tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post4471978858826361878..comments2023-09-20T03:25:12.094-07:00Comments on SOCIAL STUDIES ... Whatcha Thinkin?: Letters and Interviews from the Front 2013Thielmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15907258798180934257noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-9891971677282941662014-04-08T11:38:35.362-07:002014-04-08T11:38:35.362-07:00Dear Nancy,
This is hell. I have been cold and t...Dear Nancy,<br /><br /> This is hell. I have been cold and tired for days and days. The trenches reek of rotting bodies and I haven’t slept in weeks. I’m usually starving because there is a lot of men and not a lot of food. I have been in pain many times. I want to die, or just come home. The woman here seem sad just like every other man here. All the woman just seen dying men all day and night, they help, as nurses, injured and dying men. I couldn’t imagine doing that everyday. But if were talking about what I could imagine I couldn’t imagine living in these awful trenches watching my mates getting slaughtered everyday. I couldn’t imagine killing men day in and day out. But look where I am and what I’m doing. I do have to admit to you though that the medical treatment here isn’t awful, I mean its not the cleanest environment but its still alright. The nurses here are obviously trying there best to make everyone better and ready to get back on the front lines. I miss you so much and cant wait to be home. I hate it here.<br /><br />Yours truly, Craig<br /><br />Tanner Stephenson<br />Tanner Snoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-54266678765063933142013-04-10T03:03:30.783-07:002013-04-10T03:03:30.783-07:00Kneοωorld arе deѕіgned by the gіfted experts in on...Kneοωorld arе deѕіgned by the gіfted experts in one of the lateѕt online games featured on our web sіte.<br />1 The aгe equipt foг all agеs set to trу out.<br /><br /><br />Μу homepage: <a href="http://businessmodelsbeyondprofit.com/groups/why-do-people-unlikely-heroes-of-online-games/" rel="nofollow">game</a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-45492500011758429782013-03-11T09:41:13.538-07:002013-03-11T09:41:13.538-07:00Dear family,
I am writing to you from the front ...Dear family,<br /><br /> I am writing to you from the front lines of Vimy ridge, April 22, 1917. Every day is like surviving in the deepest parts of hell. I have seen the face of death hundreds of times and have overcome it. Conditions of trenches are pore and we have no protection from the rats or from keeping are feet dry, only the dead have the luxury of not worrying or caring about there feet. The commanding officers do not see that they are sending us to are death. Most of them have just as much training as we do but get to choose the fate of are lives. But wen we are tolled to go over we go over we go over praying we can either take over the enemies trench or come back with the rest of the living. I wish that I could be home right now but it seems as if it will be a very long time until then. I just hope that this war will end, and that I will still look as you all remember me. <br /><br />Yours dearest, <br />Sergeant Robert James Wood <br />38th battalion <br />eric wood 95noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-74104990230723130392013-03-09T04:35:59.564-08:002013-03-09T04:35:59.564-08:00Fantastic goods from you, man. I have understand y...Fantastic goods from you, man. I have understand your stuff previous to and <br />you're just too excellent. I actually like what you have acquired here, certainly like what you are stating and the way in which you say it. You make it enjoyable and you still take care of to keep it sensible. I can not wait to read far more from you. This is actually a terrific website.<br /><br />Visit my webpage; <a href="http://beautyandmac.blogspot.com/2013/01/chanel-rouge-coco-shine-447-en-vogue.html" rel="nofollow">acheter followers twitter</a>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-83956880273235959442013-03-06T21:01:50.274-08:002013-03-06T21:01:50.274-08:00Dear Mother and Father,
I want to inform you that...Dear Mother and Father,<br /><br />I want to inform you that the way things have been going Christmas is not an option for me this year. Sadly it also isn't an option for Ben either, for Ben led one of the waves moving toward the Germans in the Battle of the Somme and did not make it because of the new technologies the Germans have aquired in the form of machine guns. Honestly jealousy crashed over me at the moment. Ben is now onto a better place. Me, I'm still recovering from wounds from this what seemed endless battle. In the trenches it was cold and wet, but the only place to survive. I recieved a bullet wound in the arm close to the end of the battle, the front line is a terrifying place to be. The only reason I do it is in hopes that one day this will al be over and I can come back home to you. Luckily the medical here is quick to respond. I was treated well and fast, the bullet was removed from my arm and disinfected in no time. I hope i can see you soon.<br /><br />Sincerely, your son, Jack<br /><br />Myles K. Block BAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-90264461956872674112013-02-24T22:01:07.681-08:002013-02-24T22:01:07.681-08:00Dear Mother,
