Explore the First World War website and Canadian Letters from the Front to get a feel for some of the details of the front lines in Europe.
Create an interview between a reporter and a soldier or a fictional letter home from a Canadian Man or women on the front lines. Assume the person has served in the Battles of Ypres, the Somme, Vimy Ridge and Passchendale.
Post your interview or letter on this site under comments (be sure to include your initials at the end so I can give you credit). Your interview or letter should aim to inform the Canadian public at home about and include details about a minimum of 5 of the following:
· trench warfare
· life in the front lines
· the roles of technology in the war
· the quality of military leadership
· morale of Canadian soldiers
· the effectiveness of Canadian troops
· hospitals and medical treatment
· the roles of women in the war
21 comments:
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Dear Mother and Father,
Sorry for the delay since my last letter, but it’s been difficult to find a peaceful moment to write. I’ve been in the hospital for nearly a week since fighting for the Somme. I was sent here only a few months into the fighting with a bullet through my leg. Since then, there have been tens of soldiers admitted every day. From what I’ve managed to catch from my bed, the fighting isn’t to end soon. Another piece of gossip I’ve caught is that the Canadians are to be sent to the front line. A soldier from Montreal, lying in the bed next to me, raves about how his country will win this battle. These Canadians all seem so confident and prideful; probably something our troops need.
The rest I’ve been getting in the hospital is greatly welcomed, and I admit that I’m not anxious to be put back on the front lines. The never-ending noise and falling of comrades has put me on a constant edge. Shells being dropped only meters from our trenches are enough to shake the strongest soldier. Marching up and down a single, rat-infested trench every day made us all fidgety for No Man’s Land. What a foolish feeling that was, because we soon got our wish.
On the first day of battle we lost 58,000 British troops; nearly one third of our fighting force. Commander Haig sent 27 of our divisions to attack and divide the German line into two from Cambrai and Douai. Haig’s cavalry background and leadership gave us great hope going into the attack, as well as our mass supply of artillery. We also had the upper hand against only 16 divisions of the German army. However, our artillery proved faulty and failed to break through the German line. Their soldiers hid in bunkers until we ceased to fire, and came back at us with machine guns. That’s how I got the bullet through my leg and wound up in the hospital.
Remember how cousin Dorothy wanted so badly to contribute to this war? Although I don’t wish it upon her, there are places for women here. The hospitals are overcrowded with wounded men and not enough nurses. They rush back and forth tending to bandages and trying to keep spirits up. Pass the word along at your discretion, and tell the rest of the family that I’m doing fine.
Just writing this letter has greatly tired me, so I’ll end it here. I hope I haven’t worried either of you too much, and I’ll try and write again soon.
With Love,
S.R.
Interviewer: Woah! This trench is massive!
Soldier: Hey! What are you doing here? Can’t you tell this is a hazardous warzone?
Chiou: Oh, hey there! I’m Brighten Chiou, a reporter from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. I’ve been sent across the ocean to get info on the current situation of the Canadian troops in the war. Hundreds of thousands of people at home are at the edge of their seats worrying for their beloved family members. Would you be so kind, great Canadian soldier, to answer a few questions?
Soldier: It better get to my family then.
Chiou: Of course sir.
Soldier: We’re on standby right now, so come on down and take a seat. It’s not a five-star hotel, but at least it’s not wet enough to rot your feet.
Chiou: Thank you.
Molson: The name’s Molson, Max Molson from Prince George, British Columbia.
Choiu: Nice to meet you Mr. Molson. Now to get right into it, what is your daily life like?
Molson: In the trench, it’s almost always the same. Eating, sleeping, being on the lookout, listening to the drone of bombs falling and exploding from afar or a little bit nearer and just getting by. It’s very monotonous.
Chiou: How do you feel about living here? Because you’ve spent a lot of time here, will it be hard to leave. Does it hold some sentimental value?
Molson: Are you crazy? I’d lose a limb to get out of here! If you can’t tell, it stinks in here, there’s little to no sense of hygiene, filthy rats come to visit once in a while and it smells so much like rotting flesh and fuming feces that you could even taste it! On top of that, it’s a little bit hard to walk through the muck and mud that’s so soggy and soft, it makes you sink a quarter foot every time you take a step.
Chiou: Now, what would you say about the battles that you encountered?
Molson: They were gruesome, bloody, and traumatizing. The weapons of those Germans were devastating. I still remember soldiers falling to the ground blinded and coughing blood because of some deadly chlorine gas. I still remember being told that all of my friends, including tens of thousands of Canadian soldiers had been slaughtered and left for dead in No Man’s Land on the very first day in the Somme. I still remember the sound of the killing machine that took them down: RATATATATA.
