Letter from the trenches

A letter home with details of the conditions on the front line, historical facts or world war one.

Their is a pretty gruesome picture of trench foot in there so be warned. :P

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  • Created by: Mz
  • Created on: 05-12-09 15:29
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Letter From Trenches
Dear my beloved wife Carrie and Daughters, Elizabeth and Anne.
It seems like a century since I have seen your beautiful eyes and held each and one of your
hands with the knowledge that you are safe. I Miss you all deeply and I can only dream that I
will be home soon enough to laugh at your imitations of your school teachers and to eat
and spend at least one mere hour together, but times are hard and out here in the trenches,
life couldn't be more difficult, I pray that this dreadful war will soon finish and I can return
home, which compared to my dugout must be better than heaven.
I write this heartfelt letter from the front line of the trenches. Sitting here in my
damp dugout I have made the decision to give you every detail of my life here; I believe that
you should know the truth because I want my precious family to know and understand the
enormity and gravity of this Great War.
Each day is a new challenge and each day hundreds of innocent men die, men who
have families, lovers, children, parents, friends who are all grieving about them. Each day the
men who I have been with since the beginning, my very best friends, get shot by heart
aching bullets, they get blown up by bombs and killed by disease. With each brave soldier
that gets murdered in this war the terrible image of death, distress and helplessness gets
cut and embedded into my mind, with each dead, lifeless body that falls onto the rotting and
decaying battlefield is a knife stabbing my heart.
My ears ring with the sounds of screams from the wounded, and the gurgling from
the soldiers who's mouths fills with blood depriving them of air making them unable to
breathe, the sound of the rats as they eat the dead bodies and the flesh from those who do
not have enough energy or strength to simply shove them off their limp legs. The ugly, dirty
rats are fattened as they aren't dispossessed of dead to eat; their bodies are the size of a
cat. Most of all the constant sound of machine guns firing bullets and exploding bombs hurt
and deafen me.
My nose is burnt by the smell of rotting flesh, gas and smoke. The stench the
trenches cause me like others to vomit frequently; I am not sure whether this is because of
the fear runs through my veins or by the disgusting and gruesome smell that lingers here on
the front line. The stale air tastes metallic and chemical.
We do not count the months or weeks or days, we count seconds. Every second we
are here is another second that we are alive, and I am lucky to still be alive. I feel so much
more alone than ever. Even though I am surrounded by British troops all in the same
position and I know that Briton's allies France and Russia, the triple Entent, are fighting this
same war with us as our friends against our enemies Germany, Italy and Astro- Hungary who
have named themselves The Triple Alliance, still I feel empty and heartless in this barbaric
It is difficult as this the first war that we, England, has used these weapons and at
the current moment the spade is as indispensable to a soldier as his rifle. The first thing a
man will have to do if he cares for his life at all is to dig a hole in the ground. Each section is
led by high ranked officers, who are very confident however they do no pay attention to the
smaller details such as the changing nature of simple warfare, such as how soldiers can
shoot up to 15 rounds per minute; this is all very well but the problem is the opposition can
I have spoken briefly with many soldiers, usually under aged boys who have snuck
into the army. The majority of the men were as mislead as I was. They followed the pals
battalions scheme and volunteered with their friends only to end up to see them all die.
The image of war being fun that the government are saying is a lie. All the advertising on
cigarette packs and the government's views is the opposite of real life. I cannot say how
much physical and mental strength, god's guidance and sheer luck that you need to be able

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Letter From Trenches
to survive at least one day. Many of the young boys who fight beside me were pressured
into it by their girlfriends; it is a shame that they will never see them again. This vicious game
is petrifying and I cannot find enough words to say how much I wish I was at home with you.…read more

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Letter From Trenches
was nothing I could do; he crawled halfway back, close enough for me to see the despair in
his eyes. The determination for me to save him must have changed something because then
for those few seconds I didn't care about anything else but getting my best friend back. I
didn't care about the flying bullets or dieing.…read more

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Letter From Trenches
5/8 ounces of tea
4 ounces of jam or 4 ounces of dried fruit
Half gill of rum or 1 pint of porter
4 ounces of butter/margarine
2 ounces of dried vegetables
We don't get an ounce more, sometimes though they may give us less if things aren't going
to well.
Sometimes they give us tobacco, or chocolate but that is only on occasion.…read more


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