A Letter from the Trenches Dear Mom and Dad, I miss you both so much and I think about you all the time. I hope you both are well. We arrived in Belgium a couple of days ago and I thought I was going to pass out from the smell. Many of the men were sick. To describe the smell would be an impossible task but with the dead bodies rotting in shallow graves and lying out in the open in no mans land, the smell of gunpowder, cigarette smoke, mud, and the gas that lingers for a few days after an attack might give you an idea of how bad it is.
Death was a constant companion to those serving in the line, even when they weren't under attack, many would die of disease. They would have to face body lice, rodents, small amounts of food, and some hated the life in the trenches so much, they would cause self-inflicted wounds so that they could be sent home. Before that though, the first thing a new recruit would be overwhelmed with on the way to the front line would be the smell, the smell of rotting bodies in shallow graves, men who had not washed in weeks, the lasting odour of
All in all he shall be missed by all of us and we will remember him as the brainless stereotypical blue-collar who was apparently eaten by a clam. Here’s a quote I thought of that perfectly fits Peter, “Some people love them, most people hate them, everyone groans when they hear them.” The funeral was held at 3:50 pm for about two hours, too long. Here’s an advice to the people “When entering a funeral home, remember to stay alert and always look
No place was safe from artillery fire. With the Turkish army overlooking them, snipers were a constant danger. All men lived with the fear.” Howitzer shells are dropping about 30 yards from us digging great hole where they land, the fumes are suffocating, and the shrapnel is pouring all round us getting chaps everywhere. This is hell waiting here.” Bombs were being thrown from trench to trench constantly; this kept the ANZAC’s on their toes. “They take anything from one to five seconds to explode after landing and if you are close enough the best thing to do is to throw them back.” They were living with terror and horror of fighting off wave after wave of men.
I made him get himself into and out of spins. 17) was a member of the Dixie Electric Power Association Board of Directors for over thirty years. As mentioned earlier, the cost ranges affect every consumable, gamers, etc. Instead of running, they stuck around and helped save the courthouse, or at least mitigate the damage of the fire which doesn just damage the building, but also the records. Even choosing which power up to grab in an arcade style side scroller is a simple, if limited, form of instrumental agency.. His behavior was consistent with the book entitled "The Coming Insurrection".
When I first went to fight, mom I didn’t know what to expect at all. They made it seem like if I defeated the enemy I would be a hero, but no one ever proved how dangerous it really is. I can’t even explain the feeling; you would have to be in my shoes to understand. Most of us definitely learned the horror of trench warfare as we lost the war by being the victims of the first poison gas attack. More than 6000 Canadians lost their lives, I’m just thankful that I am here today to write you this
Because of the injury I will never run, surf, stand for longer than 10 minutes, or hike again. These use to be my favorite things to do but the outcome far outweighs what would of happened if the clerk would of just filed my shot records correctly. Because of this injury it has saved my life a couple of times that I know of. The day I had my hip replacement surgery is the day that my unit left for Iraq. Of course I was upset to not be able to go and be with my brothers and sisters but the injury held me back and that’s life not much I could do about it.
I see men begging to have their feet removed, the flesh on their feet rotting away because of the chronic wet conditions in the trenches. I see the dozens of dead bodies of my fallen brethren accumulating in the trenches because it is too dangerous most times to give them a proper burial. I close my eyes today and still cannot escape the sounds of war–the constant gunfire, tank blasts, and the screams of men. I still see enemy soldiers overtaken by mustard gasses, blood streaming from their eyes and mouths and their desperate gasps for air. I remain inspired by my brothers, for we soldiers are able to keep our spirits high despite these conditions.
That tells you she was so hungry, she would risk going to jail to get food. To add to soup kitchens problems, they’re often unsanitary. Dirt and such could stain the walls and basically anything to be found in the building. It’s a last resort place but in reality, it’s a resort to many. Meals in soup kitchens don’t follow very good health guidelines either.
Others said it was to relieve the tension, and others said it was to ward off a dawn raid. Whatever the reason the first hour of the soldier's day became known, as "The morning hate." It was ear deafening! Today a cloud as dark as death covered all of no man’s land and the body’s laying across the long deserted death ridden field was unrecognisable many soldiers have been put through so much pain maybe not physically but mentally I think of all the family’s whose sons, dads, or husbands have died and I count myself lucky to be writing this diary now! Every day of war is one to forget but you would think you could escape the extreme depression during the night when you’re