History Project - Letters from the trench

[Fez]

I'm going to post these all at once, for the lulz

20/12/14

Mom

It’s been a frightful night, my hands are as cold and bitter as grandma’s soup, and I swear the Germans will come over to our trenches and gnaw at our frosty knees. We lost three men today; tell Louise down the street at number 12, that her son perished at the hands of not the Germans – but the cold... but still tell her that he was a brave man, and that she should be proud of her son.
Tomorrow we take their land, and we come home. That’s what the officer said, and nobody doubts him... well I may do the slightest. He says that we will clear out the heartless killers with whatever we choose and that we might as well be throwing stones at them – they are that weak. Apparently, according to Eddy (‘The Butcher’ we call him) had seen a German once, when he actually opened his eyes when he used that bayonet of his.
According to Eddy, they are literal pigs, they snort and they roll in mud. When Eddy came back with a tin of sausages an hour later after telling us, we all thought he’d gone to strangle more of the pigs! I’m sure they’d make horrible bacon though! Eddy said the only differences are that they have a pointed hat on the top of their heads and they can’t even tell the difference between themselves or us.
I think he’s right, yer know, ‘cos I once saw a German running towards his own trench – must’ve fallen out with one of his mates or just felt like he couldn’t take us on. We might be frostbitten, freezing and quite traumatized, but we can sure out up a fight!
I’ll be home for Christmas Mom, don’t worry about me – I’ll be nice and warm in a jiffy!

Lots of love

Thomas

[Fez]

21/12/14

Mom

Well, ‘The Butcher’ is dead. Eddy finally felt the end of a bayonet, I saw it happen, and he was running up with his eyes (as usual) shut, so that the blood wouldn’t go into them, and he wasn’t quick enough – end of. If you ever go up near Newcastle, stop off by Wobblecost Farm and tell his mam, that he a lot more balls than me!
Seems to me that the Germans aren’t letting going of their land, hell I think they’re even making more of it somehow. Their trenches are as thick as their eyebrows, Eddy told us last night, the poor guy, and in all honesty – he’s right. They’re not even trenches, just a giant spreaded hole as deep as a cave almost! I swear their digging to China or somewhere.
I’m on sniper duty tonight, I’ll be sure to tell you how many of them I shoot down!

Lots of love

Thomas

[Fez]

21/12/14

Mom

Looks like I’ve got an early Christmas present, three shots to the chest, the doc said I won’t make it – but his anaesthetic should keep me going... until Christmas. Don’t worry Mum, I’ve only got a couple of shots in my chest, nowhere near my heart – it’s just, I can’t feel my right arm anymore. If this is my last letter mom... tell my darling Naomi that I love her and you yourself are the most wonderful person in the world, and the only wonderful person to have raised me up to this moment.
Eddy’s cousin, Gerry, is taking care of me – he’s still in tears after his death and you can hear his thoughts almost, ‘cos it’s obvious in the rush tomorrow, he’s not bothered about this anymore. One of our lookouts committed suicide just an hour ago, poor guy, don’t even know his name. But that guy’ll be getting some more company by the looks of it.
The rush tomorrow isn’t going to last long, I can tell... I’m not going but Gerry is – and I’m not sure I’ll last long without his whiskey to put me all drowsy and to let the pain just fade away.
If I don’t make it, Merry Christmas and a happy new year

I love you mum.

[Fez]

22/12/14

Mom

Looks like I made the night, feels like I just downed a bag of sugar and hit myself in the face though. I swear there are javelins in my chest and not bullets. It’s hard having rock metal inside your ribcage, my legs are all wobbly and my arms are all sore, my hands shaking so much I swear I’ll mess up this letter, my bloods all over the paper anyway.
The whistle’s going to go in a minute, Gerry looks like he was hit in the face with a thousand hammers and cried for all the widows in the world, you can hear him repeating his ‘last words’ over and over again, looks like he can’t take it anymore. Then again, neither can a lot of us, some trench not too far from here was all wiped out in one minute apparently – not from the Germans – they killed themselves, all of them.
I’m starting to wonder again, why did we go to war? I asked some of our officers about it, and they said that it was down to Germany invading France and Belgium, but one of them said that some Austrian bloke got whacked by a Serbian bloke and Russia didn’t like it when Austria wanted to declare war on Serbia, and we’re just about best mates with them.
3 Days till Christmas, and I’m sorry to say – I won’t be home for Christmas, I might tell you the bad news later (no, I’m not pregnant)
Lots of love