Chiou: Were there anything about the war that you had high spirits on?
Bless the souls of all the brave men that had fought on the front lines with me, because through our efforts in these battles, we can finally boast about our victories and tremendous amount of courage and strength. Not only have we recovered kilometers of land from those filthy Germans but we also won the very Ridge that no other country could except for us, the Great Canadians! We had captured so many prisoners, artillery and land, that I heard that we were being called the elite fighting force!
Chiou: And finally, is there anything you are thankful for?
Molson: I am thankful that even our enemies are devout Christians. Xmas was the only day that our troops ceased fire, took time to bury the dead, exchanged season’s greetings, and participated in the joint service held by our parson and theirs. I am also very thankful for all the brave ladies that died in service for their countries in order to save our soldiers from sickness and heavy wounds.
Chiou: That is all, thank you very much for your time Mr. Molson. Good luck and goodbye.
Molson: Watch your step.
B.C.
Dear parents:
It’s hard to describe the horrors that have begun here in Ypres. This new type of war as evolved called trench warfare. The trenches are cold and damp; I find it almost impossible to sleep. Rats are everywhere, some the size of cats. On April 22, 1915 the Germans surprised us with something I have never encountered before. I was in the trench when a haze of gas floated over me. I had never felt so much pain to breathe. All around me people started to choke and collapse. It was horrific, the only reason I survived was the rag I had soaked in water and put over my face. Even after the gas the fighting kept on. Being in the front line there were continuous shells hitting the trenches, this put fear into everyone. It was impossible to move to the enemy’s trench. Every time our commander sent out men, they were shot down by artillery. I watched thousands of men die. Our commander did the same thing over and over again sending out men to their death. No matter what we did to protect are forces from the heavy fire, it always failed. Man after man fell. The heavy artillery made it almost impossible to penetrate the Germans. It was as if what we had no impact, this took a huge toll on my morale and everyone else’s as well. I was in constant fear for my life. Deadly snipers were all around. One false move could result in my death. I was in constant mental exhaustion; however some other soldiers totally broke down from the constant horror. During the month that the battle continued, I prayed that I would survive through it. The day that reinforces came was one of the happiest of my life. Even though we had gained no advantage I was overjoyed that I had survived it. Even out of this battle now I cannot get the screams of men out of my head.
M.M
April 27, 1915
Dear Mother,
It’s hard to find the time to write back to you with all that’s been going on around the reserve in the last few weeks. Every day hundreds of soldiers are being brought in for treatment and it’s my duty as a nurse to bring them back to good conditions. I’ve seen more horror in the last few weeks than I have ever imagined I could. Men are brought in to be treated for machine gun wounds and bomb injuries after crossing ‘no man’s land’, trying to reach the German trenches. They talk about weapons that I’ve never even heard of! They say large vehicles called tanks can plow right through a barbed wire fence, and that the guns on the enemy’s side are far more accurate than our Canadian rifles. It’s ridiculous how all these strong, brave men can be killed in vast numbers now. I don’t think any of us expected this number of deaths.
The most difficult thing to deal with is the sickness caused by the gas that the Germans have invented. 5 days ago in Ypres the Germans killed and injured more than 6000 Canadians; and we’re the closest hospital for them to reach. Over the last few days men have been brought in choking and clawing at their throats. The smell of the chlorine in their clothes is enough to make you dizzy.
It seems to me that trench life isn’t much more pleasant than choking on gas. I’ve dealt with 6 men this week who have swollen, black feet caused by the harsh, damp conditions in the trenches. We nicknamed this “trench foot”. Many men come in suffering psychological issues from staying in those mud holes for so long. I hear rumors that the rats living with them are enormous, and curl up with you at night. These rats spread diseases so fast that I can barely keep enough medicine in stock.
Now as bad is it may seem, I believe it’s a good thing that we Canadians got involved in the war. I overheard 2 British soldiers talking of how much trouble they’d be in without our assistance. Our nation is known for being tough because of the harsh conditions of our winters and our farming reputation. Some Canadian troops are doing quite well with their missions and I’m proud to be working alongside my fellow Canadians; even if I am not directly fighting with them.
It is time for me to go to bed now after such a long day. I hope that you and Father are doing well and say hello to my sisters! I expect to be home in just a few short months!
