Create an interview between a reporter and a soldier or a fictional letter home from a Canadian Man or women on the front lines. Assume the person has served in the Battles of Ypres, the Somme, Vimy Ridge and Passchendale.
Post your interview or letter on this site under comments (be sure to include your initials at the end so I can give you credit). Your interview or letter should aim to inform the Canadian public at home about and include details about a minimum of 5 of the following:
· trench warfare
· life in the front lines
· the roles of technology in the war
· the quality of military leadership
· morale of Canadian soldiers
· the effectiveness of Canadian troops
· hospitals and medical treatment
· the roles of women in the war
92 comments:
Dearest Angeline,
Today is Sunday, and I haven’t heard gunshots in hours. This silence is almost eerie for my ears have grown used to the chaos that surrounds me on a daily basis. I’m currently stationed in a hospital in Yves having my wounds treated by a nurse, her high spirits is keeping my spirit up. Yesterday I faced the toughest battle imaginable. The Germans are becoming very precise with their gunfire, it’s getting to be quite unnerving. I’m very lucky to have survived, we were stationed in a shallow trench and poking my head slightly out of the trench would have surely been the end of me. Many lives were lost yesterday and today is spent silently mourning the lost soldiers. The use of explosions are becoming more and more common with every sunrise, grenades are becoming quite frightful. The leading SGT. on this expedition is quite the comedian but is serious when it is needed; very admirable. The conditions we face bravely on a daily basis are very unnerving, our base is starting to have major rat problems. The trenches are horrific, rats seem to like to feast on the decaying flesh of the lost soldiers. As stressful as this is I have this feeling that I’ll be home soon, as I slumber tonight I’ll dream of the tough days ahead but look forward to coming home and seeing you. I must go now, we are being called in for a strategy meeting.
Love Always, J.O.
Letter to Loved One.
Dear loved one,
The war for Somme River has been very brutal so far. All I ever see now is bombs exploding and gunfire at every angle. While in a trench my machine gun had stopped firing and I became a sitting duck until everything stopped. I was sure I was going to die. Both sides are suffering heavy losses for Somme River. I just want this war to end and everything come to peace once again. I am afraid that if this war ends and if I survive, I will be too shaken from all of this slaughter. I hope you are doing well.
Yours Faithfully,
C.H.
Dear my loving family,
I would love to tell you all that I am happy and that this war isn’t as terrible as it seems… but the truth is that it is worse than the media has described it. We are living in conditions that are no better than a ditch, except you can’t poke your head out of this ditch without getting shot at. It seems as if this war will never end. I have an extreme fear that I will die in these rat infested ditches, but the thought of you makes me keep fighting in hopes that I will return in the near future. Many of the men I trained with are now dead, and its definitely taking its toll on the soldiers out here. Losing a soldier is like losing a brother. Even if somebody is just injured in the battlefield, there is always a good chance that they are going to die in the “hospitals” that we have here. If you could even call them that, they are basically just less dangerous places with some bandages and painkillers. Not only do we have to live with the fear of being shot or hit by the explosion of a grenade, we also have to constantly keep in mind that we could be gassed. More weaponry would be nice but for now we have to make due with our trench guns. I don’t mean to worry you with all of this grueling information, I just want you to know what its like here. I hope to return soon, and if I don’t then I will always be in your hearts.
Love, I.E
Dear Kassi.
I’m on the front, everything is dead around me. Mass explosions of debris and death reign all around me; rats invest the dead and ravage the living. Bombs are constantly dropping from the invisible clouds of smoke, never a second of peace or quiet. Fog is rolling in…fog, or gas? Destroying all around me, wearing a gas mask saved my life but the shells being launched from their cannons disoriented my hearing and I’m wandering endlessly through the trenches in search of my friends. The commands given are just suicidal, the bayonet training mind-raped 90% of the first wave; the rest retreated or was wounded by other means of their devastating means of giving death. Most men didn’t make it to a hospital, almost none did, those who survived either went completely insane, blind, or just lost all faith in leadership; what leadership? I sent them all to die they shouldn’t have faith in the first place.
They sent us to our dooms on April 9, 1917, Vimy Ridge was our goal. My friends…gone. All the soldiers I’ve sent to their doom, I almost lost my mind of this oblivious event. The troops seem endless and are being sent to their doom, young and old are dying over and over, doesn’t matter, one machine gun nest can mow down and hack off every limb of all the soldiers. The machine gun, the embodiment of death itself; created for one purpose and that is to kill as much as possible. Combat tactics changed forever, no more rushing and planning, just simply set up a nest and defend. Strategies set up were completely foiled by the new technology presented.
Hospitals were only made to sustain you till death took hold. Invested with rats and disease they were no safe heaven; pestilence and illness spread rapidly through them. Little medical supplies and actual medical assistance were extremely rare, if not impossible to come by. Women would usually play the roles of nurses and tend to the wounded and soon to be deceased. Although little help they did happen to sustain and save some lives. All the soldiers were once driven to war by a sense of honor and pride; but now only found out that death and destruction was what they would find. Total annihilation.
Finally peace. The bombardment finally stopped for a minute; soon cheering and clapping. Reinforcements rolled in, by my hand I called several days ago; soon Vimy Ridge was ours. Another launch of gas bombs and other such means bombarded Vimy ridge; so close! All ran and scattered from the obstructed objective. The crowded trenches acted as a tomb of mass genocide. Most the troops retreated but I commanded mortar bombardment to clean out the enemy position; we felt so useless waiting for the gas to retreat into the sky and for the debris to finally settle from the choking air.
Love, J.T.F
Dear, Family
Saturday night, I was trying to sleep but all I could hear in the distances is gun fire, landmines going off the, the sound of distant screams. I finely get to sleep and I’m woken up by loud shells landing close by. Sunday, it’s an eerie morning the trees steaming like they been set on fire, poke my head outside the trenches to see carnage of decaying bodies scattered across a wide open field, I watch as the rats just feed on the dead bodies of my friends its horrific. It was faint morning September, 16 1916, are squad was told to investigate an abandon building for German soldiers, about five of us go in to check, next thing I hear gun fire coming from outside I look through a window to see my squad getting slaughtered by Germans. I watch as they barricade the door and pour gas into the building to finish off the rest of us, I quickly put on my gas mask and go around to see if anyone else survived… I found nothing but bodies of Canadian soldiers. As the Germans leave I make my way outside to get back to base as quickly as possible. These are just some of the things I’ve been through. I have to go know but I will return one day soon.
Love always, C.H
Dear Wife
Im on the front lines of oblivion it seemed like, and every direction you would look would either be some guy puking his guts out from the gas or a man with limbs blasted off from the explosions. My left arm had gone dead by this time it looking like a piece of scrap meat you would feed the dogs it mutilated from bullets. As you struggle for the last bit of gleam of hope it feels as if it is useless it was if you were sent to the slaughter house and there was no way out but to pray and hope they don’t kill you before you kill them. The means of warfare has changed drastically the technology is beyond what your mind could think of gas that gets into your system and dissolves away human inners making you a human shell, guns that a single man could slaughter 50-100s of men in his way. The trench life was terrible it was very crowded and as you were in the trench you were hoping not to be bombed or get your head blown off , as it was scarce for survival you must be persistent as people and friends are dying around you feel as if your world is falling apart. As I seen my best friend jumped on top of the grenade beside me to save me I was in shock. It was if everything had slowed down and I was all alone, as he had died to save my life death took his. Troops and troops came It was endless and I thought it was never going to end it seemed like everyone was just going to die. Through the hours of intense battling you become wounded and exhausted. I thought that this was going to be my resting place as all hope started to disappear but as deaths grasp was enveloping me I blacked out……
I woke to notice I was in a hospital first noticing that my left arm was missing I went into shock. The hospitals were just to sustain you so you didn’t die the pain I endured in that hospital will not be forgotten. The women played their roles as nurses and they tried to save lives but it was little hope as the place was infested with many rats disease and other various problems. There was not a lot of medicine to go around which was not good for the people that actually could make it to the hospital there were so little supplies I did get much to treat my pain for the lost limb but my injuries were nothing compared to some so I would not complain because I was way better off then some. As I laid in the bed I felt as if I had not done enough for the war like I needed to go back and fight on the front lines more but in my condition I had no choice I had to stay in this hospital. The leadership during the war was good the commanders made good calls when they needed to and they lead us to battle with great knowledge and skills which helped a ton. There precise action made it so we were able to conquer vimy ridge and claim it as ours in April 9 , 1917 I was happy that our troops did so much great work.
Sincerely J.P.
Dear Dad and Mother—
I wish I could be back home with the comfort of friends and family around me, there is not much comfort here. There is only cold, dirt trenches in which we live in, with the sound of shells flying overhead and striking the ground nearby. Many of my fellow soldiers have died, and the ones that are left look just as displeased as I am. The living conditions here are not well, the trenches we live in are infested with rats and disease. We can’t even stick our heads out to look around without a bullet being fired at our heads. This trench is our temporary home until we die, or win this stupid war. Just the other day we got hit by a grenade, a couple men were wounded while 2 died. The Germans like to use poison gas, we didn’t know what to expect when we saw the gas but after I saw men choke and die from the raw chemical of the gas I knew I wanted nothing to do with it. It seems like this war will never end… and I don’t know if I can take much more of this violence. I hope to come home soon to be with all my family and friends. I miss you all very much.
C.G Love, Joe Iamawesome
My dearest mother and father,
Today I am writing you about the horrible experiences that have occurred during my time in the Ypres war. It has been quite a horrific battle against the Germans, I don’t know how much more I can take. My lungs are burning from the chlorine intake, I was lucky to make it out alive. All we have to rely on is our rifles, our bayonets, and bombs. We were asked to attempt to seal off the gap and hold the line which by then was coming under attack, not only from the gas and artillery, but by the assaults of German infantry. These trenches seem to be getting smaller and smaller, I feel like I’m going crazy, am I? The shaking of the ground, and sound of the blowing rifles and bombs, the screams of soldiers, and the persistence of the war has taken a huge impact on me. It’s hard enough trying to fight the Germans, but with the gas, our Ross rifles not working, and our boots falling apart, I don’t see a point in trying anymore. I just want out, please help me out of here!
Sincerely your son, Private Ryan.
Dakota
To my beloved ones,
We just arrived at Somme and tomorrow we start are attack on the German forces, so I will need to hurry this up. From what I can tell me team mates are very excited to be here, but I on the other hand am not. I am afraid of what is to come with the pending battle, and what I am afraid of is not very happy and romantic like they told us war would be. I have seen the machine gun and its raw god like power. It has killed many of my dear friends and has harmed countless others that were able to hide from its blood thirsty bullets. Even if you are not killed…you might as well be because the hospitals are not any better. I have seen them, filled with dying men….and others that lost arms and leg. Why be alive if you lost a leg or arm, your freedom is now constricted. Medicine also does not take away the pain of you losing parts of your life.
When we are called out to fight tomorrow, when they tell us to climb out of the trenches, I will try to live but I feel like death is waiting for us. To collect the bodies and take them and bring them to hell. Hell not heaven, I have killed too many to still go to heaven. There will be bodies and there will be death, there is always bodies and death. Some will die from the bullets and fragments of metal flying in the air. Others will die from the horrible gas; I called it smoke from Grim’s cigar. Some say it feels like your lungs are being burned by a strong fire. This is where my letters ends. For now I will await my destiny in this dark muddy dug out. They say it is cold, but I feel nothing now….just the rats trying to nibble at my fingers
Love always, D.D
Dear Dad,
I hope you are keeping well. We are resting at our camp right now but we won’t be here for much longer. It’s very quiet here but I can’t get the sounds of rifles and gunshots out of my head. The day before yesterday we went over the boundary of France into the firing lines. The trenches were rough and it rained for two days straight. We were about seventy five yards away from the Germans so we needed to pay extra attention to our surroundings. They tried to drive us out of the trenches but didn’t succeed; luckily they didn’t use their stink shells which are a bunch of toxic fumes.
