Ww1 Diary Entry

Dear Mother, It’s been a long time since I had the opportunity to sit down and write you a letter. I miss you and father a lot. I am overjoyed to be writing this letter to you. The mood here is one of jubilation. Our assault on Vimy Ridge began at 5:30 am on Easter Monday, eight days ago. We lost a lot of good boys but I am so very pleased to inform you that the Canucks got the job done! What the French couldn’t do for two years and the Brits too we, Byng’s Boys did in three days. I was assigned to the front line in the trenches as part of the 7th Canadian Infantry Brigade attached to the 4th Canadian Division. This is actually the first time all four divisions got to work together as a unified Canadian Corps. They

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 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.

Right now I’m in these trenches writing a heart-filled letter for y’all. But these unbearable conditions have been unsettling to me. Everytime I want to get away from the gruesome war, I think about you. The shots of the machine guns, getting exposed to mustard gas, and having to see my fellow soldiers having to deal with trench foot, all makes me feel hopeless of me staying alive. All day and night, we had to be on the lookout. Planes from the sky makes us vulnerable for air attacks. All aside from all of those problems, the one main goal is to one day find my horse Joey. Maybe both of us will somehow meet me once again during or after the war. I’m very sorry to you guys if I don’t make it home alive, but I’m going to make a big promise, never in a day or night, will I forget about you guys.

We may be able to snatch a few hours if we are not on watch or fighting at the front. The constant itching from intruding lice and fleas makes it hard to sleep soundly in our makeshift beds even though we are exhausted. The lice come from the rats that live off rotting human flesh, making them as large as cats. There is an awful stench that comes from the old flesh of dead bodies, only partially buried. With no latrines, the smell of excrement is overwhelming, as we can’t leave our dugout. I am afraid. I feel compelled to write tonight. I have many questions that I am asking myself. “What is to become of me?” “Will Father and Mother be able to run the whole farm alone?” “Will Dan ever be called up when he is of age, to go to war and face the misery I have gone through?” What really worries me most, is the command from our officers to go over the top again for an advancement tomorrow morning at 8:00. “Will I return?” All I do know, is that I fought the hardest I could and have given my all for my country. I hope this war ends

How´s Mama? I heard she's up working in the factories, building some bombers. Say, if she's having trouble coping with the hard work that’s involved in the factories, tell her that what she’s making helps a lot in this war. Same goes for Mary. Just to clear things up, just say hello to everyone for me, even the neighbors. Though I unfortunately heard about the Ms. Akiyama who had to go away, but it’s for the better, I guess.

The boys and I are going away together for a while, we’re going to guard St Port Moresby. We’ve been told that we can bring our tennis rackets, cameras and all sorts of things. We are excited about going away, it gives us a chance to travel and see new places, which is why I joined the army.

Hi Mom! Hope you're doing well. I'm sorry that I haven't been writing to you in a while, things have just been pretty hectic here. None of us have been getting any sleep around here because we are all stuck in these trenches and are always on guard. Every morning, we'd get up and look around. We always have to stay in the trenches unless our "leader" yelled "Over the top", which means the call to attack.

This is Luigi writing to you, and I gravely missed you, and I long for you even though I just arrived here. Currently, I am in Northeastern France (the Aisne-Marne Sector) near the towns of Belleau Wood and Chateau-Thierry near the Marne River. Specifically, I am in a waterlogged, rat infested trench. Officially, I am fighting in the Battle of Belleau Wood, and I am a Private in the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment (Marines) lead by Captain Lloyd Williams. This captain will go down into history, he is an exceedingly influential leader. When we saw the French Soldiers retreating and advising us to retreat, he retorted, “Retreat, hell! We just got here!” (on June 2nd). Consequently, I am one of the people in combat, which is why I am required to be present

It has been difficult surviving out here in this savage wasteland. Occasionally, at night the earth shakes with loud booms some of the men have been getting shell shock which makes them be in some sort of trance. There also has been huge disgusting rats and lice around the trenches. I once saw one of the humongous

This all started after my dad’s funeral, I was about to leave the gloomy cemetery when I was told by this crazy nut job, that grabbed me and told me that I was going to die. If I don’t stay low for the next 365 days of my life, I thought he was crazy a week ago, but I’m starting to believe him. So far my farther has died somehow and now people after, my life is so hard as I’m still as I’m devastated but I have to watch my back

Although it’s been nearly a year since I’ve last visited home, the fight continues to rage on. Your care package with all the goods, including the fresh pair of socks, was very nice. I saw a fellow soldier in my unit die from trench foot about a fortnight ago. It was terrifying to witness, as his toes were all permanently stuck together, but I stay out of the poor conditions of the trenches as much as a can. Another surprising event that occurred was when I was dozing off. I realized there were rats in my blanket with me. Disgusted, I quickly jumped up and tried kicking them around, but they got away.

I do hope that you get on all right getting your rations. I know how tight food is at the moment. I’m extremely sorry I can’t come, but because this is the Blitz, the army is just getting tighter with restrictions and so they are not giving men their leave. I have tried and tried and tried but to no prevail. I have not been given any leave yet.

It was a quiet, cold Tuesday night, deep in British territory. I was with my Italian squadron, Cani da Guerra; our objective was to take out the front line of enemy British soldiers. My best friend and I were on recon, trying to spot enemy movement. The rest of my squadron was sleeping in cold, dark trenches lined with barbed wire. They’d recently been filled with poisonous gas, becoming a temporary grave for many British who lay helpless, rotting away. My best friend, Sebastian, was a spotter with me. It was twelve thirty-five, time for my shift to begin while Sebastian was sleeping.