Dear diary, today is the last day that I will be able to write to you. I am somewhere stranded in Germany. I have run out of paper and am sitting here by myself. Man do I wish that I had more paper to write on. My entire squadron has been killed off and I am the only one left. I am sitting here, lonely, with no one to talk to or to keep me company. I have no way of getting home. Should I even try to leave and find someone to help me and take the risk of being killed? I guess I will just wait here and hope that someone comes to save me.

July 27, 1914. Dear diary, today is the 28th of July and I am about to go to the beach with my girlfriend and some of our friends. Man I’m living the life. I have an amazing girlfriend, family, and amazing friends. Today is going to be a good day. July 28, 1914. Dear diary, I thought I was living the life until I found out today that WWI had began and I got draft papers saying I was being drafted to fight for the Allied Powers over in Germany. What am I going to do? I’m only 17. How am I even old enough to fight in a World War? Oh my God. I have no idea what to do. I’m just supposed to up and leave my family and friends to fight in a war that I didn’t even know was going on? I guess I should have known since there was extreme hostility between some countries. But how am I going to survive over there? I fly out tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. I will write to you once I arrive in Germany.

July 30, 1914. Dear diary, I just arrived in Germany. It is nothing like you would have imagined. The buildings look of decayed matter. Just sitting there to rot like an uneaten banana. There are bodies laying on the streets as if the streets were a cemetery. Nicely laid in lines of four or five. Women, children, men, it didn’t matter. They looked like factory lines. Neatly piled. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this. Just looking around me makes me want to die.

December 24, 1916. Dear diary, well it’s been a few years since I’ve wrote to you, sorry but I’ve been so busy fighting off these monsters of people. I’ve barely been able to keep myself alive. Half of my squadron has come up missing or is known to be dead. I was badly injured last month when a bullet shot me in the arm. Finally the feeling of relief had come over me when I was recovering. But now, it’s back to the feeling of emptiness. Loneliness is more like it. I feel like not even getting close to anyone in my squadron because in five minutes they could be dead. What am I to do? I’ve been sitting here for over two years without a friend to talk to, confide in, or even keep me company. Loneliness will be the death of me I swear.

Dear diary, today will be the last day that I can write to you. I have officially ran out of paper, and it is day seven of no food or water. I barely have any strength to even write this last entry. But I am in case of someone finding it so they could identify who I am. My name is Anthony Myers, and I am from Fort Wayne, Indiana. If this is found, please return to my mother Pamela Myers at 105 Killea Ave. And please, let her know that I love her.

In this entry I have wrote in a first-person point of view of a soldier being called to war during WWI and how he was lonely and never believed that he could get close to someone because he believed that they would just be killed off. But why do people get lonely? I believe they get lonely because they feel like they can’t get close to anyone or anything without that thing disappearing as in this case.