One of the Germans was situated on high ground and it was a close call when he got ahead of me. My rifle broke from the shot but I was fortunate enough not to be injured. Later that day they sent these huge trench mortar bombs with about forty to sixty pounds of high explosives. My close friend was buried in the explosion and the last thing I remember was my ears ringing and heart beat increasing with adrenaline.
Everything is better now; the medical treatment here is incredible. It really is a privilege to be fighting for my country alongside all the other brave soldiers. We have stopped the Germans from getting any closer through our lines; I could hear the groans and cries of their wounded men. Although we have had many casualties, I am keeping as aware as possible.
Your loving son,
R.F
great letters SS11 students! I like the realism and the sense that you've empathized with the soldiers. Do any of you have a relative that fought in the "Great War?" I've got some SS11 classes and maybe we'll stop by your blog to leave some letters, too. We start talking about WWI on Monday.
Mr. T @ DPTodd.
A Poem
You don't know the world of war
You don't see;
There is no dignity
No dignity in this,
Death in Ypres
The Canadians!
Fighting as one, distinguishing ourselves
You think our leaders provide for us rightly
But upon our faces gas masks do not rest
You don't see our broken, useless boots
You don't know
We have run away from the front lines
We've seen death coming
Couldn't face it
Ran for our lives!
Oh,
And you don't want us without glory
You think we battle
Strong and fierce
No,
We pace the trench that has us trapped
You think the cries of death are worth it
No, they haunt us
In our sleep
When we wake
When we ourselves, die
You think the horrors are all a story
But the cloud of gas that breezes deadly
Is real
Is really chasing us for our last breath
We drop with our chests burning in agony
Slow poison suffocating us all
Slow poison destroying our world
The world
Slow poison
of War
S.B
Dear Mom and Dad,
Day 98 of my adventure- today was the toughest battle I’ve fought yet so far. The Germans really clashed weapons with ours. It was an upsetting battle in the end for both sides. I am still located in a deep trench in Belgian City, Ypres. I live upon millions of rats that scurry along all day and night. Everywhere I walk I stumble across the dead laying soldiers. My mind races with the fires of rifles and the ground rumbling grenades. I’ve been suffering a sore throat from a poisonous gas outbreak three weeks ago; I hope to go into treatment soon. I don’t know how much longer I can withstand this place, all I know is that I’m sick and tired of this chaos. It rained for a whole two days here, and everything is either soaked or has become mud. I hope you guys are doing much better than I am, I can’t wait to see you guys again, talk to you soon.
Love Always, L.V
April, 25, 1915
Dear Mother and Father,
The war is a very frightening place to be. I feel as if the explosions and gun shots are not real. Many soilders are wounded, killed, and captured. As we huddle in the trench we worry where the next explosion will be, or how many more will have to die. I will never get used to the smell of rotting bodies in the shallow graves along the trench. Or the countless rats that scurry through the mucky trench. Im nervous, Im scared, Im worried. There are new technology in this battle, such as machine guns or airplanes. Bombs smashing into the earth from above, nothing scarier. In front of our trench we have placed barb wire so our enemies get trapped and we can fire away with our machine guns until they fall down dead. I am not pleased with myself after all that I've done, but I do it for us, and for France. Lucky for me I haven't had to visit the hospital, although many others have. Cramped up in tiny beds with broken bodies, I hope that I will not have to go there. I miss you both very much. Be proud of our Canadian Troops, forced to fight in the war. Some have given their lives to help win this battle. Us Canadian Troops were needed to fight and stand up with France. With all my love forever and always,
K.M.
Dear Daniel,
Remember when we were kids and fantasize that we were soldiers pretending to fight for our country in the forest. How we thought it would be so cool to go to war. Well the truth is, it’s not making friends here is nice but the go out on the front lines with them fighting for your life telling yourself to keep going, don’t fall down, then hearing them cry for help and see them die right in front of you not being able to reach from them to pull them to safety. It is the worst feeling I have ever felt. Seeing his empty, cold, died eyes staring start at me, every time I close my eyes I see his, I haven’t slept in six days. On the first day of being here I was passed a gun it was cold, all I could feeling was depression and death. I always thought that when I would get my first gun I would be happy and proud. For days I was stressing myself wondering how I would be able to actually kill someone to take a life. What that person’s life was like did he have a family, kids and was it all worth it.
It has been four months since if have seen your faces. I know this is hard to hear this, but the image of them in my mind is the only thing that keeps me smiling. I miss moms famous pumpkin pie some day’s when I’m sitting in the trenches I can just smell a hit of the sweet aroma but then the stench of decaying corpses over powers. I wish I could lie right now and tell you that were I am are fun and exciting and just like what we talked about with our friends but then I would be just fooling myself and you. My ears are constantly ringing from the guns being fired only five feet away or when bombs crash to the ground disintegrating anything on impact. How everyone is always getting sick from the food there are few and few men everyday from sudden death the main course is the bomb falling and barring men hiding in nearby trench or the infestation from the rats, that the men fear. I was walking throw the trenches one day and I saw a man that witness the death of his brother, I tried to make him feel better but he was broken. All I could think about was how happy I was that you’re safe at home and not having to be in this dirt chamber.
A few weeks ago a bomb hit the trench I was staying in, sending me to the hospital in miner condition with first degree burns on the right side of my body. I wish I could tell you more about it but it just happened so fast, all I remember everybody was running trying to get out. Pushing me out of the way making it harder and harder for me to escape, hence the burns, but thanks to the doctors I healed well and I am back on my feet, there was one nurse that was stunning that caught my eye she was kind and sweet she write many of my letters to you. She made me promise to take her out dancing after the war and I have been writing her letters ever since, her names Elena, she’s from London, England. She’s and artists and just got out of college. I can’t wait for you to meet her.
Well it’s time for my rounds I’ll write you soon, I want to hear all about college, have you found yourself a girl yet. Or are you to busy with football.
Tell mom and dad I love them and miss them.
Love you bro,
Sincerely,
C.P.
WWI: The Battle of Cambrai, the British Empire, Newfoundland advance against the German Empire.
It exceeds the character limit, so please follow the link below.
From the Front: Socials 11
Dear Mama and Papa;
Today, I hope, was the worst of what I will see witness while helping these poor men. Many men dripped in each others blood came hollering into our hospital; every single one of them in pain. Some mutilated to an unrecognizable state, some blinded by shell shatters. At first I would get sick at every bleeding wound, or severed limbs, but now I barely flinch at the sounds of their painful groans. Sometimes the wounds are easily treatable, other times there is nothing we can do. On many occasions, men have even arrived too late. Something changes in their eyes. Once loving and cheerful have now become cold and lifeless. Even worse than many wounds is the after affect the shooting has on some people. They shake constantly and are always in fear. They have become useless; yet still carry on for the fear of losing. These are sad days, the soldiers are coming in more and more, and while even more lay in the trenches to be left till the sweet present of death takes them. They are happier to die, than to be left alive in warfare.
Always your daughter,
Patricia
Dear Mama and Papa;
Today, I hope, was the worst of what I will see witness while helping these poor men. Many men dripped in each others blood came hollering into our hospital; every single one of them in pain. Some mutilated to an unrecognizable state, some blinded by shell shatters. At first I would get sick at every bleeding wound, or severed limbs, but now I barely flinch at the sounds of their painful groans. Sometimes the wounds are easily treatable, other times there is nothing we can do. On many occasions, men have even arrived too late. Something changes in their eyes. Once loving and cheerful have now become cold and lifeless. Even worse than many wounds is the after affect the shooting has on some people. They shake constantly and are always in fear. They have become useless; yet still carry on for the fear of losing. These are sad days, the soldiers are coming in more and more, and while even more lay in the trenches to be left till the sweet present of death takes them. They are happier to die, than to be left alive in warfare.
Always your daughter,
Patricia
(forgot to include
BrookP.Blk:B)
Peter Wolfe
Age: 21
Medical officer
Dear Parents and Suzanna,
Today, just like any other day I worked in the trenches, carrying bodies and the wounded back to the abandoned cellar. It is not far off the fields but it was safe for now. People in the trenches are filled with wounds I’ve lost track of how many times I go back and forth. I now have others helping me, women, they are very helpful in bandaging wounded soldiers and keeping them fed. We need more people like that here. The more weapons the Germans make and the more advanced they get the more people are dying in the front lines. Everyday more men are dying, leaders are sending unprepared boys out there instead of skilled men, but the soldiers stay strong they work hard and still keep smiles on their faces. I feel I am doing a good job in helping the wounded, some I have no choice but to send back still injured or in shell shock. It’s getting easier to sleep, I am use to the shells exploding in air and the loud noises now, I am just grateful I have not gotten shells in my eyes, To many men fall blind or dead from that. I hope the war will be finished soon, I don’t know how much longer I can watch the young die also hope they don’t censor this letter too much, I want you to know what this is like. I will send more letters when I get back from the trenches, until then I will try and keep safe. I love you all.
Peter.
To my family,
It's frightening here. The colorful scene that has convinced most of us to join is greatly exaggerated. The sight, the smell, almost unbearable. Thousands gone; dead. Will I be next? I worry I may never see you again. I dread for tomorrow, but I live for the thought of being with you all again. I cringe at the thought of being blasted at more. The sound alone is enough to get to you. Many of my friends have been shipped off to small hospitals around the area and I now feel more alone each day. Some have come back, but I know many more won't. I miss home; the thought of safety to be there with you all. The trenches are packed, but not just by soldiers. Insects and animals like rats have made new homes here. The nibble at the injured and dead like they are candy. My heart sinks for the ones that have died already, but I do hope greatly not to become one. I have never visited the small hospitals and I hope I won't be having to. I will try my hardest to come home and I will make this short. I hope to hear from you soon. As it stands now, I am still unaware of my return, but I don't know how much more I can stand. Maybe it will be soon; if we are lucky. I miss you and love you all.
Xoxo
- Nicole B. blk. B
Dear Parents,
I took this time to write to you guys, to tell you how I’m doing. Today was a bad morning, I got only 3 hours of sleep due to the heavy artillery bombing from the Germans. The trench I’m in is full of muddy water, with rats running around. We have almost no food or water and everybody is starving. Most of the soldiers are badly wounded and are suffering from shell shock. I was excited to come here to this, what called battlefront, hoping to have an easy time and meet some people. Everyone thought that it was going to be a fast war, because the British Empire is more superior than any other. Instead we got stuck in trenches, rotting our feet off from the nasty and infected water. The rubbish weapons was another thing, we barely had enough ammo to support ourselves and some of is when it got wet wouldn’t work, the guns would jam and that will get you killed. I can go on for days telling you about this horrible war, but for now goodbye.
Sincerely, Bob.
Dear Parents,
I took this time to write to you guys, to tell you how I’m doing. Today was a bad morning, I got only 3 hours of sleep due to the heavy artillery bombing from the Germans. The trench I’m in is full of muddy water, with rats running around. We have almost no food or water and everybody is starving. Most of the soldiers are badly wounded and are suffering from shell shock. I was excited to come here to this, what called battlefront, hoping to have an easy time and meet some people. Everyone thought that it was going to be a fast war, because the British Empire is more superior than any other. Instead we got stuck in trenches, rotting our feet off from the nasty and infected water. The rubbish weapons was another thing, we barely had enough ammo to support ourselves and some of is when it got wet wouldn’t work, the guns would jam and that will get you killed. I can go on for days telling you about this horrible war, but for now goodbye.
Sincerely, Bob.
