dead bodies didn’t help it either they infiltrated our wall and started eating us up from the inside. I desperately retreated to avoid being killed by the angry Saxon fighters that now surrounded me. Me and some other Vikings ran for our life, quite literally. After they finished us off they celebrated between their king and started running back into the horizon, just like as they came. Few ships were left undamaged so the remaining Vikings and me sailed back to our lands, feeling sick and frustrated. Our villages back home won’t be happy at all with the devastating news of failure. We reeked of it.
Alas, the Viking golden age has come to a close leaving the throne of England to be debated by the Saxons and the Normans.
September 29
We arrived back to Norway to resume our normal lives. That was when I travelled back to 2009.

The end

By Alex Anagnostopoulos