Thursday 23rd August 1915

Dear Diary,
Today was a muddled up mixture of anticipation, uncertainty and discomfort that simmered up inside me as the dirt and grime infested, orange, muddy ground bore the bodies of a million men sprawled in uncomfortable positions, killed by powerful shells. The only time I was at ease was when my friend, Sam, brought me a cuppa! The blast of heavy shells bombarded my ear drums, shuddering me and sending a throbbing pain straight to my head. The most horrible sight, I must say, was of David, who was on the front line. He yelled as he went down, screaming in agony and using all his breath to call my name, then collapsed onto the bloody ground. Will this horrific scene of blood and gore ever end?



John

Wednesday 14th September 1916

Dear Diary,
Today filth and shrapnel took over me. We were sent to the front line and my heart thumped loudly against the sounds of shells that went off in the distance. Sam and me, we ran forward, in the bare, targeted area of No Man's Land. Vulnerable and small, my heart was in my throat, as fear swirled inside me. Will I get shot? Will I get hit by shrapnel? Will I be shelled? A million questions shot through my throbbing head as I tried to work out the answers to the fearful questions that clouded my mind, prodding my head with intensifying pain. I had survived a year without being injured but suffered the long days without the company of my companion, David. His agonizing scream could still be heard through the night, when everything was eerily silent and it sent a shaking shudder down my spine and through my body. As the thoughts floated in my mind, I was unaware of the heavy shell travelling a metre away from me. The explosion caused an earthquake and shrapnel flew outwards and directly towards me. Struck by a heavy jolt of intense pain, I fell to my knees, red and blue spots dancing in my vision as I soon remembered nothing except the throbbing pain and the heavy grip of strong hands lifting me.



John

Monday 1st October 1916

Dear Diary,
After a dragging dream of my family back at home, my eyes finally flickered open and I found myself lying on a bed, covered in a dirty, faded white bedcover. The sheet bore blotches of dark, dried up blood which obscured the natural colour. I found myself scrutinizing the seriously intent faces of my pals. Sam stood right at the front, his mouth set in a grim line as he looked at me, concerned. The colour in his face returned and he gave me one of his many reassuring smiles. We talked a while about the events that had occurred after my unconsciousness however I knew him too well. His face showed a look of uncertainty as if he were keeping a secret that was waiting to be unravelled. I shuffled inside the covers and an instant touch of my right leg against my left had my pulse rate unimaginably rising and a frozen shock travelled down my body. I couldn't feel my right toes and my right knee! An inhumane scream left my mouth as Sam tried to console and calm me by adding reassuring words like, 'You'll be home soon to your family'.



John