Dear family
The trenches we have been living in for a while are very crowded and dramatic, We got attacked the other day many were wounded, there is minimal medical treatment so it is hard to help the wounded. Women’s role is to help the wounded and to give them care, With the new technology they have posionous gases which we had thrown at the trench the other day, it is hard to be in the front lines as we are the ones that usually have our lives taken. The food we get here Is very minimal and its hard to remain healthy with the conditions we are in, the trench is long and narrow, theres not much room and you constantly hear gunfire, some of us are doing okay, but there are many that are shell shocked, full of anxiety
Brandon W, Block B
Canadian Infantry
Private Charles Fredrick Carswell
Red Deer, Alberta
Dear Parents,
I took this time to write you a letter telling you about the war. The war is a terrible place to be, the trenches are filled with water and there are rats running all over the place. Sometimes your water will get infected and you will be forced to drink it because your throat will get dry and no body will share their water with you. It can be very bloody and in the trenches cause the Germans will run up and try to shoot you before you can shoot them, a German shot one of my friends that I made during my training. Well I have to go now because we are getting ready to move out and move even farther up.
From your loving son Charles Carswell
Dear Mother,
I apologize for not writing as often as I have been, for I have been going through the toughest of times. We have been dwelling in our trenches, after a long time of continuous gunfire and gases. We are all tired, as well as the enemy. The trenches are getting worse, and many of our men are sick and weak. Fritz has been parading, dropping bombs that are landing not far from our trenches. The past couple days have been extremely rough. The Germans have been throwing poisonous gases, and I’m glad I have been so fortunate to survive. I’m sure you will be happy that as of now I am doing well. But it is sad to see these men fall. Lots of us say we are used to the sounds of war, but we aren’t. These sounds will always be disturbing.
The weather has been miserable, cold and raining for about a week. I would love for the sunshine to dry our clothes and blankets from water and mud. I have met a good guy, named Rob. Good company, even in the dreariest hours of the day. He often talks about his wife, who sends him booze once in a while. He was nice enough to share it with me, so I shared the chocolate you had sent. Those are the best of times we have here, but in the end we are fighting and seeing each other die.
I will write again soon, send love to the family,
Your Dearest Son, Liam.
Lauren D. Block B Dptodd
Dear Mother,
I apologize for not writing as often as I have been, for I have been going through the toughest of times. We have been dwelling in our trenches, after a long time of continuous gunfire and gases. We are all tired, as well as the enemy. The trenches are getting worse, and many of our men are sick and weak. Fritz has been parading, dropping bombs that are landing not far from our trenches. The past couple days have been extremely rough. The Germans have been throwing poisonous gases, and I’m glad I have been so fortunate to survive. I’m sure you will be happy that as of now I am doing well. But it is sad to see these men fall. Lots of us say we are used to the sounds of war, but we aren’t. These sounds will always be disturbing.
The weather has been miserable, cold and raining for about a week. I would love for the sunshine to dry our clothes and blankets from water and mud. I have met a good guy, named Rob. Good company, even in the dreariest hours of the day. He often talks about his wife, who sends him booze once in a while. He was nice enough to share it with me, so I shared the chocolate you had sent. Those are the best of times we have here, but in the end we are fighting and seeing each other die.
I will write again soon, send love to the family,
Your Dearest Son, Liam.
Lauren. D. Block B dptodd
Dear family and friends
I’m at the end of my rope. Just waiting to die on this battlefield. I wake up every morning in this dugout with many other men, shoulder to shoulder sleeping with mud on the floors. Rats invested with dead people rotting. I’m cold every morning but I’m starting to get used to it. Gunshots go off all night with explosions shaking the ground while dust and dirt fall off the roofs of out dug out. Wearing the same clothes everyday while not being able to shower. I wake up very tired after only 5 hours of sleep if I’m lucky. In the morning we eat biscuits and hot tea. All day during battles I’m always hungry. When I get a chance I eat candies that I packed in my bag. We wake up every morning really early so we can be ready in our trenches for war. Our trenches are full of men that have died in battle. Just laying they’re waiting to get eaten by rats. Rotting making the air smell bad. I wear a gas mask for when they gas bomb us but still can smell dead men. Waiting patiently in the trenches with gun pointing towards the enemies. The smell is really bad but I’m use to it. As the enemies run toward your men u wait till they get close as u get a command to fire. I try to get the men before they reach the trench but never can I get all the men. The enemies jump in out trenches and shoot and stab whoever is in their way. Yesterday I got stabbed in the arm from a man that got into the trench. I was pulled into the medics but all they could do was bandage my wound and send me back out. The medics could only pay most attention to the men that were on the borderline of being dead. Also they only had enough medication for the men that were about to die. I met a man that had lots of things in common with me. We talk every night before we go to bed. Until 3 days ago there was a man running at me to stab me and he jumped in front of me and took the stabbing. He was a good man and I have lots of respect for him. I’ve been really lucky because there have been a lot of men dying right beside me. Hospitals were only there to sustain u till death. We have rifles that sometimes not work and sometimes backfire. We also have a couple machine guns that a few men use to take down Meany men as they run towards our men. There aren’t enough bullets to take down all the soldiers but enough to take effect. My life is on the front lines as I fight thing battle for my country. I hope I make it out alive so I can come home forever. But if I don’t return home I would like to let u no I love u all.
Love, Jon R Block B
Chantelle D
Block B
My Dearest Family,
War⎯ it is Hell! My only goal is surviving through each day. I do not want to be here anymore. Death is everywhere. It won’t be long before Death engulfs me, I feel surrounded. I looked around only to see mud, dead bodies, smoke and more dead bodies. The sight of seeing swarms of rats feeding on the rotten, decaying bodies makes me want to be sick. The smell is more appalling. Everything about this place is horrendous! The trenches are in the worst conditions from the weather, the diseases, the dead bodies, and the rats. Each day I fear for my life as we are getting shot at. Each day is unknown, we never know what to expect. Yesterday, my good friend was shot. It is devastating. They took him to the medical station; I call it that because it is nowhere close to being a hospital. The nurses did everything they could, but unfortunately he did not make it. The nurses are helpful with their nice smiles and encouraging words, but I can sense they are just keeping it together for our sake. Their high spirits gives us hope, when our hope is fading fast. Many lives have been lost on both sides. All I keep thinking is when will it be over? How many more people need to die before this war ends? I really appreciated the package you sent me. I got it yesterday. The desserts, letters, and pictures remind me of home, of where I want to be right now. You gave me a little more hope than I had yesterday. I wish I could be home safe with you, my family. Please know that I am trying my best to stay the safest I can here. I miss every one of you!
Sincerely,
John Doe
Dear Mother and Father,
These past few months have been hard without you guys, but I’m doing fine. I miss you guys so much and I’m really lonely. I think about you all of the time. I miss your baking and chocolate chip cookies. The last thing I ate that you made was the fruitcake you sent me recently. The trenches we stay in are full of dead bodies and diseases. They are very cold. Some people got lice and it is really damp. We just stay in them with rifles and machine guns killing others when they run over to us. We have gas masks for whenever they use mustard gas or anything else on us. There are some women here. They are nurses or ambulance drivers.
Love Bob.
Mom and Dad,
I miss you terribly, these have been hard times and I’m very lonely. You’ll be happy to hear that at the moment I have not been injured. I long for my home and warm bed; these trenches are no place for a person to live. They are cold and damp and when it rains they flood completely. Our living conditions have caused many to get sick and some die. I have been lucky.
There are women here too, they work as nurses and drive ambulances on the front lines. Also they help to entertain the soldiers.
There are rumors that the war will be over in only a couple months, but I will not believe it until it happens.
Love Bob
Brianna H Block B
Dear Loved One,
I apologize for how long it has taken me to finally find time to write back to your previous letters. We have been in battle with the Germans, along the Somme. I have never lived through another experience like this in my life. There is no solid ground, only wide, thick oceans of mud, which made the battle itself even more difficult. As I’m sure you’ve read in the newspapers, we lost many men during this battle. People around me were being hit constantly and as inhumane as it sounds there is no time to stop and help or even comfort the injured or dying; you must put on a brave face and stay focused to keep yourself alive. This was very different from the battle of Ypres, where there was an atmosphere similar to excitement. It was strange at first, fighting alongside men I barely knew but it didn’t take long for us to become much more comfortable with each other. This is an advantage in battle, but when you grow attached to a person it becomes a greater challenge to move past deaths of fellow soldiers. Some men are able to move past it, and will try with great effort to fabricate a smile in those who have a more difficult time accepting the deaths. I am blessed with good fortune, because I haven’t sustained any serious injuries. I had to take a friend of mine to the hospital because he was standing too close when a bomb hit, and he lost his foot. It is upsetting to see how many men there are at the hospitals, I couldn’t imagine myself as one of the nurses, who will have memories of dying soldiers etched in their minds permanently. These women are as much a part of the war as myself. War in the trenches is awful, especially for someone like myself who doesn’t like tight spaces. I constantly long to breath fresh, clean air and to not have to worry about being blown to pieces. I hope everyone home is doing well, and I look forward to hearing from you.
John Doe
Danica B. ss11 B
Dear Mom and Dad,
My recovery has been coming along quite well. Unfortunately, others are not as lucky. Many men come through this hospital everyday with life threatening wounds, many die within a few hours of being admitted. The weather has gotten much better since I last wrote, it sounds like it is boosting the morale of the soldiers at the front line. The morale was getting low. It seems the victory at Vimy Ridge is forgotten.
I do not miss being on the front lines, the constant whizzing of shells overhead and the explosions that shake the whole dugout. In the days before I was hit, they cut half our rations. We were down to one blanket and hardly any food. Those days were the worst. There was constant rain freezing us to the bone and making a mess of the trenches. The trench warfare was brutal. Men would climb over the top to gain some ground and be shot down within a few meters. The men who were wounded would drown in the mud. When we could get past the artillery fire, the German’s machine guns would plow down our men as soon as they were in range. Our military tactics seemed useless. Thousands were lost trying to get close to the German line.
My quick recovery might send me back to the front in a few days. I miss you dearly and I hope to see you soon.
Love always,
D.B.
Dear Mother and Father,
I have been discharged from the hospital for about a week since last time I wrote you, the nurse told me I had a case of acute influenza and should be recovering quite quickly. There sure wasn’t very much staff working in the hospital but if there were people they were all women. They drive ambulances and tend to the sick, wounded and shell shocked, which is very frightening.
I am doing my best to get through this thing safely, and am becoming quite an expert in dodging the shells that Fritz aims at us in the morning and evenings. From a high point near here I can see the two lines of trenches about 250 yards apart but at some places closer, and, unless you have eyes of a hawk, you won't detect a sign of the enemy. Some nights I have seen our soldiers all along his front line, smashing it to bits, yet he still returns. Whether he is running low on ammunition or is saving for the big spring attack, it is hard to say.
The thaw has set in and the trenches are in a very messy state, mud up to our waists in the front line of trenches. We had to stand to in it for three hours. All the men were glad when 5 o'clock came, to go over the top to the Germans. When we were crossing ‘No Man's Land’ shells and bullets were dropping out of the sky like rain.
There has been use of poison gas quite frequently lately. In the early days of the war it was always “cloud gas” but now the Huns have started using a new thing that they call “Mustard Gas”, this is a heavy liquid, which evaporates slowly and may lie on the ground or on clothes a long time, the devilish part of it is that it has only a faint smell, that of course could be hard to recognize, and it does not develop its deadly work for some time after it has stricken a man, the only positive part of this, that while the Germans started this gas business, it is starting to be used on our side by very few but they suffer worse.
Well my dear parents our plans go into effect sometime this April, and I probably wont have time to write then so I will send you a few more letters until that time. I will be safe and well so don’t worry too much. Goodbye for now and all my love.
Your son,
Charlie.
Hayley M. Blk B.