Love to all, Jessica J
My dearest Elizabeth,
My deepest apologies for taking so long to write you. The unending rain here in Passchendaele has made it difficult for the mail service to reach us. Fighting here is miserable. It is like God has picked up the sea and dropped it on our heads. The trenches are full of water and the mud continually gets in our guns. I watched a man just yesterday drown in a pit of mud trying to cross the battle field. I didn’t even know his name, but he wasn’t very old, maybe nineteen. There isn’t much protection for those lower down in command, like myself, from the piercing rain. When we are not fighting we are allowed in to the “saps” which are rooms deep underground. Most are well furnished like the one I am in right now writing to you.
The military tactics used here are obsolete but the generals don’t seem to understand. When the generals send us “over the top” in to “No Man’s Land” we are made to charge forward at the German trenches full of machine guns, a technology far beyond our single round rifles. My fighting companion John Holmes and I always watch each other’s backs. Not that it does much but it makes us feel safer. Because of the mud craters created by enemy shells and the pounding rain, the battle field is covered in Large mud holes. Some get to be thirty metres in diameter. Thanks to these mud holes our movement is quite limited. When we approach the German guns many men are cut down by the rapid fire machinery. One boy named Jonathan, whom I had come to know quite well, took multiple shots to the chest. Ha had lied about his age to get into the army. He was a very brave young man for his age and very friendly too. He personally asked me, that if he should die in battle, to write his parents and tell them that he thought it a great honor to die for his country. The worst part about it was that his dead body fell in a deep pit and his parents will never get to properly bury their son. But not all is bad. It seems as though the officers in command are really that attrition just will not work anymore. Perhaps this will be the last time that a war of attrition will be fought.
I received your letter dated September 6 last week on Tuesday. Thank you very much for sending me your picture. It has given me much hope in the darkest days of this battle. My love, I miss you so very much. Many a night I cannot sleep thinking about you. Often I dream that I am holding you in my arms and I wake up in tears wishing I was with you or you were with me. Not that I would ever wish this horror upon you. There are many women helping the cause though. I have heard rumors of numbers over three thousand. They all work in hospitals or as ambulance drivers but many are still killed or injured by artillery fire, bombs, or poison gas.
Out of the war have come many new technologies. The machine gun is the most commonly used matched closely by the artillery. You may have seen pictures but essentially it’s just a really big gun that shoots one tonne explosives shells. Luckily for us they aren’t very accurate. Also 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 and the war is not like any the world has ever seen before.
Do not worry for me my dear. I will be home soon.
All my love,
Johnathan.
m minard
To my loving Mother,
I’m writing to you now to inform you of our incredible victory at Vimy Ridge. In just four days we were able to force back the German troops and retake a very important position. We Canadians are really showing our metal now. Perhaps those Germans will think twice the next time they see the CEF coming. We trained for months to make sure we were ready for this attack, and the whole time we were training Sappers were digging out underground tunnels so we could get closer to our objective without those Germans knowing.
When it finally came time to attack I knew I was more than prepared. It only took us two hours to capture our first objective, and I’m pretty sure I took out about seven or eight German soldiers myself. After we had taken Hill 145, which is the highest point on the ridge, we had to next take over “the pimple” the last position the Germans held. We started our attack on April 11th and I was so full of adrenaline even a bullet to the shoulder didn’t stop me. Even with a bullet in my shoulder I was able to take out around ten more German soldiers before I had to fall back to seek medical attention. Thankfully I was still full of adrenaline when they tore the bullet out of me and threw a cloth over my wound otherwise it would have been an awful lot more painful. All we could use to get the bullet out was our bare hands and we didn’t have any real bandages so the medic just tore a piece of his uniform off and tied it around me to stop the bleeding then I was sent right back out to the fight. This fight took a while longer than the first, but we definitely pulled through in the end. Sadly, however we did lose many great soldiers during this battle, and I will never forget their bravery, but we made sure they did not die in vain. I have never been so proud to be a Canadian. Hopefully I’ll be home in time for Christmas so I can tell you more about my time here and all the things I’ve seen and done.
I can’t wait to see you all again; I might even bring back a few souvenirs from my travels. For now I must go and have someone tend to my wounds, nothing like a good old battle scar to help tell a story.
With love, T.S
T.S
To my Beloved Family,
I will be on my way home from the battle field. I was hit while on the front lines by a German sniper. He shot me just on my shoulder. Doc said that I’m no use on the battle grounds now. They don’t have the medicine or time to treat me here either. So I’m going to wait till I’m good and healed. Then I’ll come back and help win this war. The battles out here have become more and more intense, more and more people are dying because of the weapons we created. It’s terrifying how good we have become at killing one another.