Thomas

[Fez]

22/12/14

Mom

Well, Gerry’s freezing to death... lying on no man’s land... I don’t think he’ll get up anytime soon: seems like the artillery got him before anyone else, poor lad. I guess I’ll be going down with the ship too, we’ve only got seven men left to even defend this trench, Bruce (one of our officers) said that we’ll get another group of men tomorrow, but I doubt it, I’m just not believing anything these men say, even the Merry Christmas card I got from one of them – they just want to give you re-assurance before sending you to your cold cold grave.
I better give the news, remember when I kept going on about “you're a wonderful person” and “tell Naomi I love her”... well it’s not a “if I die” it is “when I die”... You see, Gerry said that one of the bullets will probably reach my heart before the infection from the lice kicks in; he said I’ll probably make it till Boxing Day.
So what do I do? I’m going out fighting, that’s what! I pleaded one of the officers to let me go out there with grenades strapped to myself, and it took him just five seconds to find the straps, I know you’d want me home for my last few moments, but I won’t get there in time. I’m going up on Christmas Day, to give them blighters a Merry Christmas indeed.

Lots of love

Thomas

[Fez]

23/12/14

Mom

They’re all dead Mum... all of them... Bruce wanted one last push for the trench; he even went up with them. But after ten minutes, no-one came back for me... I didn’t even hear any gunfire or explosions, it’s all gone silent and I don’t like it one bit. Thankfully, before they all went, they threw the straps of grenades to me, they’re all linked to one pieces of string, so all I need to do is pull and then... boom.
That extra garrison Bruce was talking about yesterday, but I hope it’ll be here soon, I think the Germans will get to this trench before them – but you can doubt anything, and it might still happen.
If this is indeed my last letter, and it probably is, then... well you know what to do...
Lots of love

Thomas

[Fez]

23/12/14

Mom

About ten minutes after I wrote the letter and put it in the filled mail bag, ten men arrived down the trench, at first I thought it was the Germans – and I got ready to pull the string. Thankfully, it was a bunch of fighting blokes, the ‘really efficient kind’, their leader – Jose, a French guy, said that they had fought over nine trenches and only lost one man – who happened to be his brother.
We’re spending the rest of day just setting up, I can limp around on one of the leftover crutches now, still hurts – but not as much. It’s quite hard coming to terms that you’ll die painfully and slowly, and so far away from home... but we all have to shed a tear and move on.
Mom, if I do make it – I won’t come home with a full ‘head and hat’ if you know what I mean

Lots of love

Thomas

[Fez]

24/12/14

Mom

It’s Christmas Eve, and well – everyone’s felling it. This little dash of hope in all our hearts, that we’ll make it through the war on beyond, even though my hope isn’t so large. The Germans just about have us cornered and we’re all slightly losing it, not just our mental state – but we’re low on ammo and rations.
We hope for something magical to happen tomorrow, that a behemoth of light will come down from the skies and kill the Germans, and end the war – so that I can spend my last day on Earth in the warmth of my family. Paulo, a Spanish soldier, said that he and his friend used to hope that the Germans would surrender out of fear of him – and that he would return to his French home, to his child and wife. That was until his friend, Lucas, died at the hands of the freezing temperature
I got to go now Mom, the trenches across the field are... ringing...

Lots of love

Thomas

[Fez]

24/12/14

Mom

Its Christmas trees! The Germans are trying to lure us with Christmas trees! The devils want to use Jesus as a weapon against us, the devious criminals. We all looked across the trench to see them; brightly coloured baubles and tinsel all around, and we knew it was a trap. Jose suggested that we might as well see what they want, but we all know it’s obviously a trick.
Paulo was already taking shots five minutes later, choosing which targets would die from a shot to the chest and which would only fall and die hours later. I might have to write this letter later, Jose just handed me a rifle and told me to “check this out”, probably some dirty trick from the Germans again
I hear something.