As hard as it is for me to write th...Dear Mother,<br /> <br />As hard as it is for me to write this, it will be harder to read. John was shot today on his first day in the front lines. He died living his dream, even though his dream took place in a rat filled trench with gun fire all around. There are machine guns constantly firing and grenades being thrown from the front lines. It is a gong show when our rivaly gets in there, with stabbing and punches flying everywhere, many deaths occur. I have been in the hospitol that was set up here where the female nurses run around everywhere helping as many as they can. There are up to 1000 injured men in these huts that we call a hospitol, the nurses are even scared, though they push through and help out a great deal. My wound has healed up enough for me to go back into battle tomorrow, ill be in the trenches for a long time but I am ready to fight for my country. Many men are scared for their lives but after seeing the things I have seen, I have lost emotion and feel fearless. I have seen many men die from disease due to the lack of sanitation and a few go crazy and even commit suicide. The warfare being used is intense. From rifels to poisonous gases to airplanes flying above, it seems to never end. They are all hitting us hard and taking many men. Our lieutenant is a rough man but he is what gives us the courage to go out there every day and fight as hard as we do. There is a great deal of respect that has grown between all the men out here. We work as a team and fight together. It is crazy to think that all the kind, simple women I know from back home are filling our shoes by doing all the mens work. I wonder how things will change when this war is over. I hope all is well back home, I can't wait to see you when this war is over.<br /><br />Much Love, your son, Jerry xoxoCheyennehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10692911144599080851noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-64251312883861330542013-02-22T20:41:24.478-08:002013-02-22T20:41:24.478-08:00Dear mother:
War has lasted a lot longer than an...Dear mother:<br /> <br />War has lasted a lot longer than anyone has anticipated. The days are long and full of nightmares. We spend long hours in deep, cold trenches, that accumulate so much dead rodents and bodys that the stench is so vile. We have nurses and doctors in the backline, but if your taken out in the front line sit could be hours before your saved, luckily I have been blessed to not been hit. Back at the battle of Ypres the Ger,mans plagued us with chlorine gas so luckily i had a rag I could pee on to use as respiration; many of the fellow men on my platoon died form it. Our weapons are constantly mis-firing and the shells always clog up. I try to stay positive and keep motivated but the constant sound of artillery going off and lack of sleep is really bringing me down. Our trenches are very unhygenic and food and water is scarce. Ive been through many battles and seen lots die that im starting to have flash backs every time i hear a bomb or explosion go off. Thanks too the new inventions such as wireless telegraph we stay updated and focused on our main objective. I'm on a strong platoon and our captain is a strong leader. I hope to come home soon and I promise to bring back a German souvenir. Were all anxious to come home and have a feeling the war will be over soon.<br />Love your son: <br />Private Knudsen<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-82893720039439130102013-02-21T22:15:28.815-08:002013-02-21T22:15:28.815-08:00November 30, 1916
Dear Family,
I was wounded in ...November 30, 1916<br /><br />Dear Family,<br /><br />I was wounded in the last battle that I took part inn. I sustained a shrapnel wound to my arm, and it had to be amputated. From here in the hospital, I can see just how many people are being injured and killed, as there are always people coming and going from here.<br /><br />This war is awful. When I was on the front line, the noise almost never stopped, and when it did, there was an air of unease that washed over us. The rest of the time, it was so noisy. Whether it’s gunfire, artillery bombardment, or the screaming of injured men, it can drive a man insane. I sometimes don’t understand how I managed to stay sane. It was so terribly demoralizing to see a man that you thought was strong break down. So many people are losing faith, believing that this fight is just pointless blood shed. <br /><br />Life in the trenches was terrible. It rained quite often, filling the trench with mud and water and they were also infested with rats. Many men suffered from lice infestations. Some men shaved their heads just to be spared from the lice. Our attacks seem to be for nothing, as we will only gain a short distance at a time, losing almost as many as we kill. As we attacked, we’re lucky if we didn’t get hit by artillery fire, or mowed down by machine gunfire. Even when we got to Hun’s line, we still had to fight for our lives. Our commanders seem to think that we are just tools for them to use in this fight and that we are just disposable. The amount of people that have died is just staggering. <br /><br />I haven’t been told whether or not I will be allowed to return home yet. I am still weak, but I am recovering. From what I have seen, I believe that this war will continue on for along while to come. <br /><br />Love, William<br /><br />Erik S. <br />Block CAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-39459068513079390562013-02-21T09:36:45.178-08:002013-02-21T09:36:45.178-08:00Dearest Clementine,
