Determined to survive.

Chapter 2

Friday, July 9th, 1915

Gallipoli

Dear Journal,

I am shaken. I can not think, could barely pull myself together enough to find ink and paper. I shall start from the beginning…

            It has been weeks since I last wrote, but I have been just too busy for such petty matters as a journal. There have been several attacks by the Turks, and I have been in the front line. We all have. John was so excited at first, I could see the gleam in his eyes. Silly boy. He realizes now, it’s not all fun and games. When he witnessed his first death he was quickly shocked. You see, he is only seventeen. I think I am the only person who knows this. He lied about his age, but I would never expose his secret. I pride myself on being a man of his word.

            The war has been so demanding of late, we have all been pre-occupied. It is almost as though that quiet talk about our families with Sergeant Tyer never happened.

            But today was worse than any other. We thought things had settled down last night. Dusk came and we took a second inspection and ‘stand to’. Some soldiers were chosen to take over the front line, and others had to fetch water and other supplies under the cover of dark. I was one of them, as was Thomas. We crept companionably side by side, whispering to each other as we tried to stay hidden. It began to rain, but we thought nothing of it. When we arrived back at the trenches we ate a much-needed dinner of Bully Beef- horrible processed meat in a can. It tastes like rubber, but I will eat anything when I am starving. After I had eaten my portion, I retreated to my bunk and collapsed upon it. I felt so dirty, but there is nowhere to wash here. We only shower every time it rains. Which is not often. But as I drifted off to sleep my face was spattered with cold drops of refreshing water…

            I woke in the middle of the night to a dull thud and gritty piles of dirt cascaded onto my face. Luckily my reflexes are quite good and I sat bolt upright before I was completely buried. The rain was pouring down with great force, lashing out at our grubby skin. The grime was washed off our faces, but our clothes were soaked through. I could hear everybody yelling in panic and annoyance, some of them with limbs trapped under piles of dirt. The trenches had collapsed.

 I ran about, squinting through the sheets of rain, heading straight for those who were trapped. Thomas, Sergeant Tyer and a few others were doing the same. John was standing there, looking shocked, and Philip was nowhere to be seen. Luckily, no one was hurt and we were all up and about in no time. We rushed about, hurrying to protect our food and belongings from any further damage. The rain was icy on our already cold skin, but we had to ignore it if we wanted to protect our possessions. Although, none of us really have any property with us. Of course, John and a few others have their cigarettes. And most of us carry a photo around with us. I clutched desperately at my chest pocket, feeling around for my photo of sweet Annaleise, but it was not there. It had vanished. Choking back tears of anguish, I gathered cartons of food, pulling them out from the piles of mud and soil. We pulled them all into the middle of the trenches and stared disbelievingly at the collapsed walls. But we had to move on. So, even though the rain was coming down in sheets and the sky was pitch black, we piled up the mud and dirt either side of us, pushing it upwards, redigging the trenches that have been our home for so long. We were still building by the time it was light. We were exhausted, starving, breathless but we kept going.

Finally, we finished it as best we could and scoffed down our breakfasts. But the worst was yet to come. I was sifting through our sand supply for any that survived the worst of the rain, when I heard the panicked yells of some of our men.

“Quick, first aid!” called out the voice of Billy Collins. I looked up and saw him and another carrying the limp form of an injured man between them. I stood and raced towards them, closely followed by Sergeant Tyer and some others. Billy and the other soldier stopped, and the bleeding body sunk to the floor. I took in his short blonde hair, brown eyes, lean body and my heart jolted with sudden realization. This was Thomas. The front of his wet shirt was soaked through with blood where a bullet had hit him. I knelt down beside him.

“W-what happened?”  I choked out.

            “He got shot by a Turk, on look-out,” said Billy shakenly. Sergeant lifted him into his arms and carried him into our trenches. I stared after them in stunned silence. As I walked back I saw John shaking, crying. It was all too real. Thomas was our mate. But I suppose any one of us could die at any moment. It just happened to be Thomas. He was a brave man, and I know I will miss him. I just can’t help thinking about his family at home. I hate to picture them receiving the news that their son, husband, father is dead. And I think of my family. I vow never to put them through that. I will survive.

Yours distraughtly,

James