WWI Diary Entry

Diary Entry

Dear Family,

Over here is a living hell. Guns fire almost every minute and shrapnel flies over our heads whenever we turn our eyes to the sky. When I sleep, I am constantly freezing, sometimes even fearing the rats that run through the trenches. That bunch of pesky vermin consume our rations and have taken mouthfuls of some of the other soldiers as they slept. It is so cold over here that when I wake up in the morning, I often find my eyelids frozen shut. It is very muddy here in the trenches. The combination of mud and cold has given many other soldiers a condition called "Trench Foot". I causes them to loose toes. Some have even lost their feet! Luckily, I haven't contracted this disease. It's horrible! There is disease and rats and corpses (oh yes, corpses). Corpses are EVERYWHERE! They litter the ground everywhere you look. We have a cleaver contraption that fires guns for us so that the enemy doesn't know where we really are.

But now that I have caught you up on what is happening over here, I want you to know that I wish I were home. I wish I could sleep in my own bed, away from the cold and the rats and the stench of death. It's terrifying out here. I face the possibility death every second and I'm scared. So many people have died and I'm afraid that I will meet the same fate. I know I promised to be home for Christmas, but every day I spend here the possibility of that gets lower and lower. What if I never come back at all? What if I die here? I don't want to worry you but want you to know that I may not come back at all, I want you to be prepared.

Sincerely Yours,

Patrick Conner.