I know it has been months si...Dearest Clementine,<br /> <br />I know it has been months since I last wrote but we have been constantly moving from place to place. I have found a moment to write to you to keep you from worrying. I keep that photograph you gave me on my last day with you in my right breast pocket right above my heart. When I feel like I am about to go crazy I look at the picture and it reminds me of home. I cannot describe the terrible experience that is war. Bodies are scattered everywhere, and it’s too dangerous to collect the bodies and give them proper burials. We thought that losing my mother was devastating, but compared to war, that was tame. When we first arrived all everyone talked about was how he couldn’t wait to join the front lines. After we experienced the horror that was the front lines, we settled down and understood that war wasn’t a game or a vacation. This is real life and it is very dangerous. I long to talk about the experiences I have witnessed but I do not think I will ever be able to fully share what I have been through. However it is nice to have women helping out in this battle. I am very thankful they do not have to go to the front lines, this would be terrible and cruel. They help bandage and calm down the soldiers. Without them a lot of people would have died, so I am grateful for them being here. I cannot wait to sleep in a bed again. The trenches are treacherous. They are deep, dark, cold, and usually filled with water. The constant sounds of gunfire are always above our heads. You never have a minute of peace to think in your head, which is probably a good thing or I might go crazy. My hands are beginning to freeze from writing this letter so I must cut it short. Give my best to your mother.<br /><br />Love always,<br /> Jonathan <br /><br />Mary Kate Block CAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-36097783508552235562013-02-21T09:17:07.662-08:002013-02-21T09:17:07.662-08:00Mom, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to send any let...Mom, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to send any letters to you lately. We’ve been moving around a lot, and making game plans on how to ambush our enemy. The good news is that I’m still alive, but, I have lost half of my right arm in battle. I have been spending most of my time with the nurses, they’ve been such help to all of us injured soldiers. We we’re attacked at Vimy Ridge this past Sunday. The trenches we hide in are damp, cold, dusty, and usually flooded with water. The time in the war is not what I have planned it would be. It’s awful. Everywhere you look, you see dead bodies surrounding you. Soldiers, the people you have become friends with, die right by your side, and what do we do? We continue on, shooting our guns like the ones we loved have not just died. All you can hear around you is the sound of bullets being shot, boots stomping through the muddy puddles, and bodies hitting the hard ground. There is nothing pleasant about being here, but the thought that we are doing this to fight for our country, and for peace is what keeps me going. I promise mom, I will be home soon. I miss you so much. I will write to you soon, as soon as we get somewhere safe. <br /><br />Love John<br /><br /><br />Izzy Bujasnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-86595743872825572272013-02-20T12:20:05.430-08:002013-02-20T12:20:05.430-08:00Dear Mom and Dad,
I would first like to apologiz...Dear Mom and Dad,<br /><br /> I would first like to apologize for taking quite some time to write back to your previous letter, I have been having a hard time finding peace and quiet. <br />This war has turned out completely different than what I expected; it is living hell. The trenches are about two feet wide and six feet deep. Over here, when it rains, the bottom of the trenches turn to mud, causing some men’s boots to fall right off their feet. The trenches also offer barely any protection, which causes many fatalities when we try to shoot at others. Loud explosions make it almost impossible go get sleep and just when it gets quiet, a rat will run across your body. When we try to get rid of the rats, they keep coming back! <br /> Last Friday, I was shot in the left leg and I have been wounded in the hospital since. The hospital I am staying at receives tens of people each day, sometimes hundreds! The hospitals here are not ideal, but they are better than crawling through the mud in the trenches. The nurse who looks after me is very nice; I was actually surprised as to how many women there are here. Women don’t fight in the front lines but they do other things like farming and nursing. The Germans have a gas that is very deadly and kills a lot of soldiers but thanks to the gas masks we received we have a better chance of surviving gas attacks. There are also tanks and planes mounted with guns. Because of all of this technology killing people has become a lot easier. I know that as a kid you said killing people was bad, but now that I’m killing people to stand up for my country, I see it as a good thing. One thing I have noticed is that all the Canadian troops I talk to seem so confident and brave, which is probably a good thing for our troops. <br /> Seeing all the posters at home and waiting for the next letter from me must be tough, but don’t worry, I am doing fine. Even though I say don’t worry, I know you are still worrying. Nothing gets by me… <br /> I hope to see you soon and I will write when I get the time. <br /> Love you. <br /><br /> Josh Rockwell<br />Josh Rnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-82696111658455218612013-02-20T12:02:37.981-08:002013-02-20T12:02:37.981-08:00