I’m writing you this from an underground “sap” which is where we sleep and rest. It’s about 30 feet below the trenches and some of the ones can be well furnished. Even though it is far down we can still hear and sometimes even feel the booming from the enemy’s fire. It’s very hard to even get a wink of sleep. And when we are not trying to sleep we are trying to avoid the rats! Everyday hundreds of rats are seen in our trenches and sleeping rooms. And the mud on the battle field is horrible. It sucks you in and sometimes men and horses have even drowned in it. If that’s not enough, the general is having men charge at the enemy’s trench in an attempt to get one man down to take it over. At this time no better idea has come across our path so we continue to charge and continue to lose men to that damned machine gun! Also some men have decided to try and create “bulletproof” armour with sheets of metal bent around the man’s body. All those poor test subjects who were made to go over the top and see if it works. However the overall enthusiasm of the Canadian troops hasn’t wavered for a minute. Everyone was been trying their hardest and making the best use of the weapons we have been given. One particular weapon is the Ross Rifle. I’m sure you’ve heard of this. It is the worst invention man has come up with. It constantly jams causing men to get killed. I’ve have acquired for myself a British Enfield Rifle. It is much better than the Ross Rifle. It doesn’t jam, its better in the mud and I can shoot more Germans with this in less time!
I can’t wait to see all of you again. I’m looking most forward to mothers cooking. And to see my sister and brother again will be a treat. By the time you get this letter I should only be days away.
Hope to see you all soon,
With Love, Micheal
B.A.R
Dear Mother:-
Forgive me for the delay since my last letter. I was entrusted with an important part of the Vimy
Ridge assault and I was determined to not let my Lieutenant down. A small foolish mistake landed me in the hospital, which is where I am writing to you now. I promise you that my injuries are not life threatening. You shall be thrilled to hear that we did indeed succeed! The Canadians lead and won
the Vimy Ridge assault! Lieutenant-General Julian Byng and some of the other soldiers distracted the
Germans while we built secret tunnels. We wanted a victory over the Germans more than anything
after they began bombing us with Chlorine gas. It is dawning on us now how good we’ve become at
murdering our fellow man. The weaponry used is like nothing we’ve seen before, it truly has become
a battle of steel.
It occurred to me mother that you must be curious of how I spend my days on the battlefield.
We are using a new method for this war, we are fighting in trenches. Trench warfare, although
uncomfortable, is a smart enough strategy that allows for some protection for the soldiers. Our goal
is to take over the enemy's trench; however with the invention of the machine gun, and the
continuous shell fire, this is a very difficult task to achieve. Death is all around us, it is something that
we must become accustomed to for the sake of our own sanity and the sanity of others. Rats are the
other thing we must become used to. They live among us, walk over us in our sleep, eat our rotting
corpses, they are the worst of creatures. We fear the rats almost as much as we fear the Germans!
The only useful thing about the rats is that we are positive that they can sense impending shell fire.
We know that when the rats are scattering we must follow them. Rats however are not are only
bothersome pests, lice are also hard to deal with. They stay with us day in and day out, causing us to
constantly itch. Additionally, our men are being infected with what we call 'Trench Fever'. Trench fever
sneaks up on you, it causes severe pain at first followed by high fever. We have had to send many
men away to cure them of the horror that is this disease. I assume being sent away wouldn’t be the worst thing to deal with. Our trenches are very small, cramped, and overcrowded, they are hard to sit in all day. I suppose I could sum up trench life for you by saying that it is filled with disease and pests. Yes life is hard, however worry not mother, my life at war isn't entirely horrendous! Trench life is indeed difficult, nevertheless I enjoy the company of my fellow soldiers. We alone understand the hardships of war, and as a result of this important similarity, we share a special bond.
Alright mother, although it pains me I must say goodbye. I hope to hear from you soon, however I caution you against sending a letter to this address. I greatly doubt that we shall stay here for much longer, but I will send you our next address as soon possible. I promise that I will see you soon with many gifts from around the world!
K.P.
Dear Mother and Father,
I have hoped to get a chance to write home to you all in the fast few days and today was the first. This war is much different than anyone expected. The trenches have made fighting much different and we have had to come up with new ways to get across. The mud is like you’ve never seen before; I can’t wait for the day I can go home and have dry feet! In the trenches we’re constantly wet, drenched in mud or water, they don’t not make for pleasant lives. I can’t wait to come home to all of you.
Bombs were constantly going off; the terrific explosions striking some men deaf, two men were killed in an explosion only ten or so yards away from me! I was thrown back and my left arm was torn apart. I’m writing this from the nearby hospital, the fighting to the east has almost stopped; it’s almost silent at times except for the sound of nurses rushing around the hospital. Don’t worry about me here, my arm is healing well the nurses are wonderful! I never expected so many women to be here in the war helping out but it isn’t uncommon to have a whole hospital full of them. The nurse that was helping me with my arm, whose name I can’t recall, said I should be out of here by next week.
