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Here is a piece of histroy homework I did. It's a soldier's diary of being in the trenches in WW1. I hope it gives all of you a tiny insight into what being in the trenches was like...
9th August 1914
I signed up today. I went up to the local recruiting office, and they accepted me. I’m extremely pleased, as I will be soon representing my country in war! I can’t wait to start!
My mother and father are very happy for me, especially my father. He says it’s my duty.
I promised them I’d come back alive, and I aim to fulfill that promise. I’m sure I’ll survive, as I have God with me.
I have no idea where I’ll be put, but I’ll be happy anywhere.
I leave tomorrow, so there may not be another entry for a while. I have to sleep now.
10th August 1914
I have just found out that I’ll be going to help Belgium and France! We’re going to be put somewhere around the Beligian coast. I’m so excited!
14th August 1914
Trench warfare. I’m in trench warfare.
We got here a couple of days ago, and we were horrified to find out that we would have to dig trenches, or join some of our fellow troops in other trenches!
This is happening as the Belgians have bravely held off the Germans, and this helped France to move in more troops to the front, and us Britians were able to send in some of our troops as well. As the damn Germans were so slow, they never came anywhere near to their fist plan of defeating France in 6 weeks, and this has led to a stalemate, where our army and the German army are situated along a line going from the Beligian coast to the French/Swiss border. I am in the first line of trenches, or at the ‘front’, as it’s known.
The trenches are disgusting, but I’ll write more about that later.
Every day, some unlucky troops are sent “over the top”, or in most cases, sent to near certain death.
What happen is the troops run out of their trenches, and into No-Mans Land, with only a rifle and a fixed bayonet to defend themsleves. As they run, hundreds of opposing troops shoot at them, almost like target practice. In pretty much all cases, these unfortunate soldiers are killed.
If I ever get sent “over the top”, I think I would die of fear before I even get out there.
15th August 1914
All I hear everyday is the continous noise of machine gun bullets flying and the screams of dying men.
These noises affect some men so badly, that they go mad. Literally. Today, one man in my trench couldn’t take it any more. He screamed, and started running around the trench holding his ears. He then proccedded to run out of the trench, and straight across No-Mans Land, where he was shot and killed. The captain of my trench decided not to stop him, and said that he was a “lost cause”. This disgusted me, as surely we should try to save every man’s life?
I thought War was supposed to be fun. I thought fighting in a war, was supposed to make you feel good.
That’s not it at all. I think fighting in this War will be the closest thing to Hell I will ever experience in the whole of my life.
I’m going to try and sleep now. Not that I ever will get to sleep.
16th August 1914
I woke up this morning to find rats crawling over me, and droppings all over the trench. I nearly threw up.
This place is disgusting. Rats are everywhere, everyone has lice, and there is blood splattered all over the walls and floor.
My feet have swollen up, and occasionally go completely dead, due to the freezing weather, and the large amount of water in the trench. When the swelling starts to go down, it becomes more and more painful. Some men in my trench have been screaming in agony, and a couple have had their legs and feet amputated.
I get a shilling a day, which is no where near worth being faced with death every day. In fact, no amount of money is worth this hell.
17th August 1914
Today, I saw one of my friends shoot himself twice in the leg to try and get home. Unfortunately, some little git told the captain of our trench, and his punsihment is that he will be, “going over the top.”
Lots of men try to injure themselves purposefully, because if the injury is bad enough to stop them from fighting in the war, they’ll be sent home.
I think I may have to resort to using this method one day.
18th August 1914
A couple of hours ago, I sneaked a peek out of my trench, to watch my friend go “over the top.”
I watched him and a few other troops run straight into a wall of machine-gun bullets. One man was shot right in the head, while another was left screaming in pain, as a bullet had lodged itself in his stomach, leaving his insides hanging out.
I watched in horror as my friend was shot in the leg. He fell to the floor, and then he was massacred by bullets. All that was left was a bloody mess.
I someone came up to me, and told me they could grant me 1 wish, I would just ask to go home again.
I wonder what they’re doing at home? I haven’t had time to write, although I’m hoping to soon. Although, I don’t want them to know the suffering I’m going through.
20th August 1914
I couldn’t write yesterday as our trench became completely flooded. We spent all day yesterday trying hopelessly to find possesions under the murky water. Fortunately, most of my stuff was okay, including this diary.
I’ve been thinking lately, how long will the War last? People said it would be finished by Christmas, but it doesn’t seem anywhere closer to finishing than it did on the 1st August.
If I’m to fulfill my promise of surviving, this war’ll have to finish soon, otherwise…well, you know what I’m saying.
