Life On The Western Front-Personal Narrative

The Western Front, while the main focus of combat in WW1, many Australians ignore this part of the war, as they focus more on the Gallipoli campaign and its legend. However with the centenary of the First World War here, many people have begun to realise that Australia was involved in other theatres of the war, and not just Gallipoli. The focus of this essay will be on the Events leading up to Australia’s involvement, the weapons of the western front, life in the trenches, trench warfare, The Battle of Fromelles and the End of the war.

It is March first, I miss you so much it is unbearable. Sleeping can be awful out here in the trenches only because I want to be home in a comfy bed again safe and sound where war isn’t the only thing on my mind. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I can’t breathe because I dream someone has invaded our trenches and shot me. It isn’t easy being out here but if it means fighting for you then it is what I will do.

Yesterday I was at work from sunrise till it was pitch black dark. Today I am completely wrecked and can’t be bothered doing anything but tomorrow and for however long the war goes for I will be at it again and again day after day. The days that follow after the battle are a thousand times worse than the days of the battle and it’s not the physical pain that hurts the most it is the mental pain that leaves the mark. The dead people look sickening but they don’t suffer any pain, But the poor wounded soldiers that still have their life are suffering both physical and mental pain and are living through what some people would call hell. I pray to God that this ferial event will stop. Our Regiment started this morning for Harpers Ferry. I am told with a few others and the nurses to remain here until the wounded have been removed then to join up with the Regiment again. I am expecting there will be another massive fight at Harpers Ferry again soon. My Dear Wife I dream of the day I pass the Hibbards house and see you and Amy waiting outside our house welcoming me with open arms, I also dream of the day I am lying next to you in front of our open fire with our beautiful daughter. You

I am Ella Karcewski reporting to you on this gloomy Spring evening, hoping that this war may soon be over. I am currently experiencing a day that I will never forget. The images that I am seeing, and the heartbreaking pain that I am feeling will never be erased from my naive mind. I feel nearly speechless and am saddened for those drastically affected by this war. I am encountering a tragedy as soldiers and horses alike are collapsing to the ground, screams of pain coming from their courageous bodies. Pouring rain is drenching horses and soldiers, and darkness is curtained over the gloomy sky. Ominous clouds fill the atmosphere above, and it seems that the sun wouldn’t dare peek out on this bellicose April day in 1915. All of this French territory

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you all, but I do hope you all are well. It has been a rough three months since I've joined the other nurses in aiding this war and needless to say I have settled in and adapted to the conditions. Since the beginning, nothing has changed within these 3 months, neither side had gotten much advantage of the war. It would be as if a back and forward tug of war between the two sides. Everyday I watch from the tent as hundreds of men rot away in the horrid conditions of the trenches. Many were brought in but many doesn't mean all. After barely being treated and having about a week of recovery soldiers were sent back to suffer in the battlefield. A few weeks ago a huge storm crossed the battlefield. The trenches

All bullets were counted, beds made, uniforms cleaned, this occurred until suddenly 03:45 arrived. “Men, the time is nearly here,” my words choked as self-hatred flooded my body, “What we do here today will be remembered for generations to come, we fight today not only for ourselves, but all who we know. All our mates and family who live back home!” A faint cheer followed my speech as I steadied myself for what was to come. “We charge in 5 minutes. We charge not only for our freedom but for the freedom of our country. For the freedom of the world!” Spit filled the air from the cheer which erupted from my unit this time. A unity formed over the men, a cold malevolent sweat captured me. Who was I to send these boys to their death? A resolve set inside me, I would fight alongside my men, their lives are worth the same as mine. 04:00 “THIS IS IT MEN! WE FIGHT FOR THE WORLD!” I screamed as I led the charge. Vaulting out of the trench I saw no man’s land clearly for the first time. Death was everywhere, flies swarming the pools of blood. The land so barren of life no greenery was seen. A cold resolution set over me, it was the Germans fault, they caused

“GAS! Gas! Quickly men!” I remember that day like it was yesterday. The new recruits were training and were trembling in their boots. Sergeant Williams they called me. I was the officer in charge of B company, preparing them to protect themselves from the mustard gas bombs they would encounter in the trenches. “GAS! Gas! Quickly men!” I would roar like a great lion and they would rush to get their masks on.

After the war was over the family left the internment camp and came home and everything changed. “When we came back after the war it was fall and the house was still ours. The trees on the streets were taller than we remembered, and the cars more run down, and the rosebush our mother had once planted alongside the narrow gravel path they led up to the front steps of our house was no longer there” (Otsuka 106). This describes how during the years they were gone the entire street changed. When the family entered the house it smelled really bad. “We did not care. The paint was peeling away from the walls and the window frames were black with rot. Shreds of lace curtain dangled in front of the soot-covered panes and the floor was littered with

I hope you are not distressed, nor should you worry about my return. This will be my 11th and the final letter I am sending home, my dearest apologies for the lack of letters, the war isn’t the place I thought it would be, the climate and conditions are horrid. The rest was the worst part, having to switch patrol areas to protect the frontline for hours, and then rest for a minimal time. Poor Jimmy died later earlier today, they say it was from diseases and sickness. I’ll need to be careful down in these trenches, fleas, and bugs crawling all over me. The ground is like quicksand, all the missiles, explosions and gunfire have turned the dirt into a sinking pile of mud all over the battlefield. My team, my second family are mostly gone… I don't

turning my head again I saw Simon dive to my aid. He did not utter a

The great man tinkered with his little motor. He worked in an eerie silence. The echoes of metallic tools reverberated through the area. The workshop was very spacious, a large opened room with several cluttered work desk scattered about the area. Loose pages littered the tile floor, stretching from wall to wall; illustrated with the man's genius rantings.

survive them.Most of the time in a critical situation, the first thing that comes to mind is

I was assigned my first mission, I was transported to the German army I have waited for this moment; for my line of duty that I would be apart in. Everyone was in a complete panic; all over the news was constant reminders that Austria army has declared war against Serbia. I knew that it wasn't going to end well, then again, doesn't war never end well? Bloodshed, men dying. Bombs. It was going to be complete chaos. Chaos, chaos, chaos. The thing that never ends. Everyone always getting their underwear tied in knots; because of something someone didn't like; or got accused of, and is determined to prove that it wasn't them who did it and decided to point their finger and get another country of billions of people. Now, everyone in every once

Hello, my name is George Alexander Robertson, and today will be talking to you about my life before, during and after Gallipoli. I was born on the 3rd of January 1897 in Tocumwal, New South Wales. I served with the first Australian imperial force and I fought in Gallipoli in World war one. I have won three awards for my services – 1914-15 star, British war medallion and the victory medallion. (Gould, 2010)

“Now I stand by my brother’s grave who I killed just because of war. This war has changed me, made me into a monster, a person that kills people. But now that I killed my brother its like I am being tortured repeatedly with guilt. Sometimes I say to myself, what’s the point of war if we are trying to get peace when there is no one left to have it. When I joined the army, it was to protect my country, but it changed to protect my country and kill whoever gets in the way. I wish war never existed and any fight would be resolved within a debate or something professional. Even though I try to forget this I can’t since I felt the pain of others of the lives I ruined. I don’t know what to do now, should I go home and tell my family how I monstrously