My Dearest Love
It has been two weeks since i last sent you a letter. Your brother John and I are tired from the ship ride over, but John still has the same smug grin on his face that he had back home. I am sorry I left in order to record the war, but its something that needs to be seen back home. In order to be as useful as we can. I have not slept in days since we got to the dugout. War is a horrible thing that I do not wish upon anyone. Many soldiers seem to be losing hope after seeing so much death. Our eyes have gone rotten looking at the bodies of others and our ears have become dull from the continuous loud explosions. But I have not lost hope knowing that you are back home waiting for me. Teach the children in your class that war isn't a grand mighty battle where people will be given honour and respect but that peace should always be your first option. The children have a right to know something this important. I have tapped many scenes of war and have experienced so much though I am not a soldier I feel like one. Just the other day while I was holding my camera shells came firing over my head and a soldier shoved a gun into my hands. It was a frightening experience but I only came out with a few scraps and bruises. I know I shouldn't be joking around but this is just my way of showing you I'm fine. so please don't worry about me.
From Your dearest L.W
Tiffani Sprague
March14 2012
Letter from the front
My dearest Edith,
I want to tell you the “great war” is everything they were saying it was before I left, but it’s not. I know some of this stuff I am going to tell you, you may not want to hear, but I promised you the truth. From the beginning you didn’t believe in “the great war” now I don’t either.
Living in the front with terrible living, with always being in mud and rats, yes rats. The fear the is constantly over me is hard to explain, the fear with sounds of bombs and men dying. To see men who have become your brothers, your family die in front of you is something I will never forget. Then to have the smell of the men around you with the mud and rats is unbearable. The food is scarce and far in between so I’m always hungry and thirsty. So Edith I thank you for the tobacco and the new socks. I haven’t had dry socks since I got here.
The technology is incredible and freighting all the same, airplanes flying overhead, and machine guns that you aren’t reloading after one shoot. But all this means is the damage is all the more great; I’ve seen men go to hospitals but have to come right back out to fight if possible. We lose a lot of men, but we get a little more every day. We Canadians are fighters.
Please let my mother know I love her and that I hope to be home soon. I love you Edith, I will see you soon someday.
Love always.
Henry
France, October 19th, 1917
To my best friend Scotland Cullen III,
I’m writing back in response to your letter, I have been staying in a hospital about 60 miles from Passchendaele where I was gunned down only 5 feet away from you, I tried to write you earlier but they had me drugged up on god knows what. This place is awful, it smells awful and the food is worse then what we ate when we were at battle together. That being said, you and your fellow mates are the ones who are doing all the work and are the ones who should be given more. This place is like a jail, but in comparison to the muddy, wet and brutal smelling battlefields of Passchendaele, it is heaven.
At least it is my left arm that got blown away from that Germans enfield or else I would be making my nurse, Edith Anderson, a wonderful nurse of first nations descent, she is nothing like what the government put them out to be, she’s the nicest woman I have ever met. I wish I could come back to battle as crazy as that sounds, I cant get the sounds of machine guns firing out of my head, or the sounds of explosions going off everywhere. I have trouble sleeping at night, sometimes I just wakeup screaming, I never remember my dreams but I know they were about the war, the death, the dirt and that awful smell. I would rather die a soldier and fighting for my country than go insane in this hospital bed. But at the end of the day, I cant do anything now, I hope you get to taste victory one more time just like we did in Vimy Ridge and hope that after that you go back to Canada and reunite with your family, I know I should do the same but I don’t want my 9 year old son to see me like this. That being said I know ill be deported back home as soon as I can take care of myself.
It was nice to hear from you and I will keep writing you, when I get home I was thinking of sending you a little care package because I know your wife always sent the wrong cigars and never sent you chewing tobacco because she thinks its gross. It may be a while so I guess I should just ask Edith if she could do me a little favor, it wont hurt to ask right? Ha ha, write back soon my friend. Keep on givin’er.
Yours truly, Kristopher Joyce.
France, October 2, 1917
Dear Kristopher Joyce II,
It’s the end of a long day; our fleet has hunkered down after another atrocious battle through the mud. The feeling of mud grinding underneath my nails is still here from day one. My knees have been getting weak from trying to throw my legs threw the mud to get closer to enemy lines. The mud of this war is like nothing else, watching our fellow soldiers, our brothers, being left behind in the mud is becoming harder and harder to watch as the fight goes on. I can’t tell if the screaming I’m hearing in my head is from the flying artillery shells or from the dying soldiers on the battlefield. The thumping of explosions, horses and bodies dropping is ground shaking. We are stepping closer to victory and it’s hard to do without you by my side. The victory won’t be the same as it was in Vimy when we looked at each other and knew we had concord the ridge. We are lacking leadership now that you’re gone. The weak-minded are struggling and the strong-minded are battling to keep everyone sane. At the end of the day the others and me try motivate each other to reach the end of this, but this is getting more difficult each day. The sloppy food barely gives any of us energy to get through the day. We are running low on cigarettes and many of them are getting ruined from the wet of the trenches. It always gave me a chuckle how you guarded your cigarettes with your life. This will be over soon and we can be together to smoke that last cigarette of victory.
I shall be heading now to get some rest, hope to here you soon. Write me some lines if you’re capable.
Yours truly, Scotland Cullen III
Dear Mother and Father,
I received your letters yesterday and it’s been very comforting to hear what’s been going on back home. I wish for nothing more than for this war to end so we can all return back home. It’s been nearly a week since leaving Belgium. I am currently staying in Britain resting and replenishing supplies. It feels very strange to be changing my clothes for the first time in weeks. I never noticed how thick the mud was caked on until I took them off. It is very muddy here and when it rains, huge craters are scattered across the fields. I’ve gotten used to the trenches though. The other men in my battalion are like brothers to me and we have a good time while not under fire. Our Captain never lets our spirit break. He is very good at his job and our battalion has few losses. We now know this war is not a picnic but if we take everything as positive as we can, I know we’ll be fine. At our last battle, we were enjoying a game of cards when the enemy began firing. Many men were lost due to the machine guns on both sides. I cannot complain for we give them just as much or even more as they give us. In one trench on the enemy line I was literally walking on dead Germans. You can’t possibly begin to imagine the smell. I cannot go too into detail now in fear my letter will be destroyed but I will tell you all about it when I get home. I will tell you I am no longer worried about the gas the Fritz are using. We received our gas masks yesterday so we can continue to battle bravely once again. The battles are long and treacherous and every one is as devastating as the last. We have also received new guns that are much larger and efficient than the last. The enemy has become better shooters and it is becoming more challenging to take them on in battle. Along with the new guns, new tactics have been put in place and they are making the Canadian troops a force to be reckoned with. I’m afraid that is all I can say for now. I hope you are all well and to be seeing you soon.
Your loving son.
Alison W. Block A
Dear Mother and Father,
I received your letters yesterday and it’s been very comforting to hear what’s been going on back home. I wish for nothing more than for this war to end so we can all return back home. It’s been nearly a week since leaving Belgium. I am currently staying in Britain resting and replenishing supplies. It feels very strange to be changing my clothes for the first time in weeks. I never noticed how thick the mud was caked on until I took them off. It is very muddy here and when it rains, huge craters are scattered across the fields. I’ve gotten used to the trenches though. The other men in my battalion are like brothers to me and we have a good time while not under fire. Our Captain never lets our spirit break. He is very good at his job and our battalion has few losses. We now know this war is not a picnic but if we take everything as positive as we can, I know we’ll be fine. At our last battle, we were enjoying a game of cards when the enemy began firing. Many men were lost due to the machine guns on both sides. I cannot complain for we give them just as much or even more as they give us. In one trench on the enemy line I was literally walking on dead Germans. You can’t possibly begin to imagine the smell. I cannot go too into detail now in fear my letter will be destroyed but I will tell you all about it when I get home. I will tell you I am no longer worried about the gas the Fritz are using. We received our gas masks yesterday so we can continue to battle bravely once again. The battles are long and treacherous and every one is as devastating as the last. We have also received new guns that are much larger and efficient than the last. The enemy has become better shooters and it is becoming more challenging to take them on in battle. Along with the new guns, new tactics have been put in place and they are making the Canadian troops a force to be reckoned with. I’m afraid that is all I can say for now. I hope you are all well and to be seeing you soon.
Your loving son.
Alison W. Block A
Dorion Van Caeseele
March 14, 2012
SS 11, Thielmann, A
Dear Mom and Dad,
I wouldn’t say my life at war isn’t very glamorous or comforting. There are nights I can’t sleep because I am too worried something is going to happen. It is almost summer, and if you look past the barbwire, trenches, and mud it is actually quite beautiful here. We have had a few days of rest and we are enjoying the great weather France has to offer this time of year. Surviving some of the biggest battles of the war so far has boosted my confidence, but every time I go into battle I still worry that it might be me this time. I have watched and seen so many people die that I feel sorry for their families back home. The thing I hate the most is the trenches, and frankly I spend most of my time in them. They are muddy, smell awful, we go days without food and little water, and there are other things I care not to mention. My life on the front lines has a lot of responsibility. The Germans can’t get any closer to Paris, or I don’t even want to know what will happen. There are lots of new technologies and inventions that I have seen very little of at home. There are hundreds of airplanes in the skies and they sometimes drop bombs or one crashes to the ground.
On a more positive note, about a week ago we successfully took Vimy Ridge from the Germans. It was a very organized attack and took lots of practice and rehearsing. It was the first time in the war that all four of the Canadian divisions fought together. It was a proud moment when we knew we had defeated the Germans. This wouldn’t have been possible if it wasn’t for our General Currie. His offensive strategy was very different than the other leaders in other battles. Before it was just run and attack the enemy and hope you don’t get shot. This time we lost very little men compared to other battles and actually knew exactly what to do. I am very proud and honored to be under his command.
So far I have only been seriously injured once. A bomb was dropped and landed about 30-40 meters away from me and I was blown off my feet and landed in a pile of mud and cuts all over my face and upper body. I dislocated my shoulder and had multiple stitches on my face. I was in the hospital for a couple weeks then was fine to go back to the front lines. The people working in the hospitals are mostly women and are very brave to be here and seeing what we are seeing. Some have died in coming to help the wounded, and I have the fullest respect for them. I hope to come home soon, and I promise to write again.
Love,
Your brave son
Dear Mother & Father,
Today I am being treated in a hospital for minor battle wounds, however I am much more fortunate than most. Many men admitted to this hospital die before they are even treated, suffering from horrible wounds, illness and shell shock. The hospital staff however is very kind and hardworking. The nurses and ambulance drivers are mostly women. I guess this is their way of contributing to this war. The conditions here have been extremely harsh. Life in the trenches has been anything but easy for me. We have spent past weeks in muddy, cold, flooding trenches, filled with the bodies of the dead. The stench is almost unbearable. It seems we are losing more and more men in the front lines every day, with almost no one to replace them. This battle is tough. Many men have died within meters of our trenches, shot down by German machine guns and artillery fires; many of the wounded drown in the mud. My time in the hospital will likely be short and I will be able to return to the front lines soon. With the recent victory at Vimy Ridge, we have to be ready for counter attack at any time. We are excited to be under the leadership of General Arthur Currie, the first Canadian general to lead our troops. I hope everything at home is well, and I wish more than anything for this war to end soon and that I may return home safely.
Love always,
Your son,
John.
Jessa Wing blk.A
Dearest Jane,
I may not have to tell you this, for it might be clear. War is hell. I would not wish this upon any man. The sound of gunshots and yelling is always heard here. I fear I have seen and heard too much of this. The cold bites at my skin and though my uniform is bulky it provides no help. Everyday I must watch to make sure the Huns aren’t planning anything. Sentry duty is particularly bad at night where it is hard to see into the no mans land. The things I have seen and the things I have done are not to be bragged about. We have won over Vimy Ridge but I fear there is more to come. With the deepest hope I feel that maybe this war will end soon because of this victory. I feel I am alone; the soldiers I have trained with are all dead. The thought of you is the only thing keeping me going. I hope that soon I will be out of these rat-infested trenches and back home. I wish you all the best and hope I will be back home soon.