Lots of love

Thomas

[Fez]

24/12/14

Mom

Well, it’s defiantly something! The Germans across a singing that old hymn I know – Silent Night, well they’re singing the German version, but it’s obviously Silent Night. Jose has rallied us all up to go and see what they’re up to, but to strangely leave our rifles behind. I don’t know what’s going on, will write more of this letter later.
Back and well, I can’t believe it... I limped over the land, hearing Jose and a German officer chat in the distance, the end of my crutch receiving the dirt – and I didn’t see cowards walk towards us, or Germans – just scared men and mere boys, all with the difference of the helmets.
Both lines of men came together, and in the cold air – we could only look into each other’s eyes and see what had brought our ceasefire: Christmas. Us ‘soldiers’ bred to kill each other, surrendered to it and we didn’t give a damn. One brave soldier from the German side stopped looking at us and pulled a photograph out of his pocket, smiling deeply.
“Meine Kinder.” He said softly
There, in etched black and white – was the two smiling faces of a small boy holding a baby girl, and a small inscription of ‘19/12/13’, and I smiled back at him and pulled out my own photograph of Naomi, and stuttered ‘My wife’and kissed the photograph, I shakily gave it to the German, somehow recognising some of the faces around him.
The group of men in front of us observed the photograph, smiled and nodded, and then the man in front of us held it to his lips and kissed it – we all had a chuckle, and as I looked around... Men were talking to each other, others were gasping in how close they lived to each other, and some exchanged champagne and exchanged addresses too. It was madness, on Christmas Day, in the middle of a world war, and none of us cared.
The wounds in my chest had already sored to the point it hurt so bad, I usually had to sit down all day, but I only wanted to see what was going on. Now, the bullets were already *****ling into my muscles and I felt them near the beating of my heart, I went pale and blue for a minute – as the lads chatted to the Germans, and one of them noticed me.
“Was mache ich falsch?” I heard, as I cowered to the ground.
One of them spoke English, and Paulo was already explaining my condition to him, and after ten minutes – I was being carried back to a trench... but not my own trench. I blacked out for just a few seconds and awoke on some silk, covered with a fuzzy blanket and warmth inside me; I looked to see the warmth was alcohol, being fed by a German.
“Sie werden fein”
The amber coloured liquid I drank was no other than the same bottle of whiskey that Gerry had, and his rifle lay across the room. I honestly didn’t know what to say at this point – the man feeding me this quiet anaesthetic – had obviously killed Gerry. He had obviously killed one of my dear friends, and a friend who could’ve prolonged my lifespan...

Nobody said anything for ten minutes, as I gulped down the last of the soother, and felt home for some reason. A fire by my side, Naomi comforting me and myself just watching sparks turn into eternal happiness and give light to the dark world I came from, but the imaginary time lasted only a few minutes, and I was back in some god forsaken trench, with the worst possible notion – the alcohol was all gone.
I thanked the German with a quick nod, and he helped me back on to No Man’s Land, to see what extraordinary event was taking place, teams of five from each side of the field had engaged in a football match, I’m not even making this up mom! I’m sure you’re pretty much gobsmacked and probably won’t believe a word I’m saying, but I’m not believing it either.
The Germans had over five players, I guess we were short, but the shorthanded team didn't stop them from weaving between the craters and bodies, passing the ball of artillery shells and unused rifles, we were doing pretty well, until of course – the Germans got possession and never let go of it, a quick few friendly tackles and goals later, it finishes: 2-1 to the Germans (but they obviously cheated)
Ten minutes later... and only ten minutes before I came back to write this message, we bury the dead. On the day Christ was born, we all felt it was just right to bury our friends and neighbours... Jose had to bury Bruce, we found his body just inches away from the German trench, and I had to find whatever was left of Gerry.
When the Germans came to help us, it felt just a bit too spooky, that they were digging the grave of the men they killed. We only found three Germans dead on the field, and we surely guilt and well, thoughtful. I couldn’t imagine how the Germans felt, probably like they had ripped the heart out of a pig, to find it was their own friend.
We all cried that night, and returned to a bountiful of rations, a gift from the King. We were all thinking ‘We’ll play them tomorrow and win!’And ‘We might have time to share the rations’, but that was before we all went quiet.

Lots of love

Thomas