June 4th 1917
Dear Mom and Dad
I know you must...<br />June 4th 1917<br />Dear Mom and Dad <br /><br /> I know you must be very worried about me, thankfully I am all right. The Battle at Vimy Ridge was gruesome but victorious! Though I left the battlefield with a busted up shoulder from a gunshot. So please mind my writing. Looking around at all our troops we are as strong as ever. Despite the living conditions, it’s been raining heavy non-stop switch makes the trenches cold, damp and unbelievably muddy. Looking around there is no green grass or blue sky. I’ve seemed to be surrounded by rat and bodies of fallen soldiers and friends that I have made here. <br /> Anyways my nurse said I should recover fast and be back in shape in no time. These doctors and nurses seem to be working just as strong and hard as we are. Being in medical treatment my nurse told me that the women are becoming more apart of the war! Of course not on the battlefield, but being nurses and replacing men in banks, offices and at farms, amazing I would think. <br /> So far I have missed you guys and the rest of the family so terribly much. Not to worry though, I WILL be home soon!<br /><br />Love Always,<br />Sam <br />trezleyJnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-15271513031336365812013-02-20T12:02:20.842-08:002013-02-20T12:02:20.842-08:00Dear friends,
The war is nothing like any of us co...Dear friends,<br />The war is nothing like any of us could have possibly imagined. The air smells of dried blood and rotting corpses. Life in the trenches is unbearable. Sleep comes rarely. The sound of guns blazing never seems to end. Rations are low and all the men are getting wild eyed. Our platoon commander was killed by a gunshot to the chest; he died about two weeks ago. We now have a new commander. He is young and as scared as the rest of us. He has proved to be very unhelpful in battle, and not much of a commander. Six weeks ago I took a shot to the shoulder. The doctor said it barely missed a main artery; I was lucky. The nurse was was kind with a sweet face that reminded me of my Jenny back home. She would talk to me as she cleaned my wound. We discussed her life back home. She had a husband who was a soldier that died just over a year ago. She said though there were very few things about the war that she enjoyed, the fact that she was treated as an equal was a nice change. She said she now had the right to vote, her sisters back home now worked outside of their home, she learned things about the human anatomy as the doctors worked, and she even found the men here appreciated her for her work. I had never even considered any of these things that I took for granted. I wondered how Jenny felt. She seemed to be the only good thing in the hospital. The sight of defaced men, and open flesh was enough to make me lost my breakfast. Doctors rarely washed there hands as they went from patient to patient. Many of the men died from infection. I couldn't seem to think which was worse, the hospital or the trenches. After a week I was back on my feet and we were sent back to the trenches. I made up my mind; the trenches were worse. Yesterday we were gassed and told to put on our masks. One boy, had panicked when the lenses of his were cracked and took off his mask. The poor chap didn't stand a chance. I sit here as the guns blaze above me. I think of home, I think of friends, and I think of Jenny.<br />Miss you all<br />J.J. Jackson (A. Bowness)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-47497291495736738012013-02-20T12:00:08.987-08:002013-02-20T12:00:08.987-08:00Dear Mother,
The hospitals are always busy, so t...Dear Mother, <br /> The hospitals are always busy, so this is the first time I’ve had a chance to write in a while. We are set up not far from the front lines, and we can hear the war constantly. Artillery fire, bombs and the rat-a-tat-tat of machines guns are just some of the noises that assault us. But what are worse are the moans of the wounded men. Their injuries are like nothing I’ve ever seen. Whole limbs are blown off when a shell lands. And the ones who get back here are the lucky ones. Most are just left in no-mans land, shot down as they charge, sometimes right into the fire of a machine gun. Those things are horrible! What kind of fair chance is there when one man can take down hundreds without ever coming face-to-face? We do all we can here but it is often not enough. And it is not just the enemy that is killing these brave