please note:
this blog was written in a history lesson, to be handed in, and is therefore utterly wrothless. thankyou.

(9) My unplanned departure

I am on my way home, and I am incredibly grateful, i just wish it didn't happen this way. I was right, as soon as we got over the top we were under fire, i can't remember much after the initial charge, i took a bullet to the leg and dropped to the floor, just as a shell exploded in front of me. I am so indebted to that German gunner, his bullet is my ticket out of here. I fell hard, and was soon unconscious. The next thing i remember is a strange man leaning over me, shouting for me to get up. I obeyed as quickly as i could, that man was scary (especially his moustache), but i soon realised that my once proud leg could no longer support me. "Your out of here, ill take you as far as i can then you'll have to take the train back to the coast." said scary moustache man
"But what about the others? Where are they?" i asked in a squeaky voice
"Dead, all of them, the mission was a complete failure, damn Germans hardly lost a man." It didn't really register when he first said it, but when i regained consciousness the second time it hit me, like a slice of lemon wrapped around a big gold brick, i was the only one left <[tear smudges]> out of all 6 of us that set of, i was the only one left. I didn't deserve to live, Leofrick had a wife and kids, but for some unknown reason, i was left, to try and pick up the pieces, of my fragile life and all my shattered dreams.

(8) Over the top

The heavy artillery had been going steadily for 3 days now, and our orders have come, tonight, we go over the top. The great military minds' plan is to bombard the German trenches, then send us over to kill the few remaining soldiers. My great faith in them at the beginning of the war is all but gone,they have no idea what its like. And i have equally little faith in this new plan, I've seen the German trenches, i know how deep they are, i can predict what'll happen, we'll get there and be mown to pieces, but what choice to we have? The punishment for deserting is death anyway. In preparation for "the last charge" our numbers have been boosted by an American and an Australian, and we think it great fun to get them to say normal words and see who has the most trouble. Luckily the American (George) is a weapons expert and he has taught us all how to use the new weapons, properly. Time for bed, we all need a good nights sleep in preparation, even if it is daytime.

(7) My average day

On a normal day we wake up a bit before 6am, we shave one after the other and have a wash. Next is breakfast, if it can be called that, at home breakfast was sausage, a nice piece of bacon or atleast some cereal. Here breakfast is some dried biscuit (a rock) and some coffee (mud), god i wish i was home. Next it was time for the daily kit check; rifle, clothes (or what was left of them after even a week in the trenches) and boots, they had to be shiny. I remember how much time we spent training to salute our superiors, iron in creases and iron out folds, or the other way round and how to polish your boots so they shined. We spent more time on our appearence than we didi practicing fighting (which doesn''t suit my lifestyle at all), and its showing, we've got the Germans chucking poison gas at us and half of us don't even know what a grenade is. I really wish that some of the generals would spend some time here on the front line, they might finally realise that their old-fashioned wars, with pristine uniforms and their beloved cavalry, don't actually work and then they might train the new recruits and stop this thrice accursed stale-mate. Back to the cavalry, that is one thing we can thank them for, all the horses get mown down by German machine guns and we get extra meat. After kit check we fight, two people per machine gun, one to aim and another to feed the rounds. Most of the time though, there's no fighting, and we just sit around smoking and twiddling our thumbs, imagining what its like back home.

(6) Rats

Rats are everywhere, they outnumber us AND the Germans 10 to 1. Wherever you go, rats, kept fat and happy by the countless bodies that litter the landscape, the more we lose, the more they win. I hate the rats more than the Germans, the Germans are more like an entity, shooting and shelling us. But the rats, they are right here, prospering off our misery. We have come up with an excellent way of relieving our stress, its a nice little game called "rat bating". You put some scraps on the end of your bayonet, then when some bold rat comes along, you skewer it. There's nothing more uplifting than a nice dead rat, and they are a nice addition to our meagre rations, a nice cooked rat is like a banquet here. The best bit is, rats are cannibals so you can use the left-overs of the last rat as bate for the next victim.

(5) Our first loss

Today, Hugh died. Cigarettes killed him, he didnt die of lung cancer, no, his death was much more sudden. He was on sentry duty last night, and needed a fag. A german sniper saw the glowing end and shot him right through the nose, he never stood a chance. We found him in the morning, lying face up in the mud, a permanent look of shock etched into his facial features, that had not so long ago been smiling allong with us. I shall never 4get that look as long as i live, which may not be very long, living out here. His blood mixed with the mud, making a sickly mixture, that became my responsibility to clear up. It had been Chrisps' responsibility, but he was to busy emptying his guts into the mixture. Not known for his strong stomach, is our Chrisps.