Love Always, Liam
Courtney H. Blk. B.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I am fine. We grow tired every day, unable to sleep with gunfire and explosions day and night. We were able to take back one of our trenches that was lost to the German’s.
Today was pretty bad, it started raining and it turned the ground, almost like quicksand. I watched, helpless, as I shot at the advancing German’s, some of my platoon men’s bodies being sucked into the mud. It was a horrible sight. Hopefully the rain will stop soon.
I was shot the other day, in the shoulder. I am fine though. Doctor said I was lucky it didn’t go in a little closer to my throat, or I would have died. It is healing up pretty good though.
I miss you guys and I am hoping to be home in time for Christmas. Please, mom, send some of your delicious muffins.
Love,
Paige M.
Dear Paul,
I hope the war ends soon and you come home. I got a job working in the factory with mother, we don’t get paid a lot of money but we can still afford to put food on the table. We work all day but we only think about you and how we wish the war could be over, forever. War is just celebrated murder, I wish that it never existed. There must be a better way to solve the world’s problems. I don’t think I could ever go out to war, like you did. I would be too scared of never returning and of the things that you must see, most of which I could never imagine. We just sent off a parcel for you, full of biscuits and some candy. Hopefully it gets to you as quickly as possible. What is it like being at war, is it really scary? I heard mother talking about how when some of the men return from the war, it’s like they have lost their minds and are completely crazy. Some men return with their faces mutilated and many are missing an arm or leg. Please be careful, I do not want to lose my only brother. I hope that one day there will be no more war, and it will save our children from the sadness of having to deal with all this. Have you heard how much longer the war will be? Last I heard was that it would be over in four more months. Whoever invented war deserves to die (but I’m sure that they are already dead), they have caused so much pain and misery, not just for the soldiers, but also for their families and everyone else. Have you been in many battles yet? Is it lonely where you are, or have you made new friends in your battalion? I hope the nights aren’t too bad over there, but you will be home soon one day. Hoping to receive a letter from you very soon and for your safe return.
Love,
A.S
Dear George,
I hope you are doing o.k. I am doing fairly well here back home. What is it like fighting in the war, and do you know how much longer it will go on for? I bet it is terrible there and I feel very sorry that you had to go to war. I couldn’t imagine having to see and do all the things you have to do everyday. I don’t think I would be able to carry out those deeds and live in the conditions you have to live in. I wouldn’t be able to kill anyone either even if it was for our country. I wonder how much longer this horrible war will last; I really hope it won’t be much longer since we all miss you so much and I’m sure everyone else misses their families. I have finally got a job working on the railway, it’s tiring and we work long hours every day. I get paid a pretty good wage though so I am managing. Mother has turned very sick again and I fear that she will not make it much longer. She has had pneumonia on and off now for a few months. This last month she has become very sick and has been in and out of the hospital, mainly in more than out. Everyday she says how much it would mean to her if she got to see you one more time before she passes, so I hope that you get to come home very soon. A few raiding’s happened about a month ago and they came to our farm and took a few chickens and some tea and flour, but that was about it. There has also been a few homes destroyed here back here but that happened a long time ago and we haven’t seen any soldiers for a long time. Christmas is in a few months so I hope that you get to come home for the holidays but we will all understand if you can’t. All of us send our love and pray for you everyday to be safe, and pray for the war to finish quickly.
I have lost count of how many days I have been here in the frontlines. I have barely gotten a moment of rest in the past few weeks with all the gun shots and people screaming in their sleep, no doubt because of the war. As of writing this letter I am located in Passchendaele and the mud is far worse than any words could describe it. I’ve witnessed many comrades drown in the mud knowing I could do nothing unless I wanted to drown myself. Tanks can’t be used at all because of the mud and one tank even got swallowed whole. I wish I could be one of the fighters in the sky just so I could escape the hell that is down here on the battlefield. The Huns don’t have it any better than we do. Though we may have our differences I think that both groups here just want this war to end as soon as possible so we can see our families once again. Everyone is tired and barely has the strength to fight on. We used to be excited for war but now the thought of it disgusts me.
I was shot in the arm the other week and I had to get treated. The doctors worked as fast as possible to treat the countless wounded soldiers and very quickly I was patched up and sent back out on to the frontlines once again. My condition otherwise is fine.
I hope everyone is doing well back in Canada. I hope to be home for Christmas this year but with the way the war is going I doubt it will be over anytime soon. Now, I have to go get ready for another sleepless night, but by the time you get this I will have already gone through twenty. Take care.
Letter from the Front
Dear Bob,
Hello Bob. This is your brother Tyler writing from the frontlines of war. If there is one thing I can tell you, it is that the trenches are far from a nice place. This place is like a living non-fictional hell. The trenches are often very small and tend to be overly crowded. If it wasn’t bad enough that we were in a tight and small places with terrible weather and mud, but we also have to deal with all the corpses of fellow soldiers around us, including the corpses of our enemies that we have slain.
Life on the frontlines is not what it is all cracked up to be. Being on the front lines we are the first to go into combat and are the ones in constant danger day in and day out. We constantly are bombarded by shells from the enemy artillery and have the constant noise of bullets whizzing past us. Another huge issue is constant machine guns being trained on us when we go over the top. I have only gone over the top once so far, and at first it was quite exciting in a way, but by the end of the charge it was terrifying and I would be content with never going over the top again.
The military leadership was reasonable all things considered. In the beginning our commander was a brave and courageous man, but at some point during the war he seems to have gone mad, and we now have a new leader. He is very courageous and leads the charge every time, it’s almost a miracle he hasn’t been gunned down or shelled yet. In our only charge going over the top, I was the leader of a small group of soldiers, and we did quite well considering the constant fire and the other soldiers dropping around us like flies, we only had a few casualties in our small squad, and were given promotions all around due to our bravery and performance on the battlefield.
One of the biggest things we Canadians have going for us is our great amounts of morale and our inability to really be demoralized. We are a brave and courageous bunch of troopers. Although our losses have been considerable, us remaining Canadians still have a fighting spirit to fight against the German beasts! We are still behind each other all the way to the end, and it will remain that way until we stop the Germans in their hideous plot to take over France.
Lastly, we have been one of the most effective segments in the Allied army to date. We fought in a few majors battles, and had a couple of major victories in the war, one in specific was Vimy Ridge, where we seized and capture the Vimy Ridge from the German soldiers. This was our most notable victory, but we still press on! The Canadians will achieve their identity, and prove ourselves as a fighting force, in this war to end all wars.
Letter from the Front Lines
Dear Greg;
Dear Greg this is your Brother George writing to you from the Front Lines. It is completely awful here; make sure that you tell mom and dad that I will make it out alive. If I don’t I tried my best to make it home. There is dead people all around me and you can hear them groaning because they just got shot and are bleeding to death. I find it quite gross, at the start I got sick all the time but now I have became more immune to it then I have ever been. I think if I make it out alive I will become a surgeon I like seeing into the holes and trying to sew them up.
We get fed three times a day, the food is not good and I sure wish I could eat a healthy meal right now. It is left overs from day to day and normally just soup and bread. We all call it mush here. I have not been hit by any bullets yet but they sure have come close, like right over my head. The medical system here sucks but they try there best to sew you up if you get cut or shot, they don’t have all the technology that you guys have back home. Greg, you have to be great full that you have all that health care. It is pretty safe were you live compared to other places in the world.
The trench sucks a lot more than you could imagine. It is very crowded, you could be standing beside someone and touching your arm on there’s and they can be shot in the head. Its brutal and anything goes, normally you would get in trouble if you shot someone but here its just hard to get your mind around how you can shoot someone and not feel bad about it. I sure wish I didn’t have to come here. There are always bombs and cannons going off all around where I am staying, it is very scary but like I said you get used of it. Airplanes always fly above us try to bomb us so you have to watch out that’s fosure.
Take care,
Kyle Todoruk
Letter From The Front Lines
Dear mom,
As you know I am at war right now. I am writing to you from the front lines where I have been moved to. I never should have come here this is horrific. The dead bodies and smell of rotting flesh all around. When we go into battle today I am almost certainly going to die.
The trenches here are not fun to be in at all, they are muddy and full of corpses from the killed. There is blood everywhere and many of us suffer from trench foot. There isn’t much space to move around because of the number of soldiers.
There is always gunfire and bombs gong off all over around where I am staying. Airplanes fly overhead constantly and you never know when they are going to be enemy planes. I am so worried they will drop a bomb on us and kill so many of us.
The food here is bland and not pleasant. I get two meals a day and I feel like it does noting I work so hard all day long. I wish I could be home with you and eat one of your home cooked meals. A big plate of spaghetti would be amazing right now.
For now that is all, I want you to know I love you so much and I want you to know I am doing this for our country.
Yours truly,
Brandon Montgomery
Hey Lewis' class... read our letters!
Letter from the front
As I was laying in the trenches I could feel a rush of pain run through my right arm, because I just got shot. The feeling was in a way relieving, meant I was getting closer to death. I wish the bullet had moved over by the wind just so it could have hit my heart. I was tired of the bloodshed, watching my fellow soldiers die right in front of me. The pain was much worse then getting shot in my arm. I felt hopeless as if this war was never going to end, that I was just going to live my life killing. I began to think as I was laying there of my family back home, I am 32 years old I have a beautiful wife with a young 4 year old son whom I miss to my hearts extent. I look down and see one of my good mates lying there. He was shot I was sure of that, blood everywhere. I was upset, but in a way jealous, jealous of the fact that he got to leave and not worry about getting up tomorrow and watching the day to day battle. I know it was wrong of me to be thinking in such a way but I couldn’t help it. As I got my arm bandaged up I got ready to fight again, fight for our country, fight for my son and wife, that’s all that ever kept me going. I fought to my hearts extent, hoping for the best, because at that moment in time I didn’t care what happened to me.
- Sanjana.B, Block C, DPTodd
A Letter from the Front
A few men and I would lay low as bullets blew over our heads and bombs went off in the background. I remember a man a few feet away from me had gotten shot. It was instant death for him. This happened many times throughout the day, innocent men getting blown apart. There wasn’t a lot you could do but keep fighting. Your objective was to win the battle and support your country. You couldn’t help but make friends, but it was a sad day when one of them died. The medical service on the battlefield was outstanding, but some men could not be saved. As I was lying in the trenches I remember the musky smell of human decay, and the clouded air around me; the air was filled with dust and sweat. Getting packages and letters from my loved ones only made it harder to fight each day. I missed my wife, and my children. I missed the hardy home cooked meals, but I knew after all this was over with I would go home and see all them again. I fought hard for them, for our freedom.
Crystal H. Blk. C
Dear loved ones,
I am fine and doing okay. I just wanted to tell you I hope I will be home soon. The weather here is absurd and living in the trenches is even more horrendous. There are all kinds of diseases patrolling this filthy place and it is rat infested. Some nights we are all sleeping in the cold and damp. I’ve also made and lost some good friends in the battle of the Somme or around here we call it the “bloodbath”. It is only called a bloodbath because our commander Douglas Haig didn’t have a good strategy. We lost a lot of men yesterday and a lot are wounded. They’re getting medical treatment, but if it is something minor like a broken arm you still have to go back into battle, which is totally senseless. I haven’t been incapacitated yet and still have a lot left in me. I hope things at home are okay. I don’t have much time so I will write to you again soon.
Sincerely yours, Liam
Japinder P. blk. C.