soldiers. Many who come here have feet that are frozen and rotting from being in the trenches, and in these close conditions dysentery takes many. But hope is not lost! Our Canadian soldiers have had several victories, even in the face of poisonous gas. They remain steadfast, and can still joke with me as I tend them. We have yet to have a Canadian commander, but the British treat us nicely. They are grateful, I think, for our help. <br /> I’ve been meaning to tell you, I saw a plane! It was just passing through, heading to some other battle, but it was a glorious sight to see. It had two wings, right on top of each other, and made a buzz, like and over-sized wasp. I wish you and my brothers could have seen it. How is home? I trust you are not starving yourselves for our sake. If one of the boys is thinking of signing up, please don’t let them. War is not what the posters describe. Men are murdered by the thousand! I don’t want Tommy or Ben to become another shapeless mass on the field, rotting slowly into the ground. Or worse, a cripple in here! Tell them it would be much more useful if they worked in the factories, making much needed supplies, or putting their farming talents to use. <br /> I’ve been thinking, Mother, when I come home I don’t wasn’t to marry. I like this work, helping people. I feel like I am an important person here, making a difference. When I come home, I want to keep working. I know Father would turn in his grave, but things are changing. Many women that I’ve met are talking of taking up their own lives when they get back. I don’t think I will be a nurse, though. I have seen enough of bloody wounds and scarred flesh. Maybe I could work in a factory. I don’t know how much longer this war will last, but I am going to stay to the end. Our soldiers need me.<br /> Speaking of which, I must go. Another small skirmish has just ended and I am sorely needed. I miss and love you all. Stay warm and stay safe.<br />Love, Mary<br /><br /><br />Pippa Roots<br />Block C<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-69562715912665001252013-02-20T11:57:12.300-08:002013-02-20T11:57:12.300-08:00Chance Lewis
September 10, 1917
Dear Mo...Chance Lewis<br />September 10, 1917<br /><br /> Dear Mother and Father,<br /><br />It's been a long few months here, I'm slowly starting to break down, having to see those bodies everyday, knowing that most of them having loving families waiting for them at home just like me, it brings a sickening feeling over me every time I think of it. Especially the fact that it's going to be my fault some family's will be losing there loved ones. I cant take much more of it here, i just want to home with you guys again, I wish i never would have left. One of the guys here that I had been spending most of my time with here, John, had been killed in battle today, I dragged him back to the trenches so he could rest in peace. I couldn't take the image of every time i look out having to see him there, laying motionless in a pit like all the rest, i know were here fighting for our country, but i don't believe anyone deserves to be here, not just on our side, but there side to, we all deserve to just go home and go see our family's, and not have to live everyday through this disgusting bloodshed. <br /><br />I worry every night, thinking that i'm not going to ever get to see you guys again, that i'm not going to get to see anyone again. Hearing the bombs going off every night is unsettling, i'm more immune to it then i was when i first got here, but no one just gets used to it. The food isn't plentiful, but it gets us through what we need. People are more worried about the cigarettes then they are food anyways. People are always willing to trade some food for a couple of smokes here. <br /><br />I just thought i would write this for you guys to lets you know i'm still doing alright, I love you guys, and hopefully i'll make it home soon, ill send another one in a few weeks to keep you updated. Love you.<br /><br />Love, Chance.Chance Lewisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-43983802303640084862013-02-20T11:54:26.505-08:002013-02-20T11:54:26.505-08:00Dear father,
I have placed this letter in th...Dear father,<br /><br /> I have placed this letter in the book I sent you, hoping it will make it passed the sensors. I know you and mother must be worried and wondering where I am. I have joined the British army to find Brian. No one has yet found out who I really am, I have used your name to get enrolled. The boys call me Glenn Maverick Heywood. I have been asking around if anyone has seen Brian or if they know where he is. I’m starting to wonder if he is even alive. The last person to see him was a man named John who saw him at the Somme River in France. All the tactics they used were not effective when fighting in trenches. People were not covered and were shot down easily. Many soldiers were wounded or killed; my hope is that Brian is still fighting here under the command of Lieutenant-General Byng. Byng is a great general he carefully plans everything. The men here are very brave. We are covered in mud and sweat. We sleep in trenches and have very little food. These trenches smell of rotten bodies and I have recently taken up smoking tobacco to get rid of the smell. Some men’s feet have turned black and I am worried mine will too. I wonder if it was what Brian thought it would be. I will have to go we are on our way to Vimy Ridge. If Brian returns home before you do, please give him my love. <br /><br /> Love, your daughter, Bethany <br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-78130766251954927912013-02-20T11:52:59.677-08:002013-02-20T11:52:59.677-08:00Dear Ma and Pa,
