Memoirs from the trenches
Dear Mom, April 16, 1919
It’s cold. My feet are wet and everywhere I turn I see rats. Remember how excited and happy I was to enter into this war? Well, that changed once I stepped foot on these grounds. Remember when I kissed Angela on the forehead right before I left and I said, “I’ll be home soon to kiss you again.” Well, I think that was our last kiss. Remember how I said everything will be alright and I’ll be perfectly fine.” Well, I regret saying that. Remember how I said. “Its only a summer war mom. No need to be so worried. I’ll be back, right before Christmas eve.” Well, that turned into a lie. It’s disgusting. There’s not much to eat around here, so I eat lice and the rats that I can find. I haven’t taken a shower in over two weeks. I wish I was home right now wrapped up in that warm blanket you made me. These trenches they have us in are so small. It seems like everything around me is crammed up. Maybe it’s just me. You know how claustrophobic I get sometimes. It’s horrible here. Every day, every hour, one of the friends I had made here at this war is gone. Their bodies, lifeless and cold on these floors. No one cares to pick them up and move them. So they just lie there. As I walk past them I look at their faces. Roger Linopsy. That’s the last body I saw before I wrote this letter to you. Two kids and a wife back home. Well, he no longer has a home. He’s in heaven where the rest of my 184 friends I’ve made in this war are. Yes im keeping track. Every name, it’s written down on these few papers I have, because if I ever get out of this brutal war I want to tell their families myself that they passed on to a better life than what they were living. No family member deserves to hear that their loved one has passed away from someone that barely knew them. As I look around I see smoke coming from everywhere. I hear gun fires coming from everywhere. Yelling, screaming, and cries for help
It’s cold. My feet are wet and everywhere I turn I see rats. Remember how excited and happy I was to enter into this war? Well, that changed once I stepped foot on these grounds. Remember when I kissed Angela on the forehead right before I left and I said, “I’ll be home soon to kiss you again.” Well, I think that was our last kiss. Remember how I said everything will be alright and I’ll be perfectly fine.” Well, I regret saying that. Remember how I said. “Its only a summer war mom. No need to be so worried. I’ll be back, right before Christmas eve.” Well, that turned into a lie. It’s disgusting. There’s not much to eat around here, so I eat lice and the rats that I can find. I haven’t taken a shower in over two weeks. I wish I was home right now wrapped up in that warm blanket you made me. These trenches they have us in are so small. It seems like everything around me is crammed up. Maybe it’s just me. You know how claustrophobic I get sometimes. It’s horrible here. Every day, every hour, one of the friends I had made here at this war is gone. Their bodies, lifeless and cold on these floors. No one cares to pick them up and move them. So they just lie there. As I walk past them I look at their faces. Roger Linopsy. That’s the last body I saw before I wrote this letter to you. Two kids and a wife back home. Well, he no longer has a home. He’s in heaven where the rest of my 184 friends I’ve made in this war are. Yes im keeping track. Every name, it’s written down on these few papers I have, because if I ever get out of this brutal war I want to tell their families myself that they passed on to a better life than what they were living. No family member deserves to hear that their loved one has passed away from someone that barely knew them. As I look around I see smoke coming from everywhere. I hear gun fires coming from everywhere. Yelling, screaming, and cries for help