Dear Mother and Father:
I apologize for not writing more often, I barely had the time to write today. I received your letters and I’d like to thank you for the dry socks and cigarettes you sent me. The war was quite brutal and even though it is quiet right now, I can still hear the sound of guns shooting and the cries of the other soldiers. The war left many soldiers killed and injured, some even lost their arms and legs, but I know the nurses are trying their best to help them. The living conditions here aren’t that great, and are nothing like how they were advertised. I wish I could come back home where it is far more comfortable, but I know I have to endure the smell of the decaying bodies left on this muddy trench for the sake of my country. The food is scarce, so I have to go through days being hungry. Some days I am so desperate for food, I think about eating the rats that the trench is invested with. On the bright side, we have defeated the Germans and conquered Vimy Ridge. The new technology, such as machine guns and planes, is so incredible and has helped us win, but on the other side it has done more damage than good. I don’t want you to worry too much about me, and I will try my best to come home safe. I want you guys to know that I love you a lot, and I hope I get see you guys soon.
Sincerely,
Your loving son.
Manisha K. Block C
Dear Family,
I am writing now because I do not know when I will be able to write later. The war is harder than we expected. I don’t mean to frighten you but things are bad and I can’t see them getting better anytime soon. The men are tired of fighting and watching others being injured or killed. I am lucky to be only bruised and sore. But physical harm is not our only difficulty. Every night I wake up to screams and howls from horrible nightmares of the awful battles we’ve fought. The last battle was at Vimy Ridge. We were victorious but still suffered greatly. Lieutenant-General Julian Byng planned our attack. These are the men that give us hope. They reassure us that we can beat the Huns. The nurses also encourage us with their willingness and devotion to their job. I want the war to end more than anything. I don’t know how many more times we can watch our men be mowed down by machine guns. The weather doesn’t help either, wading through mud and avoiding quicksand makes fighting even more difficult. I am not trying to be self-absorbed because I know that you go without at home also. I am thankful for your support and the sweets you sent earlier. I hope this letter finds you all well and I will see you when this is all over.
Love, John
Leigha L.
Mr. Thielmann
Block C
Dear Sally,
You have probably heard about our victory at Vimy ridge by now. It was defiantly a relief finally winning the battle. Although I am happy, I am still exhausted from the battle. War has got to be the worst thing. The trenches were muddy and dirty and I haven’t been able to change since I arrived. I miss you guys so much and the morale had been pretty low until the victory. Its giving us hope that the war may be over soon and that we can finally come home. Overall the Canadian troops fought long and hard. I’m proud to be Canadian. I’ve been doing a lot better since my last hospital visit. My wound has almost heeled, yet I still keep almost my entire left thigh bandaged up. I last wrote you while I stayed at the hospital, I was happy to get out of there because there were more people needing the care than I did. I hope you are doing well back home. How is your job going? I’m sorry I’m not there to take over the factory jobs. It’s not fair for you women to be doing that. I love you lots and hope to see you soon.
Love,
John
Megan St.John
Block C
Dearest Ellen,
I must apologize for the length of time since my last letter home. War has gotten the better of me for I have been in the hospital after being hit in the shoulder with a stray piece of shrapnel. Our victory at Vimy Ridge, which I am sure you have heard of in the papers, has lifted the men's spirits and I feel much relief I made it out alive. Vimy has already become a great source of pride among my fellow soldiers. I have grown so close with the men in my company and I feel obligated to honor the lives that have been lost.
The horrors of war took its toll on poor little Johnny Fleming, he sits on his hospital bed thrashing and screaming, reliving the events of past months. It is terrifiying knowing that many of the men you go into battle with won't come out. I have found life in the trenches to be very different from the cheery pictures on the ads. The trenches are cold and dark and often flooded in the heavy rains. Everything is muddy and there are rats living alongside us. Many people are dying of disease; some men have swollen, black feet, we call it 'Trench Foot'. There is an everlasting sound of gunfire and explosion and the constant fear of getting hit leads to exhaustion. There are bodies of men all over the trenches and any attempt of removal or buriel is impossible. The smell of decay and gun powder is overwhelming and if handy I mask it with a cigarette. I hope we learn from our mistakes but right now it is time for some happiness for we have a victory to celebrate.
How are the children? Are you managing the farm without much difficulty? I miss you dearly!
Much Love,
Arthur Widdifield
(Amber D.B. blk. C.)
Dear Family,
I’m not having the best of time here. I’m living in mud filled trenches also filled with rats, bodies of ours and other soldiers. I never knew how frightened one man or more can really be, until you have bombs dropping on the grounds above you. I wish that it could all stop but it can’t until we win…or lose the fight. The food is beginning to get scarce. Everyone rushes towards the food when it does arrive, sometimes-even leads to horrible fists swinging, but hey that’s how starving guys are. Remember Bill the lad I was friends with? Sadly I found him lying on the ground lifeless. I got even more scared and felt like crying like a newborn baby…but in war there is no room for sorrow and emotion. I was forced to shrug it off and continue this horrid battle knowing my best friend’s life was taken. I’ve come close to meeting death a couple times, there hasn’t been a day when I heard the shells of another enemies rifle ricochet past my helmet. I will do my best to keep in one piece and I really hope I can make it home to see you all.
Love George.
Hi Lewis's class and my three SS11 classes. I really enjoyed the letters... if any of my students have a LATE letter to show me, please print it directly ON OR BEFORE April 24th and talk to me... I won't check this blog again for the letters you posted.
April 20th, 1916
Dear Tyrone,
It’s been a while brother. Good news is I’m still alive. I’ve seen a lot in my time spent during this war. I saw a man take a buck knife to the spleen. I done tied myself my own gosh darn fingers back to my hands. Got blown right off by a damn hand grenade. Of course this pretty young lassie stitched me up good. Her name is Gretchen and I got her pregnant. Tell Ma she’s going to be a grandma. The damn trenches smell like hot cow manure on a sweaty Sunday. I just miss the farm, the animals too. How’s my horse Geronimo doing anyway that 3-legged devil. Must be still hobbling around like an old nun with arthritis. The enemies are tough; tougher than possum meat. I lost my best friend at my camp 3 days ago. He accidently drank contaminated water. He got raging Diarrhea and damn near flooded the trenches it seemed like. We didn’t know what was wrong with him. We don’t know what’s wrong with many of the people. It’s scarier than the old prairie thunder to know how much people have changed because of this battle. We Canadians offer what we can, were small but scrappy. A good combination like mashed potatoes and roast beef. My women Gretchen and I are excited to just get past this war and have our child. I’ll see you soon y’all.
Love Rufus.
J. Mior
Cam R.
July 6th 1918
Dear Mother and Father,
Sorry for the delay since my last letter but I have been having troubles finding a peaceful time to write. Last week I suffered a wounded left testical and I haven’t been able to urinate since. My nurse says if I do not urinate soon, my bladder could expand and I will suffer severe lower abdomen pain . Since then many soldiers have been killed every day and from what I have been hearing from my bed, it wont end soon. A soldier from Prince George, named Nadroj Singhdeep, who lays in the bed next to me, tells me his stories of fighting in the trenches, and how he is so confident Canada will win this battle. On the first day of battle we lost 43,000 British troops, almost a third of our force. Commander Steve Alan sent out 13 of our divisions to attack and to divide the German line. Commander Steve Alan’s great leadership and cavalry background gave us great confidence going into the attack. However, our artillery failed and we failed to break through the German line. All of there soldiers hid in the trenches until quiet and came back at us with heavy machine guns. That is how I suffered a bullet wound underneath but pelvic bone and wound up in the hospital. The nurses have done their rest work to treat my injuries but I will have to rest and pass urine through a tube until swelling goes down. Writing this letter has greatly tired me and I will end it here. I hope I haven’t worried you two too much.
Love Alan Steve.
Dear Mother
It’s been a rough and emotional time. I’ve seen hundreds possibly even thousands of people die. I’m so use to sleeping in trenches that even a couch would feel like luxury, even a blanket would be nice. I am battling in the war down in Ypres, it’s crazy the Germans are going ballistic, gassing, burning or killing any Canadian that they see. Not even going to lie it’s a honor to be alive. Now I don’t want you to get all crazy and think you will never see me again or anything like that. I’ve been well hidden from the Germans and keeping my ground to play it safe. I should be home soon say in about two or three months, and until then just know that I love you and I’ll be home very soon. Xoxoxo
Love, Mitchell.
M.H
Letter Home
Hi hunny we have just got here we went to the front lines today it wasn’t very happy there a massive amount of death and decay as the boom of mortor shell crash into the side of the hills and gas blasts us every hour on the hour no one can sleep because we’re all trying to stay awake so we don’t get invade I’ll send you another letter when I have time love you.
Hi I am back we just got our new shipment of guns and bullets were going to invade in a half hour if I don’t make it out alive I just want to let you know that i am proud of our son for all his achievements in the first grade I love you both.
Hello this is captain smith your husband was a great man but he was killed today at seven am. We are very sad that he had to leave us but we just give you our condolences on behalf of the Canadian government for your husband’s valiant efforts in this war long live peace in our country he fought to keep it safe.
Ben Garcia
Dear Jill,
The war is harder than I expected. The trenches are a rough life the autumn rain pours in with hardly little cover the rain beats off your helmet. Most of the time you hardly hear any rifles fire but shelling is continuous the ground quakes you always hope that when you hear the whistle of the shell you just pray that the shell does not rain down upon you but some are not so lucky. Are morale is high after the great victory at Vimmy ridge. A great test of our capabilities although their technology greatly advances ours with theyr fierce machine guns can tear through us like we were nothing. I was at the battle of Ypres. The awful use of chlorine gas. Many man died. The yellow gas stayed close to the ground in wisps. At first no one quite knew what to do death was all around us gas billowed around us we were surrounded. The gas burned my eyes made my voice hoarse I was not too worried I moved away taking my men with me. They were all frightened most were only 18 years old, some younger lied about their age to get in. I have to sign off now we are about to move out. I love you my dear Jill I will come home to you.
KN Period 2
Dear, Family
The Battle of Ypres isn’t going as well as I’d like, the Germans have started to use chlorine gas, a terrible weapon that drifts across the battlefield wiping out any living thing it comes across. Just yesterday an entire trench of ours was wiped out from the gas alone. I haven’t slept in weeks because of the constant gunshots and explosions from artillery shells happening constantly all around us, and whenever I do sleep I get woken up by a rat creeping across my face. Our conditions here were terrible between the constant noise and shaking from artillery and the rats but it’s also extremely crowded in here, and on top of that we aren’t even to peek our heads out because if we do we are at risk of dying because of all the snipers watching us. I know I said I’ll be home by Christmas but I was wrong and I’m going to be here for a lot longer. I hope I get to come home and see you guys again soon.
Love, C.T.
Dear joy
I was so excited to come out and fight for the country of Canada. When I got here it changed my perspective completely. The trench warfare was so devastating the things ive done and seen will haunt me for the rest of my life. The constant bombs going off are enough to drive people insane. Oh and it has. Then there is the use of the machine guns. That gun has ripped through more people that kids with wrapping paper, but the men just keep running towards it. The images are so gruesome. Us Canadian troops are days away from cracking vimmy ridge. Hopefully we are able to pull it off so we can come home. How is the family? Are they all healthy? Write back soon. <3.
Sincerely
Jimmy Billy Joe Bob T.F
Dear Family,
I apologize for not writing more often, I barely had time to write today. The war has been getting more brutal with the gas weapons. Yesterday we got past no man’s land and made it to their trenches, but we were forced back because of the machine gun. I was lucky to have made it back there were only a couple of survivors. Every day the soldiers rush to the enemy’s side and hope we can reach their side before we are shot down. A couple days ago I was shot in the arm and the medical team cut of my arm. My arm has been sore for a couple of days. I am still being treated but don’t worry about me the women here do a good job of taking care of me. I have not been in the frontlines for a while but, Our Canadian troops have made progress. The Canadian troops almost have vimy ridge. Once we have vimy ridge I will be able to come home soon.
Sincerely, S.G
Dear family.