August 22nd 1914
I can’t take it any more! The noise is deafening! 3 more men in my trench were sent over the top today. This included my new found best friend George. I found out later that he’d been lying in No-Mans Land, with only one leg, bleeding to death.
I think I’m starting to suffer from something called ‘shellshock’. All the noise, stress and fear are causing me to…go mad? That’s probably not the word, but I have been feeling a little weird lately.
Lots of men suffer from this, but hopefully I’ll be able to cope with it.
August 23rd 1914
I’m going over the top. Tomorrow. I just can’t believe it.
I’m facing near certain death. It’s hard to comprehend, really. I still hope to keep my promise, but it look hopeless now.
August 24th 1914
I’ve got an hour before I go over the top. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I can’t believe it’s come to this. I thought war was supposed to be good, that’s why I joined! But it’s ended up coming to this. Certain death.
I’ll be lucky to ever write in this diary again. If I do, then I’ll be one of the luckiest men alive.
Goodbye for now, and probably forever.
9th August 1914
I signed up today. I went up to the local recruiting office, and they accepted me. I’m extremely pleased, as I will be soon representing my country in war! I can’t wait to start!
My mother and father are very happy for me, especially my father. He says it’s my duty.
I promised them I’d come back alive, and I aim to fulfill that promise. I’m sure I’ll survive, as I have God with me.
I have no idea where I’ll be put, but I’ll be happy anywhere.
I leave tomorrow, so there may not be another entry for a while. I have to sleep now.
10th August 1914
I have just found out that I’ll be going to help Belgium and France! We’re going to be put somewhere around the Beligian coast. I’m so excited!
14th August 1914
Trench warfare. I’m in trench warfare.
We got here a couple of days ago, and we were horrified to find out that we would have to dig trenches, or join some of our fellow troops in other trenches!
This is happening as the Belgians have bravely held off the Germans, and this helped France to move in more troops to the front, and us Britians were able to send in some of our troops as well. As the damn Germans were so slow, they never came anywhere near to their fist plan of defeating France in 6 weeks, and this has led to a stalemate, where our army and the German army are situated along a line going from the Beligian coast to the French/Swiss border. I am in the first line of trenches, or at the ‘front’, as it’s known.
The trenches are disgusting, but I’ll write more about that later.
Every day, some unlucky troops are sent “over the top”, or in most cases, sent to near certain death.
What happen is the troops run out of their trenches, and into No-Mans Land, with only a rifle and a fixed bayonet to defend themsleves. As they run, hundreds of opposing troops shoot at them, almost like target practice. In pretty much all cases, these unfortunate soldiers are killed.
If I ever get sent “over the top”, I think I would die of fear before I even get out there.
15th August 1914
All I hear everyday is the continous noise of machine gun bullets flying and the screams of dying men.
These noises affect some men so badly, that they go mad. Literally. Today, one man in my trench couldn’t take it any more. He screamed, and started running around the trench holding his ears. He then proccedded to run out of the trench, and straight across No-Mans Land, where he was shot and killed. The captain of my trench decided not to stop him, and said that he was a “lost cause”. This disgusted me, as surely we should try to save every man’s life?
I thought War was supposed to be fun. I thought fighting in a war, was supposed to make you feel good.
That’s not it at all. I think fighting in this War will be the closest thing to Hell I will ever experience in the whole of my life.
I’m going to try and sleep now. Not that I ever will get to sleep.
16th August 1914
I woke up this morning to find rats crawling over me, and droppings all over the trench. I nearly threw up.
This place is disgusting. Rats are everywhere, everyone has lice, and there is blood splattered all over the walls and floor.
My feet have swollen up, and occasionally go completely dead, due to the freezing weather, and the large amount of water in the trench. When the swelling starts to go down, it becomes more and more painful. Some men in my trench have been screaming in agony, and a couple have had their legs and feet amputated.
I get a shilling a day, which is no where near worth being faced with death every day. In fact, no amount of money is worth this hell.
17th August 1914
Today, I saw one of my friends shoot himself twice in the leg to try and get home. Unfortunately, some little git told the captain of our trench, and his punsihment is that he will be, “going over the top.”
Lots of men try to injure themselves purposefully, because if the injury is bad enough to stop them from fighting in the war, they’ll be sent home.
I think I may have to resort to using this method one day.
18th August 1914
A couple of hours ago, I sneaked a peek out of my trench, to watch my friend go “over the top.”
I watched him and a few other troops run straight into a wall of machine-gun bullets. One man was shot right in the head, while another was left screaming in pain, as a bullet had lodged itself in his stomach, leaving his insides hanging out.
