Marcs thought for the day! yesterday was remembrance day and in the West Australian there was a letter published from my Great Grandfather to his wife from the trenches of the western front it is an amazing letter & I thought I would share it with you! Im up in the firing line now.We came up three nights ago and have had a pretty rough time. We came into a new set of trenches which used to belong to Fritz but out of which was pushed a week ago. Everything upside down and we had tobuild all our own dugouts. Im in a little hole 3ftx4ftx2ft, so you can see I cannot even sit up in it. Its just a little cave either side of the trench, but its cover from the shrapnel that Fritz sends over. As I am writing theres continual scream of shell overhead but one gets used to it as long as you dont let yourself get the jumps. Talk about the row his shells make when hey expode! its simply deafening. I couldnt shave or even wash for the first three days. Of course we couldnt take our boots or pullers off even so you can guess how we looked! Youd not have recognised me you would have thought it an inmpossibility to live in such muck and fllth and mud. However just an hour ago I had a nice wipe over with the wet end of a towl(my face and hands only) and made up my mind come what may I must write to you dear... The whole of the countryside is just a dreary barren area pitted thickly with shell holes for three square mile there abouts I swear theres a shell hole for every two square yards. You cannot imagine the awful desolate appearance of this battlefield for we are on the forward slope of Messines Ridge...Going through our trenches you are nearly knocked over with vile smells. Just in my sector my platoon occupies (40 yards) there are no less than four dead Fritzes buried in the parapet. When we first came into the lines these poor beggers were all over the place. Here and there a leg or arm is sticking out of the earth. I tell you dearest it was a gruesome job fixing them up( all over no mans land there are dead men hanging up in the wires) The thing I marvel at is the grand cheerful spirit of our boys. Tis the finest honour that could ever befall me dear to command a body( small though it is at present)of Australian troops. Theres not the faintest shadow of a doubt but they have the finest fighting material in the world in them. They are absolutely fearless and cheerful is not the word for it. We make a joke of everything. Some of the sights we see are too aweful to describe, but we still keep smiling and laughing. From your loving boy Roy Thanks for your indulgence in letting me share this letter with you Marc
Posted on: Tue, 12 Nov 2013 03:10:32 +0000
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