I just got your letter yesterday...Dear Ma and Pa,<br /><br /> I just got your letter yesterday, I’m very happy to hear from ya’ll and I hope my sis is doing great. It has been 5 weeks since I have been in the trenches. I just saw my best friend get his arm and foot blown off by a land mind. After the blast I can’t hear very well and I get massive headaches daily. Every morning since I have been in the trenches I have woken up with a nosebleed I get close to 5 hours of sleep each night. When I was first put in the trenches I got a piece of shrapnel lodged in my left knee. I’ve cried myself to sleep every night since. The general has made us wait on the outside at 5:30 every morning waiting for a hun raid but the huns knew we were waiting so they never showed that early. Ma I knew you were very interested in how woman were involved in the war so I talked to some of the veterans at breakfast and they told me that most of them work as nurses for when people get injured or get very sick. I miss you guys a lot and I hope to back in Canada soon.<br /> Love, your son Fredrick.<br />Tyler Robertsonnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-77253583439054934932013-02-20T11:52:08.707-08:002013-02-20T11:52:08.707-08:00My Darling Kristen,
These past few weeks have ...My Darling Kristen,<br /> <br /> These past few weeks have been the hardest of my life, not from the war, but being away from you. The trenches are in such terrible condition, filled with water up to my knees, my feet sink right into the mud, the cold nights, getting colder because of the constant rain. My hands are constantly frozen, which makes it more difficult to write to you. <br /> After being in the front lines for a couple weeks I finally felt the pain of a bullet surging through my right arm. With all the adrenaline going through my body it didn’t hurt as much as I think it should have, but there is no need to worry, as I am safer now than I was up front. My arm should heal up nicely and quite quickly. The nurses here are so kind, and I’m glad such nice women aren’t sent into the trenches, battles, or up to the front lines. The work they do for us soldiers is incredible, and the things they see, they must be mentally wounded. <br /> Vimy Ridge has been our greatest victory yet, especially for Canada, we really proved ourselves at that battle. It’s disappointing that the way a country must prove its independence is by the slaughter of another country’s man, but nevertheless its happened. We’ve captured more ground, prisoners, and artillery than any previous British offensive, which was really quite exciting for us.<br /> We’ve been asked for volunteers to become pilots, but there aren’t many willing to do so, as much of the pilots before died before they even got the chance to fly the plane in battle. Training is very difficult to get through, and as planes are still quite new to us there are plenty of mechanical failures. They don’t shoot much, mostly photographing and reporting enemy movements.<br /> Seeing all the propaganda back home and waiting for the next letter from me must be tough, but I am doing okay over here, and so are our friends from back home, I’ve managed to get into a battalion with Haydn from down the street he’s also been wounded but he’s managed to make it through and have a good recovery, please let his family know. I know the government is pressuring you to buy victory bonds, and save food with all the propaganda, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you, with your magnificent garden you’ve been working on for the past few years, I know you’ll make it through this tough time.<br /> I send all my love your way, and I’ll see you soon.<br />Love Always,<br />Bob<br /><br />Anna G<br />Anna Gervaisnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-41579594175498941202013-02-20T11:48:04.616-08:002013-02-20T11:48:04.616-08:00Dear Elise,
It’s been six months since I left on ...Dear Elise,<br /><br />It’s been six months since I left on the boat to France. I can’t believe we have been together for 4 years next month. I hope this war is over soon. It is muddy, cold and it has been the same since we arrived. Jonny, Calvin, Eric, and Aaron were all killed in battle, but David is still around with only some minor wounds. I’m just fine, other than being exhausted and hungry all the time I barely have a scratch. Breakfast is tea biscuits and a jam that doesn’t taste how it should; but it is food nonetheless. <br />When we aren’t fighting we have to do chores around the battlefield. We have to Work detail or fetch communication wire for the telephones. It is very scary when shells go off near your post; your ears ring and it is hard to see for a while. It seems to me that the battle is letting up and hopefully I will be home with you and our daughter soon. I hope she is doing well and giggly as ever. I bet you are just as beautiful as when I left. I love you both so much. Kisses and hugs to the both of you. <br /><br />Sincerely with love: Daniel xoxo<br /><br />Shanna Walton<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-55490322910674709472013-02-20T11:43:15.173-08:002013-02-20T11:43:15.173-08:00My dearest Marie,
