A Letter From The Trenches

A Letter from the Trenches Dear Mom and Dad, I channelise you both(prenominal) so much and I think intimately you all in all the meter. I hope you both are well. We arrived in Belgium a couple of old age ago and I thinking I was going to pass out from the tone of voice. Many of the clasp were sick. To describe the smell would be an impossible task moreoer with the dead bodies rotting in shallow graves and pretense out in the give way in no mans land, the smell of gunpowder, cigarette smoke, mud, and the gas that lingers for a few days later an sharpshoot might give you an idea of how expectant it is. They advance we will get used to the smell everyw present time but it feels like it will never diverge us at the mowork forcet. The smell also attracts rats and they are everywhere you look. just about of them are as big as Coda our cat. I shaved all my hair yesterday because my hair was move with lice. Most of the men have been cacography and itching near since the day we got here. Sleep here is a rare thing. My nates is in a bunk which has been primed(p) in a dug out section of the infringe, a mud roof, a mud floor and the constant well-to-do and banging of the shells from both sides is keeping me awake all wickedness. This war seems absolutely hopeless.

We identify awake all night in our flea infested trench, holding on to our rifles and machine guns waiting for an opportunity to chastise to take over the enemys trench; only to watch our friends supervene down attached to us when theyre bombing us and dig at us like maniacs. We are going ove r the top tonight, climb up out of our tren! ch to attack the enemys trenches. Many of our soldiers went last night and most of them were killed or maimed before they even got 15 yards out of the trench. It is barbaric, awful and a terrible waste of benevolent life. The rain is constantly fill the trenches and turning the floor into mud, it is so bad that many of the men are getting open sores on their feet, they call it trench foot and they can simply walk because of the pain. Life here is gruesome....If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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