I hope things are going well back at home. I wish I could say things were going well here, everyday I wonder if I will make it home. The gunshots and bombs are almost natural to me now, the trenches are crowded and wet with rats running around everywhere, each day I have the fear of getting my head blown off or bombed. Many of the men are sick and dying we have minimal medical treatment, people are dying everyday from disease, people returning from the front lines are missing limbs, today I seen a man come in and half his face had been blown off. Without the leadership of some of the commanders surely we would have lost this battle months ago and I would have been dead. The troops have become like brothers to me, whenever someone doesn’t make it back it tears me apart on the inside, the sacrifices these men make for each other is unimaginable, a man who I had never spoken to before jumped on a grenade to safe my life. I know that one day I will make it back home but if I don’t just remember that I will always love you.
Love J.R
Dear, Family
Today marks my 22nd birthday but there is no reason to celebrate. We are still battling near the Somme River in France. As I fight many soldiers beside me fall, I’ve witnessed many deaths but now I’m starting to think none of this will stop until all of us have died. I could have never been prepared for this; both sides have suffered a heavy loss. I believe that our commanders set us up to die, making us cross no man’s land. Their tactics prove to be useless since no one seems to come back. Wave after wave leave, but all get shot down because of the Germans machine guns. All I ever see now is bombs exploding and gunfire at every angle. I hear a ringing in my ears at all times and it is starting to drive me insane. Life in the front line has been hard but I am still alive. I’ve suffered minor injuries but thanks to our medical treatment and the supporting women nurses I was out within the next couple of days, back in the trenches. Since the war has started we have captured around 7 kilometers of land. Except one question stays within my head what are we fighting for. I’m hoping that I will survive long enough to see you all again.
Love Always, T.J.
April 27th 1915
Dearest Samantha,
I am finally able to rest from the front lines. I was pulled from action. I couldn’t breathe since the Germans were using a chlorine gas that stings the eyes and burns the throat and lungs and in my confused, lightheaded state I was shot in the leg. Please worry not for me, save your strength for you and your current condition. In brighter news, a week ago we were able to cross to not only one, but two trenches over before things started getting messy on our side. I want you to know that even with the love and passion here, fighting for our country there is no one I will love more than you and our sweet baby on the way. Oh, and Lieutenant John McCrae has been working on more poetry, I even found one he wrote about the battle we’re in. He says it only took him about twenty minutes but I like it. If I can convince him to try and publish it I will show you when I return. Drat, the nurse is here to check on my leg and my vitals. I will write again as soon as I can.
Yours Truly,
Private George Kimbal
(Written By J.Loney,
Period 2)
Dearest Mother,
I apologize for the inconsistency in which these letters have been sent. It is difficult to find time to write let alone concentrate. Tensions are running high here in the trenches. With the constant noise and bombardment I fear most of these boys will not be able to return even if they survive the battle. A few of them in my platoon have developed a twitch or are shaking like mad. We’ve also been hearing talk of “going over the top”. I almost welcome it. It would be nice to get out of this squalid pit and use the pointy end of our guns. All we do is wake up and shoot our rifles at the other trench in vain. Last week we had news of a possible impending gas attack. That only managed to heighten the looming fear of death. I do not believe it to be any time soon though as I can still see rats scampering about. It’s almost funny really. When one plight ends it only means that a worse one is yet to come, and when the rats come back they feast on the dead. On a lighter not though, a letter came in the mail for me today. A friend of mine got out of the hospital and was discharged with a purple heart. He had gotten shot and the doctors had to take his arm. War is a terrible business but it must be done, we must not give up! We have already accomplished what the British and French could not. I hope that with all of our victories the war will soon come to a close. Take care of the dog and yourself.
Yours Truly,
M.B.
Dear Family.
I am very grateful that you have all been writing letters back to me, I am glad to know you are all safe and healthy. There is not a minute that goes by when I’m not thinking about all of you, especially Johnny and Carla, the two greatest kids ever. My location has not changed, we have been in the same trench for about two months now and the sad thing is that it’s starting to feel like home to me. For the most part they are safe and when there are invaders they usually don’t take down much before they get shot. I often feel as if this war will never end, and the thought of never seeing you again is crushing me inside. The new weaponry and technology is changing a lot of the tactics that were usually used, the grenades are being used to do destroy the walls of the trenches before the front line tries to invade them. I was on the front line a couple weeks ago and as I was getting rapidly shot at I saw a nearby grenade get tossed at the guys next to me, I yelled as loud as I could to warn them but it was too late and I lost 4 great friends that day. Although I haven’t known them for long I see them as brothers. I know that any of these men would sacrifice their life for mine as would I for them. Our leader has been working on a new way to infiltrate the enemy and the plan will be intact within the next few weeks. Without our captain I believe I would’ve been dead no less than two months ago. I hope to see you all very soon.
Love Webster B.A
Dear Mom and Dad,
I miss you so much it hurts. I’m cold, wet and dirty. Right now we are building trenches waiting for something to happen, hauling rocks to hold the trench sides from falling. Tomorrow we finally go to the front lines and my guns skills are tested.. I don’t know everything about this machine gun yet, but let’s hope I’m a fast learner. It’s hard to imagine half the people who were here last night, gone because they decided to fight for their country. The only friend I had here is slowly dying laying in the no man’s land on barbed wire.
Today, we went to the front lines and I killed many people. I have pride for my country, just not pride for what I do to keep that pride. Watching all those men go down, along with our men. There is a woman in the medical unit who a couple of the men say “have eyes for me”. She’s beautiful, if we get through this war, mother can look forward to helping plan our wedding.
We’re done for today, I can’t wait to return home and see you and for you to meet Elizabeth. I love you, till next time.
September 16th, 2013.
Am Br
Dear Family and Friends,
Even though we have won our war, it does not feel like a victory. 3 months spent in trenches fighting every day, and for what? So we can gain 15 kilometers of land? No amount of land will ever equal the 15 000 men we lost.
This is not what I signed up for. I did not expect fields to have huge trenches dug in them, with barb wire and rats. The trenches were long and only about a foot or two wide. Trenches were used a strategy against the opponent so they could not see us. As a machine gun fired it would incinerate every person who came near it. More trenches behind it usually contained more enemies or supplies. Even though the war was gruesome, nothing was worse than the rats. Black and brown swarmed the entire battlefield; sometimes they could be as big as a cat. The black rats were okay, but the brown rats were disgusting. They people would die the rats would make entry into the body and eat the insides of the person. Sometimes those were my friends. My birthday is fast approaching but I will not be celebrating, after all, all of my friends are dead.
Life in front lines was deadly. It was almost certain death as soon as you came out of the trench. Barb wire, machine guns, snipers and grenades all being thrown at you. It was nearly impossible to survive. If you did, then you had to fight through a whole trench full of enemies. Then its game on.
War was surprising. I had never seen so many different weapons and cavalry. The use of machine guns, modern artillery and airplanes. It was fascinating and terrifying, the power of the machine gun was unmatched. Airplanes provided major support from the sky. The worst thing was the gas. Once you took a breath of it, it was lights out.
If you weren’t dead, you had major injuries. The medical treatment was horrific, many soldiers died after hours of pain and grief. I do understand there were many soldiers getting injured. Medical staff could just not keep up; they did as best they could with what they had. I was very fortunate to only take a bullet that just barely hit my calf. For this, I am grateful.
When we returned to our village where our troops were staying, we noticed a difference when we got back. Women were doing all of our jobs. They were doing jobs such as, mechanics, nurses, factory workers, sewing bandages, selling war bonds, shipyards and being spies. With us gone, they had to take over and do all the things a man would do. Triumph, was the only thing going through the women’s minds. They proved that they could do more than clean houses and watch kids.
Sincerely, your son, C.A.
To My Dearest Emma,
Days here without you are very long. Sometimes I don’t know where we are I just move when they tell me to. Our rights here are awful, I thought that living in Canada would be better for our Family but thinking about it more and more we have nothing. I miss you so much but I am so glad you didn’t come because the rights of women here in Canada are awful. Their salary all goes to the husband and they get to have it. They are not allowed to vote nor had few rights over the property of their children so our little boy who is along the way could be taken away. When we get into battle there are these trenches that we would wait in and we would be in there for days maybe even weeks just waiting for our time to shoot.
Today was the first day I shot my machine gun. It gave me a rush, something you could never imagine to feel in your life. I killed three men today and I still feel sick to my stomach about it but that’s the ways of warfare. The trenches we would be in were huge it’s not just something that you would see on the side of the road and there were hundreds on men dead all over the fields and in the trenches also. I’m lucky to be alive at this point. At the end of the day I even wonder what we are fighting for because there is honestly nothing in the fields and no trees nor nothing. It seems like once we win a bit of land and win a battle there is another battle right away and you would be back to right where we were started.
I wish I was with you right now I don’t want to be here anymore the leadership is terrible I have lost many friends due to how poor it is. I will be home soon I promise and I will be home for our baby’s birth. I love you and I will see you soon
Lots of love from yours truly, JL
xoxo
Dear Mother,
It has been ten days since we have arrived in Ypres, Belgium to fight the Germans. My excitement about serving for our country has come to a halt. I would have written sooner but the enemy has been using gas which has caused major complications and many of our men have died. On the evening of April 22 the Germans bombarded us with a mysterious yellow-green cloud. Unfortunately our troops were told to stand in and the gas caused our men to suffer from choking attacks. We all must take turns serving in the front line, some longer than others. Death is a common occurrence on the front line, I am surrounded by rotting bodies of past friends and watch as the giant rats that have taken over our trenches feast on their remains.
Being at the war has made me realize I have taken the comfort of our home for granted. In the life of the trenches we are constantly being bombed by the enemy and my ears ache from the earth shattering blows coming from above. The troops are constantly trying to maintain the trenches by rebuilding fallen walls and emptying the flooded areas. One of the worst aspects of the trenches is the horrid reeking smell that is sticking to the air. My nose burns from the mixed smell of rotting carcasses and sweating soldiers.
The women that have made the journey to Ypres with us have been trying to attend to hurt and fallen men but unfortunately have not been too much help. Most medical problems range from a blown off arm or life taking diseases that are untreatable. You may think the life of a nurse in the war would be safer but I have seen many nurses been killed by the enemy while trying to help a fallen soldier, leaving us with two less people than we had started with.
The weaponry has become much more advanced since the stories dad had written about in his letters home many years ago. There are now big machines called tanks that are able to move across no man’s land sending missiles to the opposing lines and destroying many men and trenches at once. Many men have been killed trying to cross no man’s land by the enemy’s machine guns, which rapidly shoot bullets at troops. We have been unsuccessful at every attempt in crossing no man’s land.
I have all hopes in returning home to you when the war is over and we have become victorious. Please do not become hopeful in my return though for we have already lost a great number of men and I must return to the front line after dawn.
Sincerely your son,
A.K.
Dear my beloved wife Sandy,
Life on the battlefield is extremely heart wrenching, and terrifying. The past month has been unbelievable. I’ve happen to see my best friend Joe get shot right before my eyes. The feeling I had was unexplainable, the blood gushing from his chest, with the last breaths he took he told me to tell his wife and kids he loved them. Every day I see almost 1000 friends and soldiers die in Trenches fighting for our country, sleeping in Trenches makes even a bed feel like a luxury, and a hot bath is definitely needed. Christmas is just a couple days away, and I’ll never find a way to forgive myself for missing it with my family. Tell the kids I love them, and not to fight. I’ll be home before you know it. I love you so much and I’ll be sure to write you soon. Merry Christmas to my beautiful family. Xoxo
Love,
Nathan Riley.
T.H
Dear Mother and Father
It has only been a week since I was shipped off to my squadron. Only a week since I survived Vimmy Ridge, or as I like to call it, hell on earth. The boys and I are happy about the victory, but at the same time mourning over the loss of our fellow soldiers. We underwent weeks of training, drills, and rehearsing so that we knew we would be ready when the time came. At 5:30 am, April 9th. My division along with 3 others stormed the ridge. I knew what to expect. You could hear the cannons, mortars, and guns for miles. There were well over 15,000 of us, and even with our officers dead. We took hill 145 within two hours of our attack. The cheering overcame the sounds of the German weapons as we raised the flag.
