Extracts from a Diary of a First World War Soldier.

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Extracts from a Diary of a First World War Soldier

8th January 1915:

        We are dug in now and all along the trenches men are trying to catch any sleep they can under their meagre and inadequate sheets of tarpaulin. The conditions are horrific, there is 3 inches of stagnant water and the trenches are lined with slimy glutinous mud, studded with empty cases. I have had a nasty experience of trench foot lately from standing I the water for hours while on sentry duty. We are totally oblivious now, to all but our basic instincts of finding food, keeping warm and staying alive. It is so hard to sleep at night knowing there is a bloody boche line just 100 yards away and that we may be called up to go over at any time. Why isn’t it over yet, Christmas is past and it hasn’t ended, that’s what we were told I’m sure. Yesterday we lost young Eddie. Oh lord. Why won’t it end? He was so innocent, he didn’t deserve to die. No-one does. Its all madness.

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13th March 1915:

        Some men are giving up hope; its death, day in, day out, all a routine as if we are just pawns in some sick game. Men are weary, blood shod and fatigued; finishing it all in the heat of battle presents itself as an increasingly tempting prospect. But we must keep going and not give in or let madness take hold. Last week we went over. The rattle of machine gun fire is still ringing in my ears. The final count has been made and we lost 86 men in that attack. It all seems so ...

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