War is nothing like I could ha...My dearest Marie,<br /><br /> War is nothing like I could have imagined. All the glory and bravery they so greatly promised me has yet to be true. I have not entered my first battle yet, my battalion has been ordered to maintain a trench about several miles away from Paris. The cold, muddy interior is nothing like our home back in Montreal, and with every day that passes I miss it more. The other soldiers like to keep there spirits up by playing cards and telling stories, but these serve as only novelties for nothing can take my mind away from you. Some of the soldiers in my battalion have seen worse battles before my arrival. A few have terrible episodes of uncontrollable fear and panic. I do not know what happens to them when they get that glazed look in their eyes, but I do hope that it does not happen to me. Remember Johnny Stuart from down the road? Our paths have crossed here overseas. Strange isn’t it? Go across the world into hell on earth, to be reunited neighbor. Only he isn’t like before. Johnny lost his right arm in a gruesome battle. I can’t help but feel sorry for him, even though he seems to be coping quite well. It is night here, but no one gets much sleep. Between the impending threat of the Germans, and my heart that aches for Canada, I don’t sleep much. So far my heart is the only thing that aches, for I have not been wounded. I hope by saying that I have not cursed myself, but if I have the hospitals seem to be fixing up the other boys’ alright. They return after only a few weeks, more if it was critical. Many women have come over to work as nurses but I am glad you are home. War is no place for a woman like you. Me however, well I’m going to be your brave soldier. The Canadian troops have already had a great accomplishment in a battle that took place on Vimy Ridge, as I’m sure you already know. I hope the excitement radiates to our town, it could use some uplifting. Since the war started, you can feel the dreariness every where you go. You feel almost guilty walking down the streets, knowing that you are here while they are there. That was one of the reasons I enlisted remember? Please don’t let the dread weary your heart, the war will be over soon. I hope this letter reaches you, I yearn to hear from you. If I could just hear the sound of your voice, it might help me get through this easier. But I keep telling myself that I will return to Canada soon, and I am starting to believe it. Think of me often love, tell my family I miss them. Hope to hear from you soon<br /><br />Love always, Jack<br />Kristen YKristen Yawneynoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-1630150181231944212013-02-20T11:37:32.257-08:002013-02-20T11:37:32.257-08:00Dear mother
I have been sent to the trenches toda...Dear mother<br /><br />I have been sent to the trenches today, the guys say that you must be very aware. The sun hasn’t shone in three days and all I’ve seen is the rain and the dark. all I can hear is guns and rain, I can no longer hear what people say, everything just goes by in a blur mixed by misery and discomfort. I long for your homemade bread and those wonderful dinners you make. One night I dreamt that I was in the kitchen, you were crying, I tried to reach out and let you know it was ok but my hand passed right through you. It was then that you got up, dressed in all black, and with dad, went to the funeral home. I think it was then that I realized that I was dead and you were going to find out about my very own funeral. I woke then I started to cry. I couldn’t help myself. I kept seeing your tear-ridden face and wondering if I had seen the future. I just want to let you know how much I love you, all of you, and if I die out here I want you to know that I am willing to die to make sure that you are all ok, to make sure that my country and all the loved ones in it are safe and free. With any luck this war will end soon, however even if it does I know the scar it leaves will remain for many generations. I pray that they learn from our mistakes so that no one loses sons, fathers, brothers or friends again. I hope to see you soon.<br /><br />Your son,<br /> Joshua<br />Erin YAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-84765424695759795772013-02-20T11:34:54.184-08:002013-02-20T11:34:54.184-08:00Dear Mom and Dad,