The careful planning of Lieutenant- General Julian Byng brought us to victory! Our bravery, and long hours have paid off! Canadians, my family, have finally taken control of Vimy Ridge. We had sappers build tunnels secretly to move troops closer to the ridge. In less than two hours we had taken control of the first objective and after we captured the highest point of the ridge. Yesterday we finally took control of the last German position!
There is talk around the hospital that some of us will be sent home in the following few weeks, I hope to get another letter written to send to all of you and let you know exactly what will happen. I will send you any changes in address as soon as I learn more, being in the hospital you don’t hear nearly as much as in the front lines. Please say hello to the younger kids and let them know I am doing fine and will be back soon to see them all. Only tell them what you believe they can handle, I do not want them worrying. I love you all and I hope to see you all soon. Hang in there, I miss you all.
A.E.
Dear parents,
This Belgian city is bare, nothing but trench lines, blood and scarce landscape left of it. Ypres isn’t helping us gain what we need from the German’s but were fighting back with what we can. I spend my days stuck in deep, muddy and dark trenches with not only my men but disease carrying oversized rats, shooting when told and praying that I make it through each firing. Our attempts of gaining anything on them have failed us thus far, using our weaker weapons and trenches as protection against them is no match for their new machinery and technology, and it is like nothing we’ve ever seen before. They’re using mind blowing weaponry called machine guns, their men sit them up in big groups on top of flat tripods along the rims of their trenches and a crew directs each fire as they unleash 500 or 600 caliber rounds per minute at us. It’s like seeing slate grey smog all around you, big clouds of shells and bullets in the sky. My troops are dying all around me, the German’s brought their chlorine gas with them and they have let it off all around us many times taking down our soldiers one by one. The gas is giving them a large advantage over us by single handedly choking our men to their deaths, watching the blood rush up from their throats and fall to the ground without being able to take a single breath is horrifying. I’m frightened by the gas, it arises out of nowhere because they’re dropping it on top of us from their planes in the sky every so often before we can manage to destroy it. The gas is a greenish-yellow mustard color and it’s the second most feared color I see out on the battlefield, red comes first.
The mud that I have to fight through every day is a battle on its own, my gear gets caught and pulled in every which way constantly but I always push through it. I think my clothes have started to mold and rot into my skin, there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not drenched and soaked in the horrid smells that come up from the lice infested mud and water that I’m constantly getting dragged through. I’m currently fighting across land, moving to new locations every day, I was south near Hill 60 for a while but the German’s took over most of that ground so we fled more north of it. Watching my men every minute of the day that have been wounded or injured await their deaths on the busy sectors while no rescue is possible sends cold shivers through my bones. Our medical teams are doing what they can for the hurt ones but nobody can risk sending a doctor or nurse out here, they could get captured or killed instantly. The women that we have to look after our men are helping a great amount, they come in from the hospital ships and overseas hospitals onto the battlefield to aid. I have been recently informed that around 1,ooo of our men have been killed and almost 6,000 injured to date, but that number keeps going up drastically, I’m one of the lucky few to make it this far.
All my love,
Jack
B.K
Interviewer: This is Max Johnson, a soldier who bravely fought in The Battle of Vimy Ridge. In case you are not updated with the current events, the main objective of this battle was to recapture Vimy Ridge, which is near the Somme River. We have tried many, many times to recapture the ridge after the Germans took control of it in 1914, but we were always unsuccessful. Obviously, it was a victory for Britain; we recaptured the ridge. What is it that you think made this mission, or battle, so successful?
Max Johnson: Besides our bravery and determination, the recognition should honestly go to Lieutenant-General Julian Byng. His careful and in-depth planning is really what made it worked. Secret tunnels were built. The tactics used in this war were going to be far better than the ones used in the Battle of the Somme! It took a long time for him to perfect his plan, so during that time, we trained a lot. When I look back, it feels strange. I was extremely excited for war, training intensely everyday happily and eagerly. When the war started, it was unbelievably chaotic and frightening. It is amazing how far technology has advanced. The strategic tactics and communication were also better. During this war, we have better artillery, like the box barrage. Poison gas was used; trench warfare, air and naval warfare, tanks, and flame throwers were some of the other advanced military weapons.
Interviewer: I can only imagine! Can you tell us more about trench warfare - the newest and current strategy?
