Dear Father, Mother, Charlie and Charlotte,
The battles are raging here. It has already been over a year I’ve been away from you. I don’t count the number of times I read your letters to find a bit of buoy up. It’s in your smiles that I find the strength to smile. I never felt a winter being so cold, but one day I’ll come back.
I’ve missed you so much. Life at the trench is hard, but I am happy to represent my nation, and to protect you all making our family respected. Life in the trench wasn’t as easy as I thought. I wake up in morning to the rush of water that passes through the trenches. A daily routine of this life starts in the early morning, one hour before dawn. The orderly officer and the sergeant awake everyone else and we are ordered to climb upon the first step to guard a sawn raid by the enemy, bayonets fixed. I stand behind the sand backs waiting and waiting without a signs of attack. No signs so they would order us to clean our rifles. It wasn’t so much a pleasure, but something that must be done. Officers would then check if we’ve done an excellent job. The orderly officer would repeat that ‘to win this war every thing shall excel. We do not tolerate any mediocre to satisfactory job. We represent our nation men.’
Breakfast is served next. All the men including me feel the hunger at this time. I eat my bread as an ogre would eat it. There was no more humanity at that time. No more education that you gave me. We were are savages. After the infamous breakfast we are assigned daily chores. Examples of them would be the refilling of the sandbags, the repair of the duckboards on the floor of the trench, and the draining of the trench. The rain had fallen for several days, and without any sealing the trench accumulated muddy water making our life ever so miserable. The trench is prone to collapse at any moment, while we’re sleeping or while we’re awake it is always an anxiety.
Front lines were always under watched by snipers like myself, and lookouts during daylight until night fell. I try to snatch a ten-minute nap every time I can. Though even worse than these daily boredoms were our worst enemy. The trench rats are all, but normal rats. Those scoundrels infested us in millions. I don’t mind so much the black rat, we learn how to go with them, but my fear is for the brown rats. Those vermin’s were the size of a cat. No one felt secure around them, we fear them, and we despise them. The enemy was enough for us, but in addition these lowlife threatening rogue gorge themselves on human remains. I still can’t forget the time where one of the men was attacked by one of them. It tried to eat his eyes grotesquely disfiguring him in the face. The man had to go back to the main camp for help, and we still don’t know if he survived the attack or not.
Rats weren’t the only nuisance. We have to adapt ourselves to other parasites such as frogs and lice. Lice were worse. They caused trench fever. It seemed doesn’t sound harmful, but once you experience it you know how serious it is. At the beginning you feel severe pain through your body, and then the high fever. I wasn’t useful; I was only a sick man that they took back to the main camp, but they needed me back and in an instant I was back to the nightmare. The smell of rotting carcasses, dried sweat from us when we didn’t take a bath for several weeks, poison gas, creosol, chloride of lime rotting sandbags, stagnant mud, cigarette smoke and cooking food. Without forgetting the trench foot disease, which makes it difficult to walk.
At night all becomes gloomy. I don’t feel safe, yet it’s the only time I find to write you a latter. I miss you all.
Sincerely, Rodger