Monologue From 'My Dearest Hana'

After days of hell, 6350 soldiers were dead, wounded, or taken prisoner of war. Yet, we had destroyed the bigger German army, holding our ground through chlorine gas and fire. My hand is shaking writing this letter. I don't remember how long ago it was but it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime

Men were living outside for days or weeks on end, with limited shelter from cold, wind, rain and snow in the winter or from the heat and sun in summer. Artillery destroyed the familiar landscape, reducing trees and buildings to desolate rubble and churning up endless mud in some areas. The incredible noise of artillery and machine gun fire, both enemy and friendly, was often incessant. Yet soldiers spent a great deal of time waiting around, and in some quiet sectors there was little real fighting and a kind of informal truce could develop between the two sides. Even in more active parts of the front, battle was rarely continuous and boredom was common among troops, with little of the heroism and excitement many had imagined before the war. The Italian infantry officer Emilio Lussu wrote that life in the trenches was ‘grim and monotonous’ and that ‘if there were no attacks, there was no war, only hard work’.[1] The order to attack – or news of an enemy assault – changed

The grim reality of living in muddy, rat-infested trenches epitomizes the brutal and prolonged nature of this new form of combat. Soldiers endured constant peril from enemy fire, disease, malnutrition, and psychological trauma, locked in a deadly stalemate that exacted a heavy toll on both sides. In the document packet, document 4 talks about how trench warfare got very severe and how the introduction of new machinery changed warfare too when gasses were made and added into the fight. Its effect on the French was a violent nausea and faintness, followed by an utter collapse. It is believed that the Germans, who charged in behind the vapor, met no resistance at all, the French at their front being virtually paralyzed” This shows how trench warfare got extreme and soldiers were left injured in many ways if not

In 1915, the Battle of Ypres affected many Canadian soldiers during the First World War and many endured harsh environments. Using historical perspective allows one to understand and appreciate the sacrifice they made for their country. Men entered the army expecting a quick and exciting adventure, but were quickly shown the brutal truth. They were immediately thrown into the relentless environment that was filled with artillery, blood, and death and they would have to endure for the next five years. Trench warfare was brought up during this time where soldiers practically lived in mud and disease. There were rats and lice, diseases such as trench foot, and unbearable weather; every morning the troops would wake up in the unforgiving trenches

Being in these trenches are not only dark, wet and smelly, but there are rats everywhere. These rats are not normal size they are the size of cats. They feed off of the dead bodies in the trenches. One of my fellow cabin mates is in charge of killing the rats. Yesterday I witnessed a rat eating his way through a human body while that person was still alive. These rats are causing as much stress as the Germans. Rats are not the only pests in the trenches. Another pest is lice. I cannot stop itching my head and body. The lice have affected everyone. I hope this letter finds you well. Please pray for me. Your son

Hello! My name is Mary Yang. I am a senior at Neuqua Valley High School. I have been taking Honors and AP courses throughout my high school career. I will be tutoring Math and French, which I have received high A’s in. I aspire to be an individual who someone can depend on, whether it is for schoolwork or for something personal. I was also recognized as a part of the National Society of High School Scholars. Outside of school, I love to dance, draw, and swim ever since I was

The war has been dragging on for far longer than predicted. Life in the trenches is dreadful. The constant bombardment from the enemy causes many to run and hid, along with many getting what we are calling shellshocked. We use it to describe when one can’t move with no visible injury or when they mentally can’t fight. But the worst has to be the rats, the rats are over the size of our house cats, we call them corpse rats for the soul reason that the rats eat the dead that laid in no man's land. Some of us shoot them for sport. The lice and trench foot is minor. But the Storm Troopers that we’ve been hearing about are fighting, their lightning quick attacks that demolish the line is one thing I don’t want to see. I hope Erik is okay, and well.

I made it through the first wave I am alive, The sights are not so great as you can imagine it is a war after all. I am currently in a trench writing this letter. There is a fat rat right in front of me. I hope I don’t get trench foot because if I do you’ll never see me walk again. All my friends I made are dead I miss them they were the only ones I had left going for me in 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.

The meadow near the Western Front was nothing compared to the vast fields of the prairie back home. There, in what seems like another lifetime, was a harvest full of life, colour, and promise. Here, there was only death and harshness. Trevor, our Commander, had once described the scenery of these fields in France before the chaos. He had said it was filled with little red flowers and high green grass. After three years of fatalities and rain, the scene shifted to represent the misery. There was no colour here. Our uniforms that had once been a deep green were now covered with dried mud. The scene before me was bleak. The sky was gray; as it had been since the first day we made camp in these trenches. The ground was muddy with small pools of

upon the men along side me. Some of the men so I have been told have

“Trenches were relatively new for soldiers arriving on the front & were worse than expected, “Dear diary,

The trenches would smell like blood, gunpowder, and everything that was rotting in there. After the gunshots have stopped, and the air is filled with silence, the remaining soldiers drop onto the dirt ground, realizing they have survived another day. I always get this uneasy feeling, knowing that although I have survived another day, there is much worse to come. Even though I have survived, every shred of my sanity is gone. Before I go into another restless night, I think about my friends who have died for this war, and finally get the chance to mourn about them.

It has been months since I’ve seen you or dear Abigale. The life in these trenches aren’t exactly what I expected it to be. It’s far worse than I would have imagined. Day by day, our men die, holding the same position without advance, poor Joseph, he was shot in the leg after advancing from the front trench. The doctors say he won’t be coming back with two legs, they’ve tried all they could. He’s been in the medical tent for days, all of us sit in the messhall, quite. Nathan disobeyed the order to advance, and he was taken from our squad, we haven’t heard anything about him ever since.

By the time we got to camp we were all out of ammunition, hungry, thirsty and one of the doughboys forgot to let us know he lice so he shared that with us to. That was about a week ago today actually when we got there the French had us taken to the nearest American camp like twenty miles north west. When we got there we were bombarded with questions like where had we come from to people asking us if we are deserters to the cause. Tomorrow, the 30th of August, though my squad and I go back into the war after the commanding officer gave us a few days after our journey. I swear though I will be part of the group to take back that camp. Today is the 5th of September and the trenches here are even worse than where my squad and I were here they are standing on dead bodies of fallen soldiers some people are killing rats for fun. The worse part about it here is at a certain time every day the Germans try to cross No Man’s Land behind the brigade of bombings from air planes and tanks and the poisonous gas of the Germans. I’ll send this letter to you out of here on September 18th. Hello Mr. Bringit, I’m sorry to tell you this but your son has passed the Germans had taken over the camp on the French front and today we had just taken it back and I found this