Max Johnson: Trench warfare is certainly a very clever, effective, and defensive strategy, but I must say that the conditions were absolutely horrible. It flooded, rained, and smelled horrible-it was a mixture of pleasant things like our food mixed with poison gas, mud, smoke, and many other unpleasant odours. There were tons of rats, lice; diseases spread very easily. Many dead bodies were in the trenches – some were especially gruesome. I witnessed headless and bloody bodies daily. After the battle, many people required medical treatment. The obvious ones include physical injury from the war, but there were still a lot from the poor living conditions in the trenches. Many people think that war and big battles are all about men, but without women, the hospitals and medical care would have been a lot slower and the service would have been worse. Needless to say, we desperately need more nurses and workers in the hospitals; I strongly encourage more women take up this role.
Interviewer: Yes, despite the victory, we lost many men.
Max Johnson: Yes, the statistics say that there were over 3500 Canadians killed, and far more casualties. It is truly devastating; words cannot express how I feel, but my heart and prayers goes to them and their families.
Interviewer: Yes, devastating is the perfect word to describe it. Thank you, Max Johnson, for taking the time to do this interview. Congratulations, again, for the victory in the Battle of Vimy Ridge.
Max Johnson: Thank you, but it is not just a victory for the battle, but also a victory for Canada. It was absolutely stunning to see what we, the Canadian Expeditionary Force, accomplished – our courage and hard work really did pay off well. This was the first time we got to fight together and our skills and abilities were proven by our swift victory. We took plenty of prisoners and met our goals and objectives quickly; these accomplishments make me proud to be a Canadian and I am excited for future battles in helping Canada and Britain.
Interviewer: Thank you for taking your time to do this interview. Men, we need you; please help and enlist in the war. Women, you are also needed. Whether it is volunteer work, nurses, supporting troops, war production, or the Royal Air Force, your dedication and support is needed. Thank you, Max Johnson.
EL
April 05/1916
Dear People
My first letter home, it has taken me several days to make it to my station, and is probably the last couple of days I will be able to live without fear of getting attacked by German soldiers. We marched through cities of despair and drove through fields of the last good thing left. I have spent my countless days waiting in a trench for enemies. Here in an overcrowded hole that is a foot wide, my days spent here I am assigned tasked. Every day without war I refill sandbags, repair the duckboards, and drain the trenches time to time. Nobody enjoys it here, your days are spent staring at the sky, or maybe writing home and reading letters
Oct 16/ 1917
Dear People
Life for me has not gotten better since the last letter I wrote. First attacked against the Germans in Passchendaele or some may say the third battle of Ypres, it was horrifying. The autumn rainfall has taken a toll on all the troops. Everyone here is tired and cold still fighting during day or night. Bombs going off every night leaving massive craters making it difficult to walk. I believe that the government doesn’t truly care about the war contribution for the weapons we have are terrible. I see my troops out on the battle field scattering for weapons on dead enemies bodies. I don’t blame them for the ROSS riffle always jams up and is unable to fire. Somehow the Germans have invented better weapons, called machine guns; Bergmann MB 15 Na, Bergmann MP18 and the Maschinengewehr.
A couple days later I was shot during the battle of Passchendaele and was shipped out to the hospital in of Norwich. Here it is a lot different style of living but I still do write letters home. I was shot in the right leg, and could barely walk. Still I feel at home and on the front lines for there is mostly Canadians in the hospital injured just like me. Some worst then others, I hope when the war is over we could celebrate together. Not as a team, or as the British Empire, but as one nation.
December 02/17
I have made it back across the ocean to Canada. I have heard stories about explosions in Nova Scotia. Looking for work it much more difficult since women have moved into the job market. Some of them are teachers or working factories for war production.
-AM
My Dear Amelia,
From my last letters, you know that I am still stationed here in Ypres. Words cannot begin to describe the horrors I’ve faced here. The harsh reality of the war is beginning to set in amongst the men, leaving us grim faced and weary. This war is different than wars my grandfather and my father had fought in. For example, yesterday we were forced to fall back after the Germans released a gas made of chlorine which filled our trench. I had managed to get away seeing how my only options were to both stay in the trenches and suffocate or by going into No Man’s Land where we would be fired upon immediately. The men, who had the same instinct to fall back, took to the idea of urinating in spare cloth and using that as a way to fight back while the gas lingered in the air still.
Fighting the war in trenches was not the way I pictured fighting in this war. The trenches are about 2 feet across and about 6 feet high. 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 mud just adds another inconvenience and obstacle in moving up and down the trenches. Also, our trenches do not offer that much protection when it comes to having to shoot at the enemies for they have snipers that can easily take many men out. When the day is done and some of us try to get rest, it is near impossible due to the rats. The rats will scamper over any part of our bodies when we try to sleep. Getting rid of the rats is impossible too for it seems there is always more.