As I arrived here at war I am...Dear Mom and Dad,<br /> <br /> As I arrived here at war I am rudely awaken by terrifying gun shots and the realization of how horrible war is. It is a lot different than I thought it was going to be, worse than I thought. I’m sorry it has taken me awhile to write back home I am going through the drills with the rest of the men. I sit in a mud and water filled trench waiting to be attacked, I haven’t been injured yet thankfully. Over half of the men that go out to no man’s land never return. My partner that sits with me in the trenches has been hurt 3 time’s, the doctors and nurses treat people well here. You are sent back out to fight in a very short time though. Piles of dead bodies covered in mud lay scattered in sight, it’s hard to see everyone being put through this. Many of the men out here have gone crazy. Listening to the loud fires of many guns begin to get to you after awhile. It is horrible out here and hard to handle. Many of the things I have seen will stay in my mind for the rest of my life. I am very proud to be fighting for my country and I am happy to say that we are winning this battle. I will try to write more often. Say a big hello to everyone back home for me. Talk to you soon.<br /><br />Love, Your Son.<br /><br />Melanie A<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-91295769365157221572013-02-20T11:30:41.307-08:002013-02-20T11:30:41.307-08:00To my love,
It has been many weeks since I have b...To my love,<br /><br />It has been many weeks since I have been able to right to you. I miss you dearly, and every day my heart aches more for you. When I first signed up I was excited for all the things in my horizon. I now realize how stupid I was for being so excited. I wish only that I could go back and tell my self to run, run far away when the time came to leave. As I think back to my time on the battlefield the horrible sights I’ve seen flash before my eyes. I good man I met was blown to nothing more than a cloud of dust right before my eyes. Just days after that a bomb was dropped beside me and I shouldn’t have made it out but I am so thankful that I did. Some days the mud is think and caked so heavily on your body that it could deflect a bullet. It doesn’t seem like real life, and I wish so deeply that I could blink and wake up with you in our home again.<br /><br />Until then, yours truly,<br />Mike <br />Emily Snoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-74097288814804554902013-02-20T11:25:17.537-08:002013-02-20T11:25:17.537-08:00My dearest Clara
It seems like ages since I have...My dearest Clara <br /><br />It seems like ages since I have last seen you. Everything seems so dark without you in my life. <br />Everything here seems so empty. There is nothing I can do anymore to seem like there is any faith in <br />life. It never even seems like there is any sun here anymore. Everyone here has been doing best they <br />can to be happy. Where we stay it is cold and stinks like skunk in the summer back in Saskatchewan. <br />There is so many bodies everywhere, there is nothing much I can do to make things feel like home <br />again. Every once in a while we go through towns helping people as much as we can. Many children are left alone, no one in their life anymore to take care of them. Some of the bright side of things, with the wages I have been getting I can get a pack of smokes and some decent food in me; guess the farm is doing good back home. Always makes me happy to think that is true. Tomorrow we are going to go to the front lines, since so many people have been losing their lives. I have never been so scared in my life. It’s a good thing that everything seems so numb. If you don’t block things out, you slowly go crazy. They have been calling it ‘bomb shock’; I am scared I might be losing myself too lately. Every time someone gets hurt, they come back from that hospital never looking and acting the same as they were before. The only thing that makes me happy, to stay strong; I might get to see you soon. I want you to stay strong also. There is a huge possibility tomorrow I might not be writing again. Half of the soldiers that go out on that field never come back. No one was ready for this. All this training we went through, isn’t worth shit when it comes down to it. So this might be my last letter to you. I just wanted you to know that I love you more than anything in the world. I want you to love again like you love me. I have saved some money up so everyone back home can be good for the winter. Tell mother and the boys that I love them. Never forget that. <br /><br />Darius <br /><br />Courtney WAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6285786984500036499.post-26361707589677642342013-02-20T11:24:10.173-08:002013-02-20T11:24:10.173-08:00Vimy Ridge April 8th
Private 1st class Jack McDonn...Vimy Ridge April 8th<br />Private 1st class Jack McDonnell <br />British Mediterranean expeditionary force <br />Royal Newfoundland Regiment<br />To: Robert Borden Canadian Prime Minister 24 Sussex drive<br /><br />Dear mister Prime Minister:<br />I may get into trouble for my criticism, however I feel an unbiased opinion is necessary our rifles, jam constantly whenever they touch water or mud. Food is rare, and when we receive food its poor and often contaminated. We use bayonets that get stuck instead of shovels that serve multiple purposes. Our wartime strategy is awful “ stupidity is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results” maybe that will be a famous quote someday. We need planned attacks like blowing up their trenches by digging under them, artillery, air support, tanks, and then sending men over the top. Hopefully this is planned for tomorrow’s big push on the Jerries’ includes some brains over Braun. <br />Yours truly, Pvt. 1st class Jack McDonnell<br />Travis Aucoinnoreply@blogger.com