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Behind the Barbed Wire~ The thoughts and feelings of a WW1 soldier

Author's note:

My inspirations are listed in the long summary.  I prefered to consolidate my three answers.

Author's note:

My inspirations are listed in the long summary.  I prefered to consolidate my three answers.

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Chapters:   « Previous 1 2 3 4 Next »

Time Fades Away II

December 20, 1917
Dear Journal,

It's terrifying, twisted.  A complete bloodbath, and the mud that surrounds me is mixed with a crimson tone.  The blood of the men who surrounded me, laughing, drinking, and playing card games.  Gone.  Gone is the merriment and lightheartedness.  I have never had such a heavy feeling in my chest.  That of grief, and illness.  It has rained.  Everyday,  For roughly two weeks.  However,

A bit dark, I know, but bear with me.

time does not seem to pass in this hellish wasteland.  You end up losing your concept of time.  The only way time moves on, is how fast the bodies rot.  How long ago your comrade was killed.  How many moments ago, when you realized you could no longer imagine your loved one’s voices, how they felt, how they laughed.  It tears your mental health away, just as quickly as your physical health wears down.  I am one of the lucky ones.  At least, I would like to think that.  It’s difficult some days, when the trenches seem more like graves than anything else.  Simon says that agrees indefinitely,  It is amazing how strong he is, through these heartbreaking massacres, that occur every day. his brother was killed, the other day, by poisonous gasses, near squadron 5,  It seems that the more the war escalates, the faster mankind is out to murder each other, with weapons of mass destruction.  It is an extremely devastating notion, really.  I am counting my blessings (the few that exist, anymore) each and every night, it gives me a sense of security, that of contentment.  I can only hope and pray that there is a force above, who is embracing the fallen, with open arms.  Raindrops are becoming fuller, now hitting the journal parchment like watery bullets.  My bad, it is an unsettling analogy. There is rarely time to right any more, I have felt ill constantly, ever since the day the after effects of a nearby poisonous gas bomb hit our squadron.  I am so lucky to be in a group of men with spirits so tough, that their souls can never be extinguished, even if their Earth bound bodies are.  I am concerned about Simon.  He has been coughing, and gasping all throughout the night.  I just finished my shift, on watch, when I began writing.  How can the generals expect us to sleep when bullets are whizzing over our slumbering bodies.  I obtain a dreadful case of insomnia whenever I cannot cease worrying about something.  So I lie awake, listening to the unnerving, ill coughs of the men around me.  At this moment, the silence is deafening.  I’ve never really understood that paradox until I experienced it, the men had all held in their coughing, after a loud click just sounded in the distance.  We all think that a terror is brewing, this is simply the calm before the storm.

Journal.  It is raining bullets.  Not the watery kind.  My gut was clenching, as I tried to push other men out of the German fire, I am sure it is a plane, shooting down at us, with the addition of ground men.  I rolled, along with a few others to the side of the trench that wasn’t as visible.  We could not fight back.  We are heavily outnumbered, and I can’t stand the thought of mindlessly shooting the Germans.  They’re all misguided young men, who have families, and friends, and soulmates.  I only shoot to defend.  I will never shoot purely to kill, I couldn’t live with myself..  I am not sure if there is a God above.  No pain could match what I am feeling in my heart.  The sorrow is flowing through the smoky atmosphere, pellets of water rain down on us, and one man screeches in agony as a bullet penetrates his heart.  There is more blood, pooling in the filthy mud and muck.  I have to look away.  You must be wondering why I am documenting this tragedy.  Well, honestly, it is the only thing able to distract me enough.  Otherwise I would gladly put a bullet in my head.  I am attempting to visualise my darling, for it may be the last time I ever see her.  I’m trying to hold in my tears, but it is hell on Earth at this moment, or something pretty close to it.  I can’t face the scene before me.  I feel that I have contributed enough of my life, and my courage.  I am allowed to be frightened for a moment.          
                        Aren’t I?

i ii have beeen struckk…...

Chapters:   « Previous 1 2 3 4 Next »

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This book has 3 comments. Post your own now!

Halloimjane said...
Feb. 25, 2016 at 9:32 am
hmm. gloomy, but cool gloominess
Mayday paradefanatic said...
Feb. 25, 2016 at 9:30 am
Bookdiva said...
Feb. 7, 2016 at 10:14 am
This is an incredible book. Reading this, I feel as if I have time-traveled to this place & time. Keep writing!!!

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