Journal of Theodore Morrison

Entry 7

1st July, 1916

Dear Diary,

I barely survived out there. I can't even begin to talk about the horrors I saw-the shrieks, cries, grenades, bombs, poisonous gasses... All of 'em.

The tragedy of the Somme battle was that the best soldiers, the stoutest-hearted men were lost; their numbers unreplaceable, their spirits worth never could be.

The fact that the tanks had now been raised to such a pitch of technical perfection that they could cross our undamaged trenches and obstacles did not fail to have a marked effect on our troops.

Britain and the Commonwealth lost 60,000 Men and Boys on the first day of the battle. Our duty is never to let their sacrifice be forgotten or their memory fade from ours. Lest we forget.

The cruelty of human nature had never felt so real until now. I can still remember soldiers killing each other with a viciousness I had never known, with merciless eyes and determined movements.

"Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!" Marshal Douglas Haig had shouted over the mass of people killing and fighting.

An ecstasy of fumbling to fit their clumsy helmets just in time, a yellow gas billowed from the enemy's turf, slithering into our trenches like wicked clouds.

Mustard gas, that's what they were.

My heart had skipped a beat during that split second as those cruel gasses made their way to the frontline. There was so much chaos-screaming, gurgling soldiers, gasping and drenched with sweat, eyes wide and fearful.

The firing of grenades and German soldiers shouting, "Schießt, Soldaten, schießt! Beeilt euch und tötet die Briten."

It was no war I'd ever seen before, nothing I could have ever imagined, not even in my wildest dreams.. Or a nightmare.

 My legacy lives on, my promise to Archie still holding true-I have survived today but there were more to come.

The British Forces had suffered 57,470 casualties, including 19,240.

I was indeed the lucky few to be remaining..

But the thoughts of what awaited me tomorrow kept my head throbbing and heart aching throughout the night.

"You will be home before the leaves fall from the trees," Archie had assured me.

I wonder, if Archie had survived the German attack, would he still believe it to be true?

Or would he, like the rest of us, think not?

"I will come home soon," I told my family.

Before, I would have deemed it true.

Now, I knew there was no such chance.