I have not received any letters back from home today. In fact, now I
come to think of it, it’s been almost two weeks since I have received
anything from back home. Regardless, I still write back with high
optimism that my family receive some of my letters. I hope that my
mother and father are well. I dreamt about them last night. I could
see them sleeping and wishing me a safe trip home. It frightens me to
think I may die out here and them being totally oblivious still
wishing me a safe trip home.
Today is the day before we go over the top. I’m dreading it, dying or
making it through, either way it’s the thought of coming that close to
death, treading over the decaying bodies or passing the wounded on the
field of battle. Another terrifying thing is the step onto the creaky
mud splattered ladders in which many men before me have used to their
inevitable death. I cant help but think, why do we have to carry on
fighting? We have lost a tremendous amount of men. It has now become a
slugging match and my thoughts are clouded about what we are actually
fighting for. It is total lunacy, and really the inane tactics we are
using are to suit the British officers pride. They aren’t beneficial
to the war in any way.
The weather has taken a turn for the worse today. The rain is
unbearable it’s turning the trenches into large putrid bathing pools.
The mud that lines the walls of the trenches is now sloppy and drips
upon the men along side me. Some of the men so I have been told have
drown in the mud, simply because they have been to weak to fight the
mud‘s grasp within these dreadful trenches . It’s getting beyond
belief now, I don’t know if I can stand much more. I hate to admit it
but the last few days I have been so terrified and upset that I have
cried into the depths of my hands. I cant...