I watched in horror as my friend was shot in the leg. He fell to the floor, and then he was massacred by bullets. All that was left was a bloody mess.
I someone came up to me, and told me they could grant me 1 wish, I would just ask to go home again.
I wonder what they’re doing at home? I haven’t had time to write, although I’m hoping to soon. Although, I don’t want them to know the suffering I’m going through.
20th August 1914
I couldn’t write yesterday as our trench became completely flooded. We spent all day yesterday trying hopelessly to find possesions under the murky water. Fortunately, most of my stuff was okay, including this diary.
I’ve been thinking lately, how long will the War last? People said it would be finished by Christmas, but it doesn’t seem anywhere closer to finishing than it did on the 1st August.
If I’m to fulfill my promise of surviving, this war’ll have to finish soon, otherwise…well, you know what I’m saying.
August 22nd 1914
I can’t take it any more! The noise is deafening! 3 more men in my trench were sent over the top today. This included my new found best friend George. I found out later that he’d been lying in No-Mans Land, with only one leg, bleeding to death.
I think I’m starting to suffer from something called ‘shellshock’. All the noise, stress and fear are causing me to…go mad? That’s probably not the word, but I have been feeling a little weird lately.
Lots of men suffer from this, but hopefully I’ll be able to cope with it.
August 23rd 1914
I’m going over the top. Tomorrow. I just can’t believe it.
I’m facing near certain death. It’s hard to comprehend, really. I still hope to keep my promise, but it look hopeless now.
August 24th 1914
I’ve got an hour before I go over the top. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I can’t believe it’s come to this. I thought war was supposed to be good, that’s why I joined! But it’s ended up coming to this. Certain death.
I’ll be lucky to ever write in this diary again. If I do, then I’ll be one of the luckiest men alive.
Goodbye for now, and probably forever.
Beware the Toads wrote:
> God, that is so awful. I saw a Histiry video about WW1 about 2 days ago and some
> of it was so horrible I was choking back tears. We can only hope his never
> happens again.
Yeah...well, I'm glad I got through to you...means it must've been written quite well, I guess.
> God, that is so awful. I saw a Histiry video about WW1 about 2 days ago and some
> of it was so horrible I was choking back tears. We can only hope his never
> happens again.
Yeah...well, I'm glad I got through to you...means it must've been written quite well, I guess.
Grix Thraves wrote:
> God Ant, when did you write this? It must have been about eight or so months
> ago!
>It's still good though.
Why'd you think that??
But yes, it was a few months back.
> God Ant, when did you write this? It must have been about eight or so months
> ago!
>It's still good though.
Why'd you think that??
But yes, it was a few months back.
God Ant, when did you write this? It must have been about eight or so months ago!
It's still good though.
It's still good though.
Here is a piece of histroy homework I did. It's a soldier's diary of being in the trenches in WW1. I hope it gives all of you a tiny insight into what being in the trenches was like...
9th August 1914
I signed up today. I went up to the local recruiting office, and they accepted me. I’m extremely pleased, as I will be soon representing my country in war! I can’t wait to start!
My mother and father are very happy for me, especially my father. He says it’s my duty.
I promised them I’d come back alive, and I aim to fulfill that promise. I’m sure I’ll survive, as I have God with me.
I have no idea where I’ll be put, but I’ll be happy anywhere.
I leave tomorrow, so there may not be another entry for a while. I have to sleep now.
10th August 1914
I have just found out that I’ll be going to help Belgium and France! We’re going to be put somewhere around the Beligian coast. I’m so excited!
14th August 1914
Trench warfare. I’m in trench warfare.
We got here a couple of days ago, and we were horrified to find out that we would have to dig trenches, or join some of our fellow troops in other trenches!
This is happening as the Belgians have bravely held off the Germans, and this helped France to move in more troops to the front, and us Britians were able to send in some of our troops as well. As the damn Germans were so slow, they never came anywhere near to their fist plan of defeating France in 6 weeks, and this has led to a stalemate, where our army and the German army are situated along a line going from the Beligian coast to the French/Swiss border. I am in the first line of trenches, or at the ‘front’, as it’s known.
The trenches are disgusting, but I’ll write more about that later.
Every day, some unlucky troops are sent “over the top”, or in most cases, sent to near certain death.
What happen is the troops run out of their trenches, and into No-Mans Land, with only a rifle and a fixed bayonet to defend themsleves. As they run, hundreds of opposing troops shoot at them, almost like target practice. In pretty much all cases, these unfortunate soldiers are killed.
If I ever get sent “over the top”, I think I would die of fear before I even get out there.