Going over the top of the trenches are the worst. Although I may complain about the trenches at least it offers some sort of protection. When the whistle blows and we have to leave our relative safety of the trenches, my heart gets a feeling of dread. There is a feeling of national pride that soon replaces my dread and I am willing to lay my life on the line for my country, I would rather die than see all the soldiers efforts go to waste. Sometimes, our Sergeant gives us orders that causes many unnecessary deaths all for a few kilometers of land, I swear if there is another war, we better have military strategists with an actual strategy.
A lot of men feel that way in regards to their families. These men constantly live in fear of that they’ll never see their families again yet they don’t hesitate to go out into the field. I truly respect them and I would be honoured to die alongside them over here. However, there is one thing that is better than dying for my country and that thing is you. I long to see you again and whenever I get lonely I think of your pretty smile and your contagious laugh. I love you and I hope you don’t fret and to see you again. No matter how much time is between us and how many miles away I am, I love you.
Love always and forever,
Rory
~KMM~
My Dear Wife,
I miss you so much and I am waiting for the time that I will be able to be with you again. I must ask you for one thing my precious dear, please pray for me. This war turned out completely different than what I had expected. We have been living in these very unpleasant trenches for the past two months. It is truly horrid. If you were wondering what these trenches are like my love, I will tell you. They are about five to six feet into the ground and only wide enough to fit one man. It is incredibly hard to make your way through without getting trapped in the mud. It is an awful tedious task to keep walking through them and the days here seem weary. However, not only are the trenches very tight and space stricken, they are also so wet and mushy that wringing wet would not be able to describe them with justice. The dampness of the trenches has caused one of my feet to turn black, I believe it may be rotting. I am in such horrendous physical condition that I hope you will be able to accept me, despite my clownish appearance. In addition to all of this, the rats here are substantially larger than what I am accustomed to seeing. Remember our old cat Mogsy? Yes I am talking about the one “wide,” one we had, well the rats here are just as big as he was. It is mind blowing of what strange things there are down in here.
Battle here is just as tough as living in the trenches my sweetheart. The rush of adrenaline that I get when a bullet rushes past my head is unimaginable. While I mostly stay in the trenches, some of our men run out into the open field and the results are just treacherous. Do you remember James, our old neighbor? He was blown to bits by a gun that shoots out many bullets in a rather short period of time. It took down about seven of our soldiers in just one go. Thankfully, I have not been permitted to run out under open fire, or else I bet I would be blown to pieces.
As if all of my troubles weren’t already so awful, we have some of the worst equipment and leadership that I have seen in my life. Not only do our weapons not pose a problem to the enemy, they have begun to pose a problem for us. The gun that we were equipped with is so faulty that it only shoots a few times before it is blocked or jammed. Because of this, we must run into the field of open fire to get a gun. I must take pity on the men that must do this, because even if they do make it past the German’s fast firing gun, it is hardly possible to make it back without injury. So on top of these bad weapons, we lack good leadership. When I was first assigned here, we had spent about a month trying to make it easier on ourselves by shelling the German’s lines, but we were terribly unsuccessful. We ended up wasting valuable time trying to get rid of the German’s barber wire, and we were unsuccessful at every darn attempt.
I know I have sounded rather glum, and I apologize, but if I don’t make it back home, it might have been because of the “health care,” that we are receiving here for our injuries. When I was shot in the left leg eight days ago, I had been given two options. Either I could have the wound wrapped in a bandage (for all the good that would do), or I could have it amputated. Well, now I have a disgusting bandage that is also very wet on my left leg. Not only are the treatments for injuries awful, but the precautions are disgusting. When the Germans had thrown this poisonous solution (it may have been some form of gas), we were advised to pee in a cloth and place that over our mouths and nose, somehow that was supposed to stop this gaseous solution from getting to us.
All I want to say is that I miss you and love you, and I am waiting for the time I can see your beautiful face and have you tell me that, “It will be okay.”
Sincerely Yours, Private Bobo
KG
Dear Mother,
The battle at Passchendaele is finally over. We recovered Passchendaele for a short time, and then lost it back to the Germans. It was the worst battle I have fought in so far Mother. I can still remember the taste of mud; the sound of bombs and grenades hammering craters into the Earth, and my dead comrades covering every surface around me.
The Battle of Passchendaele has produced the most casualties since the 82,000 British and Canadian deaths from the Battle of the Somme; over 200,000 casualties on both sides. 15,000 dead Canadian bodies littered the ground by the end of this battle.