(4) My first sight of the trenches.

Eventually we came to our trench (or where we would make it). We had crossed trenches that had already been dug and saw the abject misery, any shred of the dreams we had had of war when we signed up was instantly dispelled. It is true what we had heard, this truly is hell on Earth, God has abandoned this place when he saw what his creations are not only capable of doing, but have done a massive scale. It has been raining heavily for almost a week now, in places the water is waist deep, we try 2 avoid those places. Still, i cant remember when my feet were last dry, or the last time the rest of me was dry 4 that matter. Our biggest torment is the lice, millions of them crawling all over us, biting us 2 pieces. If there was some way the german soldiers coudl join up with us against our common enemy, the louse, this blasted war would be over in a split second. So much 4 wishing thinking, but its all we have left really. The only time we get any release from the lice is when we get a short break from the front linem they steam our clothes and we pluck them from our hair, they get EVERYWHERE, 1ce we have them in our hands, we throw them into the flames and watch them crackle, by the time it comes to leave we hav little pieces of exploded louse covering us. We get the wrong clothes back, but atleast they;re lice free, the time after a cleansing is heaven, untill they come back. Oh well, time to get digging then...

(3) My journey to the front line.

We took the train to the front line, the land was devastated, and there was a steady stream of injured people from the front line, the most common injury was trench foot, it is so wet in the trenches and there is no way on God's green Earth that u can get dry, your boots almost become an extra skin. There is a cure 4 trench foot, cover your foot with whale oil, but one of the veterans told us that many soldiers let the trench foot progress, at risk of losing both their feet, just to get out of there. Nothing could have prepared us 4 the horror of the journey, let alone the trenches themselves, we hadn't even got there yet, but the terror was apparent in the permanent mask of horror on the escaping soldiers.
Chrisps got ill on the way over, i had to carry him many miles, he could barely hold on. Hes a heavy bugger, is Chrisps, but we couldn't just leave him to die, not before we'd even got to the trenches, we just couldn't. I almost chucked him out of the train when he puked up all over my only pair of boxers, dont ask me how he managed to get my boxers, i dont know.

(2) Training!

We took the train 2 dover, then crossed the chanel, there was an incident with two of us, a sandwich and a rather large heron but i shan't rel8 that now. Of course, B4 we go 2 war we have 2 train! The training camp is in France, it has a funny frnech name, im not quite sure wat it is. The training is, well theres only 1 word 4 it, hard. Up at the crack of dawn if not earlier, crawling thru metre deep mud then pick up a bayonet and charge at the straw bag, in, twist, out. I coulnd't help thinking, if the hun are as imobile as these dummies, this wars gona be a piece of cake. Everythin is ordered here, usually in lines, sleep in lines, line up 4 a shave, line up 4 food, lines of trenches, lines of rifles, even lines of privies. Bit of an ironic name "privy", nothing private about the bogs here, you have to get used 2 doing EVERYTHING with eachother, Spacktrick does make it a lot harder tho. The best part is the shooting, whereas the rest of the time im getting shouted at, when im shooting they have nothing to say, best shooter in the regiment, thats me. We're moving to the front line tomorrow, its all starting to become more serious, 4 all of us. as the sound of distant guns echoes from the horizon, it brings home how fragile we are.

(1) How it all began

The posters were all around the town , all urging us to help the war effort. I wouldn't call myself patriotic, but I wasn't goin 2 be a coward, the war was gona be over anyway by Christmas. We all signed up 2gether: me, leofric (www.stonedbobmenchuk.blogspot.com), chrisps (www.oychimichi.blogspot.com), chrabbot (www.trenchdiary2.blogspot.com), spatrick (www.myworldwar.blogspot.com) and hugh (www.myww1trenchdiary.blogspot.com). Spirits were high and we were all messing about, urging eachother on and laughing about all the woman we were going to pick up (or the men in Spatrick's case hahaha), girls love a man in uniform!. There were lots of other guys signin up, we're guarenteed 2 beat those bastartdin Germans. I can't wait to get to the trainning camp then on to the front line!