15th August 1914
All I hear everyday is the continous noise of machine gun bullets flying and the screams of dying men.
These noises affect some men so badly, that they go mad. Literally. Today, one man in my trench couldn’t take it any more. He screamed, and started running around the trench holding his ears. He then proccedded to run out of the trench, and straight across No-Mans Land, where he was shot and killed. The captain of my trench decided not to stop him, and said that he was a “lost cause”. This disgusted me, as surely we should try to save every man’s life?
I thought War was supposed to be fun. I thought fighting in a war, was supposed to make you feel good.
That’s not it at all. I think fighting in this War will be the closest thing to Hell I will ever experience in the whole of my life.
I’m going to try and sleep now. Not that I ever will get to sleep.
16th August 1914
I woke up this morning to find rats crawling over me, and droppings all over the trench. I nearly threw up.
This place is disgusting. Rats are everywhere, everyone has lice, and there is blood splattered all over the walls and floor.
My feet have swollen up, and occasionally go completely dead, due to the freezing weather, and the large amount of water in the trench. When the swelling starts to go down, it becomes more and more painful. Some men in my trench have been screaming in agony, and a couple have had their legs and feet amputated.
I get a shilling a day, which is no where near worth being faced with death every day. In fact, no amount of money is worth this hell.
17th August 1914
Today, I saw one of my friends shoot himself twice in the leg to try and get home. Unfortunately, some little git told the captain of our trench, and his punsihment is that he will be, “going over the top.”
Lots of men try to injure themselves purposefully, because if the injury is bad enough to stop them from fighting in the war, they’ll be sent home.
I think I may have to resort to using this method one day.
18th August 1914
A couple of hours ago, I sneaked a peek out of my trench, to watch my friend go “over the top.”
I watched him and a few other troops run straight into a wall of machine-gun bullets. One man was shot right in the head, while another was left screaming in pain, as a bullet had lodged itself in his stomach, leaving his insides hanging out.
I watched in horror as my friend was shot in the leg. He fell to the floor, and then he was massacred by bullets. All that was left was a bloody mess.
I someone came up to me, and told me they could grant me 1 wish, I would just ask to go home again.
I wonder what they’re doing at home? I haven’t had time to write, although I’m hoping to soon. Although, I don’t want them to know the suffering I’m going through.
20th August 1914
I couldn’t write yesterday as our trench became completely flooded. We spent all day yesterday trying hopelessly to find possesions under the murky water. Fortunately, most of my stuff was okay, including this diary.
I’ve been thinking lately, how long will the War last? People said it would be finished by Christmas, but it doesn’t seem anywhere closer to finishing than it did on the 1st August.
If I’m to fulfill my promise of surviving, this war’ll have to finish soon, otherwise…well, you know what I’m saying.
August 22nd 1914
I can’t take it any more! The noise is deafening! 3 more men in my trench were sent over the top today. This included my new found best friend George. I found out later that he’d been lying in No-Mans Land, with only one leg, bleeding to death.
I think I’m starting to suffer from something called ‘shellshock’. All the noise, stress and fear are causing me to…go mad? That’s probably not the word, but I have been feeling a little weird lately.
Lots of men suffer from this, but hopefully I’ll be able to cope with it.
August 23rd 1914
I’m going over the top. Tomorrow. I just can’t believe it.
I’m facing near certain death. It’s hard to comprehend, really. I still hope to keep my promise, but it look hopeless now.
August 24th 1914
I’ve got an hour before I go over the top. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I can’t believe it’s come to this. I thought war was supposed to be good, that’s why I joined! But it’s ended up coming to this. Certain death.
I’ll be lucky to ever write in this diary again. If I do, then I’ll be one of the luckiest men alive.
Goodbye for now, and probably forever.
9th August 1914
I signed up today. I went up to the local recruiting office, and they accepted me. I’m extremely pleased, as I will be soon representing my country in war! I can’t wait to start!
My mother and father are very happy for me, especially my father. He says it’s my duty.
I promised them I’d come back alive, and I aim to fulfill that promise. I’m sure I’ll survive, as I have God with me.
I have no idea where I’ll be put, but I’ll be happy anywhere.
I leave tomorrow, so there may not be another entry for a while. I have to sleep now.
10th August 1914
I have just found out that I’ll be going to help Belgium and France! We’re going to be put somewhere around the Beligian coast. I’m so excited!
14th August 1914
Trench warfare. I’m in trench warfare.
We got here a couple of days ago, and we were horrified to find out that we would have to dig trenches, or join some of our fellow troops in other trenches!