I couldn’t believe our accomplishment, but I knew we weren’t done yet. I turned to my best friend, Pvt. Walker. Who to my horror, was lying next to a machine gun nest, with a stray bullet through his head. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, this is war…. But I still couldn’t believe it happened to my best friend. We pushed forward. The Bloodshed an carnage I’ve seen from those three days will haunt me for the rest of my life. Our total losses added up to 3,598 killed and 7000 wounded. The General said the dead will always be in our hearts and this day will give us a reason to fight again. I must end this letter now its time for a training drill. I will be home soon
Lots of Love
A.G.
Dear Mother and Father
I have only been fighting for my country, and been away from family and friends for a month. Yet, I miss home greatly and through the eyes of my fellow soldiers, and it seems this war will go on for longer than we expected. I have been selected to take part in the battle of Vimy Ridge, which is to happen in a couple days. To prepare for the attack we have been building a network of tunnels and bombarding the enemy camps for a while now. The commanders have great faith that this battle will be a success. As they have thought this plan out very precisely. The life in the trenches is not an easy one though. They are dirty, muddy and can get very cramped in there with all the soldiers piled in one place at the same time. Many of my friends have been experiencing what we have known to call “Shell Shock”. The men have begun to shake and jump at the sounds of the shells hitting around them. It saddens me to see them like this.
The other troops though, they have grown to have respect for Canadian troops. As we have been in many battles and fought beside the British, they have grown to fight side by side with us. The British soldiers have also thought of us as “elite troops” due to our effectiveness on the front lines. I had hoped to be home by Christmas, but it seems this war will go on for a lot longer than any of us had expected. Life here is not the best, places that were once green and fertile have been mowed down by shells and all that is left is the dirt and mud. I have hope that the leaders of these countries will come together and work something out between them. The women also have a role in the army. They have been put to use with medical purposes and the driving of the vehicles. We have to improvise when it comes to the medical treatment though. Such as if a man has no more use of an arm or a leg, it must be amputated. I’m hoping to see you and my siblings soon, give them my best for me.
I will see you all soon,
Love R.W
Dear Beth,
I love and miss you so much. I cannot wait to be home, I think of you every day. How is my little Josie doing? I can’t stand the thought of missing her grow up. I am currently near Somme River and this war never seems to end. I can hear the echoes of bombs going off in the distance right now as I am writing this, and sometimes I question if I will even make it out alive. I am always in a cold damp ditch being shot at, they are actually called trenches and we use them as defense mechanisms. We don’t have that many weapons, a little more than machine guns would be nice, but we make the best with the ones that we do have. Hopefully we will gain more throughout the battle, and we gradually do anyways. Many of our commanders fail to even understand that our new weapons will need new tactics. I never feel safe but the thought of you makes me keep hope that I will someday soon return. We have lost many soldiers already, some who I have grown very close too and it is like losing a brother. I am ashamed to say I have killed men, but that is the part of the job and I have to in order to protect myself. In fact, if I get hurt there isn’t much hope for me; our so called hospitals are nothing but bandage providers. They bandage whatever part of your body that they can and call you fixed. Many men are disfigured now, and practically useless, and that is if they made it out alive from the hospitals. I don’t even want to mention the gas; I do not want to scare you. Just keep faith for me. You would be surprised how many women there are fighting along with us as well, I have met many great women soldiers, but I have to say it doesn’t work out well for them; they usually get gassed or bombed. Anyways, I must be off I need to get some rest. I love you and will keep in touch, tell Josie I love her. See you soon.
Much love, TG
Dear Mother and Father,
I regret to inform you that I have been injured quite extremely. They have had all of the best nurses have a look at me and it’s been decided that nothing can be done. This fact saddens me because I have yet so much more to see and experience, but at least I’ll go with a sense of pride knowing that my death was caused by fighting for my country. I won’t give your hearts an ache by explaining what has happened, so I’ll just tell you all that my weak memory can muster up. There’s been so much that I have wanted to tell you all.
The trenches are horrendous. We spend our days standing about in mud that soaks our boots through and our horses often get stuck in. Pesky rats spend much of their time infecting many of our soldiers with diseases that they cannot overcome.
The repetitive sound of the guns firing is unbearable. Many of our men have suffered from nervous breakdowns so far. They begin to turn on their own kind and attempt to kill them in their sleep. They’re always shaking and quivering, with a crazy eyed expression on their face. I’m not sure how much more they can endure.
It pains me that I won’t be present for Christmas. I’m sorry that my journey must end here, for now I will no longer be able to fight for our country. I must go now. I can sense my breaths slowing down as my heart prepares to come to a full stop. Please send my love to the entire family. Take care and know that I will be with you in spirit, always.
Sincerely,
Your son.
J.W.
Letter home
July, 1917, passendale Belgium, I could never picture a true hell until now, the enemies started using something called mustard gas, a very very horrible thing, rots the inside out of men and they eventually start throwing up there inside organs, such a terrible way to go. Trying to avoid all the bombshells and machine guns and chemical warfare is only half the battle, there is a constant fear of catching a disease going around everywhere, rats carry it and infect more and more men. Running out into machine guns is one thing but running out to machine guns while you’re sick, well, you’re not going to make it very far. Will right back the next time I get a chance.
M.C
Dear family,
The war life has been hard for me down in these trenches. They are filled with water and dead people. We sleep in the trenches during the night and the Sap watches out for us. Our technology is terrible compaired to the Germans. The Ross rifle always gets jammed so we have to scramble and try and find a gun on the ground that works. The battle strategies are not planned very well, they keep on sending troops and they get killed. The general thought that they could kill 100 people at once but they got killed so he sends out 1000 soldiers and they get killed. The strategies were failing and the people on the front line were getting demolished. The women we have serving us are very good at helping wounded people and helping with supplies, Jasmine would be a good doctor because she always took care of me when I got hurt.
Deep from my heart,
C.J
Dear Family,
August 13, 1915
This war is hopefully as close to hell as I’ll ever get. I could never have dreamed up something this terrible. I live in constant fear. My days are spent in my trench, and nights in the dug out. Although I look forward to when I get to retire to my dug out, it is barely any more comfortable than the trenches. One of the worst parts is the rats, they are everywhere and they seem to get into everything. We try to kill them, but there never seems to be any less. Some are almost as big as Fluffy. I would love be able to leave my trench, but then that has seemed to cause almost certain death. Our commanders seem intent on doing nothing more than butting their bloody heads against the wall, they send wave after wave of men out there, but to no avail. The men are almost always mowed down by powerful machine guns before they can get to the trenches, and once they get there, it is barely an accomplishment. What can they really do with their Ross rifles? They are a piece of junk that rarely works. The equipment that we as Canadians receive is awful all around. Our boots fall apart right away and our rifles never work. How can we compete with machine guns and poisonous gases? The technology that is being used in this war has never before been seen, and our commanders are living in the past thinking that the tactics from the 16th century are going to work now. They somehow think that they can fight technology with human beings. Every day more men are sent over the wall of our trenches and lose their lives for no visible gain. How can I be excited about fighting for my country when my commanders are too blind to see that they are sending us out there to face almost certain death. All I can do is wait for my name to be called and the whistle to be blown….
Wishing I never came,
A.H.
Dear Betty,
As you know I’ve been working as a nurse in a trench near Ypres for about 6 months now. It isn’t a clean, proper clinic like you’d expect in this new exciting war. No it’s quite the opposite. Our “clinic” is in a small sheltered hole in the ground directly next to the trenches and beyond that, the gory battle scene. Everyday I’m learning something new like amputating limbs, treating deep, already infected wounds from our filthy surroundings and how to properly protect myself from the dreadful poisonous gas killing a large percentage of our men. One of our biggest problems is the overpowering machine gun tactics the Germans possess which kill the soldiers we send out before we can even help treat them. As strong and determined the Canadian troops may have been,they are dying at a despairing rate, it’s quite despairingly awful. When I’m not disposing dead bodies I’m cleaning up bloody vomit from one of the poor victims of mustard gas. It makes me sick to my stomach how much death and disease I’m surrounded by everyday, it really makes one question the thought process of the British General and whether our Canadian troops are safe in this hands. As bleak and miserable of a setting I’m currently dealing with here, I’m quite excited to find out that you are finally able to live your “wacky” dream of becoming a fisherwoman. It may only be because there are scarce working age men in town, but even so the fact that a woman is capable of replacing a typically male position gives me hope that one day after this neverending world wide war, we will be able to vote and be treated as equals finally.
Your Loving Sister, Joan
By: Ashley McComber, Period 2
Dear Family：
Today is my second day fight in Passchendaele which city is in Belgium. I can’t believe that I still alive. The shells fallen like raindrops, it got everywhere. I watched my superior were ripped apart not far away from me, though we were staying in trenches. I was so scared , it made my blood runs cold. Nevertheless, I killed some crazy German soldiers with machine gun. Finally,the battle halted at the evening. During the night, I can’t stop thinking about my life. That moment, which my superior died was repeated again and again. I am sitting in the trenches, there are a continual gunshot noises around me. I can see lots of rats are eating the mangled body of my comrade-in-arms. Yeah, they always does that, even when we was asleep. They also try to eat us. It’s so horrible! I don’t want to stay here anymore, but I must be here because of my pride. I love you so much. I hope I could see you again.
Sincerely,
B.S.
Dear Mother and Father,
The first day of the Battle of the Somme is nearing an end at last. Today our side of the battle has suffered tremendous loss, close to 58 000 men of our British troops if what I have heard is true. We are all somewhat confused by the outcome of our attacks earlier on this day, as though it seems that our old, successful strategies are now failing us. The sights I have witnessed, oh horror, as sending the men out wave by wave, yet without prevail in fighting the Germans with their massive artillery, especially against a new weapon that has been referred to as a “machine gun”. Although I have survived the battle today, by working in the trenches I do suffer. It is July, but the heavy rains worsen our conditions down here, making mud an issue along with the rats and what seems to be a cold that is going around; many men have been getting sick. It has become so muddy and damp in the trenches as we have been out here for days, shelling the German lines, again without much success. The Germans have shelled us as well, and I live in constant fear, as the sounds of the explosions continue to pound in my head, but I know it is much past the hours of battle.
On the better side of our situation, I feel as though our men are bonding together, even if it is during an unpleasant time. I believe that I am beginning to understand what it is like to truly be a Canadian. Even if our attack today lacked a great result, we will press on! As Canadian men, we shall fight with honour and dignity, putting our lives on the line for our country. The women appear to be doing their part with us. Quite a few are out in the fields, working as part of the Royal Canadian Army Medical Corps to aid the wounded and sick men, whether that means what are most often amputations or sometimes comfort in the face of death. There have been several nurses whose lives were lost on the field, as gunshots do not have mercy for any person, man or woman.
I do hope that I am able to make it back home to you, but my chances seem to direct me to the opposite conclusion.
Yours truly with love,
M. McDermid.
Dear family
I have been here for three months now we have traveled to Passchendaele in Belgium. It has rained every day we have been here. There is booms going off day and night the crater fill with water. We are living in the trenches there is thousands of rats that will crawl on you when you are sleeping and shells going off night and day it is hard to sleep. Thousands of people die every day form poor medical treatment and gun fire. There is nothing left on the ground it is just mud and craters for the shells. I have made lots of friends from defend parts of Canada. I am on the front lines I had to kill a German soldier running towards the trench yesterday. Some kids I went to school got shot down when I first got here one lived just down the street from us. My leader said that we going across the battle field tomorrow and kill the German machine gunners it could be my last steps I ever take. We have been testing out tank for the last week they have hung guns and thick armor. This could be the last time I get to talk to you.
D.V.
Post a Comment