The German snipers were too accurate Mother. One of my friends, Private John Thomas was sniped to his death right before my eyes. The Gatling and Mortar machine guns took warfare technology and machinery to the next level, shaking the ground with bullets. The ‘safety’ of the trenches served us no protection from gas, grenades or bombs. These narrow trenches were deep and tall, and filled with rat-infested nightmares and disease. Too many days were spent in these trenches, and I have developed a never-shattering fear of rats. Our homes of muddy fields were full of dying and dead men; men rushing out to the nearest trenches to be meet by the cold arms of bayonets. My feeling of imminent death was only worsened when my Ross rifle kept jamming. That damned rifle almost cost me my life multiple times, but I was fortunate enough to pick up a Lee Enfield rifle from a dead British solider.
At the end of battle, I remember hearing someone shouting at me, and then feeling a warm sensation in the left side of my body. I then started to go numb and collapsed onto the muddy ground. I was sure that I was going to die. That’s the last thought I could recall when I woke up in a hospital several days later. There was a woman nurse tending to my body wounds and to my left arm. Or now I should call it, my stump. She has bandaged up what is left of my arm with a white material, and it is immensely painful. This nurse also feeds me and changes my cloth once every day.
Mother, I have lost my left arm to this insatiable war. Though I suppose it is a small price to have paid, compared to the countless number of people who gave their lives. Now I just want to run as far from this hell as is possible. Please excuse my lack of courage and patriotic warmth, but I have had quite enough of this dispute over ground. You might as well just fill the land with all of the dead who fought so hard to attain it.
Hopefully we will see each other again soon. I must go now, for my nurse is going to change my dressing.
Until then, I hope you will stay safe.
Love, John
SW
Samuel forester
To my Dearest sister
I joined this war for honor, to prove my loyalty to the queen. I leave in disgrace. An unknown soldier who fought bravely for his country and almost died trying to protect it, and he would only be replaced by a hundred more. In October we (Canadian Expeditionary Force) were asked to break the front lines and retake the Belgium town of Passchendaele. We were lead to battle under the guidance of General Arthur Currie, a true Canadian who was born and raised in Victoria, British Columbia. I was truly proud to be Canadian at this moment and I could not believe the luck we were having fight with pride in my country, all was soon to change. The battle field or should I say the lack of a battle field perturbed me I couldn’t get a foot hold on the muddy terrain a stretch of barren land filled with craters the rain had made them full of filthy water. There were rumors of men and horses being swallowed by the mud never to be seen again. It was unbearable I could scarcely trudge on. Some of the men who acquired boots from the barracks had a hard time, for the bottoms where made of cardboard, I was only thankful I had brought my own. Those cheap charlatans! The “ross rifle” would scarcely fire often jamming. Some good men lost fingers when the poorly made bullets would explode causing severe damage to hands and faces. This war isn’t as honorable as I had once thought; it seems to just be a shrewd way to make money off of people’s sacrifices! I am not sure what has happed now I feel as though I will never return this barren land will consume me and I will die fighting for a land I have never even seen. As I lay in a hospital bed nurses sway to and fro poking and prodding I am not sure how much time I have left I dreamt of an angel, her wings caressing me, softly she chanted “never ending… “ I don’t know how much longer I have. I now know I will never make it back; I am too weak too tired to go on. I write for I want you to know how much I yearn to see you once more I know that is too much to ask and it is much too late this war has striped us of our humanity, beaten, and broken us, we are left to die in a country not our own with people we have never met. I long for release and I know it won’t be long now my death approaches swiftly. My dearest sister, never forget me, for I have lived.
Love
Sam B. Foster
L.S
Cam R.
July 6th 1918
Dear Mother and Father,
Sorry for the delay since my last letter but I have been having troubles finding a peaceful time to write. Last week I was shot in the left arm and I have been wounded in the hospital since. Since then many soldiers have been killed every day and from what I have been hearing from my bed, it wont end soon. A soldier from Prince George, named Nadroj Singhdeep, who lays in the bed next to me, tells me his stories of fighting in the trenches, and how he is so confident Canada will win this battle. On the first day of battle we lost 43,000 British troops, almost a third of our force. Commander Steve Alan sent out 13 of our divisions to attack and to divide the German line. Commander Steve Alan’s great leadership and cavalry background gave us great confidence going into the attack. However, our artillery failed and we failed to break through the German line. All of there soldiers hid in the trenches until quiet and came back at us with heavy machine guns. That is how I suffered a bullet wound underneath my left shoulder. The nurses have done their rest work to treat my injuries but I will have to rest and have my arm in a cast until bleeding stops and my arm heals. Writing this letter has greatly tired me and I will end it here. I hope I haven’t worried you two too much.
Love Alan Steve.
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