Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Trench Journal- Battle Orders
September 23, 1917
Today I asked our Sargent how the war even came to fighting in trenches. He told all about the Schlieffen Plan, a plan created after the Prusian War. He told me the plan depended on the quick defeat of the French. The troops where to invade France through Belgium and the Netherlands, however plans were made to the plans which caused a bottlenecking of the troops. THe Belgians also resisted our efforts and gave France enough time to mobilize their troops. Also many troops were pulled from the Western Front to go and fight against the Russians which were predicted to be slow in responding to our attacks. However, Russia responded quickly and this caused enough of a stalemate on the fronts to bring us to trench warfare. In my opinion the original plan seems like it would have worked rather well.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Trench Journal- Battle Orders
April 20, 1915
Today is reletively uneventful. Both sides were recovering from recent attacks so it was quiet here in the trenches. However, above the trenches circling in a, what seems like an endless game of tag, the planes soar and dodge each other, barely avoiding colliding with each other. Down below some have started betting cigarettes on the planes. One plane continues to triumph over the rest. All of us know who he is just by the color of his plane. It is Manfred von Richthofen, otherwise known as der Rote Kampfflieger, the Red Baron. He is famous for his incredible piloting skills and terrific aim. He is the commander of the Flying Circus and his pilots are incredible flyers. The battle in the sky slowly disappears into the distance.
Years Pass
April 21, 1918
Today dar Rote Kampfflieger was shot down deep in British territory. I've heard that even though the Red Baron, as the British call him, was a great enemy of theirs the British buried him with military honors.
Trench Journal- Battle Orders
Day 40 August 5, 1914
Today one of the other Companies managed to punch a hole in the French's defense by using gas. It's a terrible sight; watching a friend writhe and cough after inhaling even the tiniest amount of mustard or chlorine gas. Terror grips your heart as you see that dull, yellow cloud drifting towards you. You only have moments to put on your mask before it reaches you and if you haven't...
However, it is effective against our enemies, who cause us such discomfort bombarding us all day long, and if it helps us end this war than so be it. When I asked my Sergeant about the gas he told me that there are three that we use; chlorine, which causes internal bleeding and violent coughing, phosgene, which doesn't cause the violent c
oughing so it is inhaled more but is just as deadly as chlorine, and mustard gas, which caused blistering inside and outside the skin. "The mustard gas," he warned, "is the most deadly. Avoid it at all costs. It is nearly odorless and remains in the soil for weeks." I now carry my gas mask with me at all times. I've seen the soldiers at the dressing station who have inhaled the poison. They lay there coughing blood with blistering skin, crying in pain. It isn't pretty and I avoid the dressing station as much as I can.
oughing so it is inhaled more but is just as deadly as chlorine, and mustard gas, which caused blistering inside and outside the skin. "The mustard gas," he warned, "is the most deadly. Avoid it at all costs. It is nearly odorless and remains in the soil for weeks." I now carry my gas mask with me at all times. I've seen the soldiers at the dressing station who have inhaled the poison. They lay there coughing blood with blistering skin, crying in pain. It isn't pretty and I avoid the dressing station as much as I can.Monday, October 29, 2007
Trench Journal- Battlefield Orders
Day 22 July 18, 1914
I'm so tired. I've only been at the front for a couple weeks but it feels like an eternity. We all wait, tense, listening to the soft booms in the distance; seeing the rockets and flares light up the sky. The hours pass slowly by, dragging on and on. I strain my ears listening for the slight buzz of artillery rounds approaching; waiting for the order to duck. Everyone is feeling down and anxious, the other day we charged the French but we suffered heavy losses to their machine guns and mortars. Those
machine guns are terrible. They're heavy, they jam, they overheat, and they cut down your comrades right in front of your eyes. The most inhumane thing they've brought out here are the flamethrowers though. Although they are effective against bunkers no man wishes to see another die like that. It's a terrible sight to see a man being burned alive, screaming, rolling on the ground in an effort to put out the flames.
We have no mercy for the flamethrower operators; we despise them. As I think of my comrades and wait to be relieved I watch a dogfight overhead. The French pilot is skilled at dodging the German's shots but is unable to hold off for long and lights up the sky, a bright streak against the red and green of the flares as he plummets toward the earth. Since aeroplanes have become involved in the war we also have to watch out for them. There is always the risk that they might shoot you or crash into your trench. I heard they have mounted machine guns on aeroplanes now. I wonder if they work any better than ours? Finally, my relieve has come. Now I can try to rest.
Day 23 July 19, 1914
Today our spirits our raised! Kat found for us three loaves of bread and managed to trade parachute silk and some cigarettes for some good horse meat. He cooked it for us as we keep watch. Our Corporal stopped by and tells us about some new Intel on these huge armored cars calle
d tanks. They say the British and French are building many of them and sending them into the field. He tells us that they are able to crush anything in their path and can't be stopped by bullets, but often become stuck in trenches. They laugh as they picture a huge metal box tipping over and having its operators scramble out in search of cover. I laugh too, but feel a little anxious about what I should do if confronted by one of these metal monsters. I try not to think about it. Instead I stare out at No man's land. That never ending sight of barren land, ripped up and blown apart by the artillery of both sides, strewn with the bodies of the dead and possibly the dying. If you get stuck out there you better jump in the nearest ditch you can find for there is no cover other than the ditches scattered about. I've seen many wounded men shot trying to return to their trenches.
I'm so tired. I've only been at the front for a couple weeks but it feels like an eternity. We all wait, tense, listening to the soft booms in the distance; seeing the rockets and flares light up the sky. The hours pass slowly by, dragging on and on. I strain my ears listening for the slight buzz of artillery rounds approaching; waiting for the order to duck. Everyone is feeling down and anxious, the other day we charged the French but we suffered heavy losses to their machine guns and mortars. Those
machine guns are terrible. They're heavy, they jam, they overheat, and they cut down your comrades right in front of your eyes. The most inhumane thing they've brought out here are the flamethrowers though. Although they are effective against bunkers no man wishes to see another die like that. It's a terrible sight to see a man being burned alive, screaming, rolling on the ground in an effort to put out the flames.
We have no mercy for the flamethrower operators; we despise them. As I think of my comrades and wait to be relieved I watch a dogfight overhead. The French pilot is skilled at dodging the German's shots but is unable to hold off for long and lights up the sky, a bright streak against the red and green of the flares as he plummets toward the earth. Since aeroplanes have become involved in the war we also have to watch out for them. There is always the risk that they might shoot you or crash into your trench. I heard they have mounted machine guns on aeroplanes now. I wonder if they work any better than ours? Finally, my relieve has come. Now I can try to rest.
Day 23 July 19, 1914
Today our spirits our raised! Kat found for us three loaves of bread and managed to trade parachute silk and some cigarettes for some good horse meat. He cooked it for us as we keep watch. Our Corporal stopped by and tells us about some new Intel on these huge armored cars calle
d tanks. They say the British and French are building many of them and sending them into the field. He tells us that they are able to crush anything in their path and can't be stopped by bullets, but often become stuck in trenches. They laugh as they picture a huge metal box tipping over and having its operators scramble out in search of cover. I laugh too, but feel a little anxious about what I should do if confronted by one of these metal monsters. I try not to think about it. Instead I stare out at No man's land. That never ending sight of barren land, ripped up and blown apart by the artillery of both sides, strewn with the bodies of the dead and possibly the dying. If you get stuck out there you better jump in the nearest ditch you can find for there is no cover other than the ditches scattered about. I've seen many wounded men shot trying to return to their trenches.
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