This is happening as the Belgians have bravely held off the Germans, and this helped France to move in more troops to the front, and us Britians were able to send in some of our troops as well. As the damn Germans were so slow, they never came anywhere near to their fist plan of defeating France in 6 weeks, and this has led to a stalemate, where our army and the German army are situated along a line going from the Beligian coast to the French/Swiss border. I am in the first line of trenches, or at the ‘front’, as it’s known.
The trenches are disgusting, but I’ll write more about that later.
Every day, some unlucky troops are sent “over the top”, or in most cases, sent to near certain death.
What happen is the troops run out of their trenches, and into No-Mans Land, with only a rifle and a fixed bayonet to defend themsleves. As they run, hundreds of opposing troops shoot at them, almost like target practice. In pretty much all cases, these unfortunate soldiers are killed.
If I ever get sent “over the top”, I think I would die of fear before I even get out there.
15th August 1914
All I hear everyday is the continous noise of machine gun bullets flying and the screams of dying men.
These noises affect some men so badly, that they go mad. Literally. Today, one man in my trench couldn’t take it any more. He screamed, and started running around the trench holding his ears. He then proccedded to run out of the trench, and straight across No-Mans Land, where he was shot and killed. The captain of my trench decided not to stop him, and said that he was a “lost cause”. This disgusted me, as surely we should try to save every man’s life?
I thought War was supposed to be fun. I thought fighting in a war, was supposed to make you feel good.
That’s not it at all. I think fighting in this War will be the closest thing to Hell I will ever experience in the whole of my life.
I’m going to try and sleep now. Not that I ever will get to sleep.
16th August 1914
I woke up this morning to find rats crawling over me, and droppings all over the trench. I nearly threw up.
This place is disgusting. Rats are everywhere, everyone has lice, and there is blood splattered all over the walls and floor.
My feet have swollen up, and occasionally go completely dead, due to the freezing weather, and the large amount of water in the trench. When the swelling starts to go down, it becomes more and more painful. Some men in my trench have been screaming in agony, and a couple have had their legs and feet amputated.
I get a shilling a day, which is no where near worth being faced with death every day. In fact, no amount of money is worth this hell.
17th August 1914
Today, I saw one of my friends shoot himself twice in the leg to try and get home. Unfortunately, some little git told the captain of our trench, and his punsihment is that he will be, “going over the top.”
Lots of men try to injure themselves purposefully, because if the injury is bad enough to stop them from fighting in the war, they’ll be sent home.
I think I may have to resort to using this method one day.
18th August 1914
A couple of hours ago, I sneaked a peek out of my trench, to watch my friend go “over the top.”
I watched him and a few other troops run straight into a wall of machine-gun bullets. One man was shot right in the head, while another was left screaming in pain, as a bullet had lodged itself in his stomach, leaving his insides hanging out.
I watched in horror as my friend was shot in the leg. He fell to the floor, and then he was massacred by bullets. All that was left was a bloody mess.
I someone came up to me, and told me they could grant me 1 wish, I would just ask to go home again.
I wonder what they’re doing at home? I haven’t had time to write, although I’m hoping to soon. Although, I don’t want them to know the suffering I’m going through.
20th August 1914
I couldn’t write yesterday as our trench became completely flooded. We spent all day yesterday trying hopelessly to find possesions under the murky water. Fortunately, most of my stuff was okay, including this diary.
I’ve been thinking lately, how long will the War last? People said it would be finished by Christmas, but it doesn’t seem anywhere closer to finishing than it did on the 1st August.
If I’m to fulfill my promise of surviving, this war’ll have to finish soon, otherwise…well, you know what I’m saying.
August 22nd 1914
I can’t take it any more! The noise is deafening! 3 more men in my trench were sent over the top today. This included my new found best friend George. I found out later that he’d been lying in No-Mans Land, with only one leg, bleeding to death.
I think I’m starting to suffer from something called ‘shellshock’. All the noise, stress and fear are causing me to…go mad? That’s probably not the word, but I have been feeling a little weird lately.
Lots of men suffer from this, but hopefully I’ll be able to cope with it.
August 23rd 1914
I’m going over the top. Tomorrow. I just can’t believe it.
I’m facing near certain death. It’s hard to comprehend, really. I still hope to keep my promise, but it look hopeless now.
August 24th 1914
I’ve got an hour before I go over the top. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I can’t believe it’s come to this. I thought war was supposed to be good, that’s why I joined! But it’s ended up coming to this. Certain death.
I’ll be lucky to ever write in this diary again. If I do, then I’ll be one of the luckiest men alive.
Goodbye for now, and probably forever.