Trench Warfare

My Dearest Mary,

Everything is gone. All that excitement and anticipation that had built up before arriving to our destination has now vanished into thin air. Two days. That’s all the time that has passed by so far in these horrible trenches. With full assertion, I can say that these days have been the most nightmarish time of my entire life. It is just so awful, I cannot think of where to begin. It rains quite often. It is raining now, and I must say I don’t appreciate the rain as much as I did back home. You see, the rain pours down to our trenches from above, mixing with mud as it floods our homes. It hammers against the rocks, the bodies, everything and anything that lies on the bare ground. Quite soon, it will reach our knees and once again I’ll wonder what would happen if it never stopped. Now that I think about it, I’m surprised I can hear the rain today. Usually, one can only hear the explosions and gunfire nearby, or the new aircrafts buzzing overhead. These sounds are so frequent that they are barely noticeable anymore. Love, if that sends shivers up and down your spine; imagine lice swarming all over your clothes and skin, sucking on blood, which fills them with life. That is exactly what is happening as I write this. I’ve already lost so much blood from the injuries in warfare, and I doubt I have any left in my veins. But those little pests just don’t understand, do they?  My fellow boys and I pick them out whenever we have time, usually in the sunlight. All our clothes are already infested by these nuisances. We know it’s no use, they’ll just keep coming back; it just gives us something to take our mind off of other things from. No wonder soldiers have short hair here. There is no need of any more infestations then what we are already dealing with. As if that’s not enough, we are also accompanied by rats that scurry around in these deep trenches in search of food. I know love you may be thinking, what food would they find down here? Food is quite scarce. However, they feed on the meat of the dead, lifeless bodies that surround us. These pale faces bring the realization that any one of them could be me. Two days, only 48 hours and my life has completely changed. It is now time to shift into the front trenches. I’ve heard many drastic stories about the front lines... I guess I’ll have to experience them myself now. Don’t worry though Mary, you know me. I’m quite strong, and I ain’t going anywhere without seeing your lovely face again.

 

Jacques DuBois

 

 

 

 

Sources:

Canadians at War 1911-1918 By: Donald M. Santor

http://www.firstworldwar.com/features/trenchlife.htm