September 19, 1917




It has been four months to this day that I was called up to serve my country. Four months ago I was in boot camp, with plenty of food, clean water, and good medical care. Now for the past two months I have been sitting in the same impression in the dirt, carefully peeking over the top of this dirt tomb that I lay my head down in, knowing that any day could be my last. I could be taken out of this world any day by many different things. An artillery shell flung over by the Germans at random, a sniper’s crosshairs lined up with my forehead, poison gas spreading throughout the trenches like a silent assassin, brutal hand to hand combat between either us or the Germans, blind charges into blaring machine guns and artillery fire that rip apart our ranks and slaughter our men. This is not a war of heroes and glory or a so called “gentleman’s” war. This is a war of terror and destruction. A war of mass death on both sides of not only soldiers, but civilians too. Every night I am kept awake with the constant thunder of artillery being fired from both sides, the screams and groans of men slowly dying in no-man’s-land where the only mercy they could possibly receive would be a finishing bullet from the enemy trench. I am constantly being woken up by the battle cry of a charging enemy. I do not know how much longer I will be able to stay here, in this trench and on this earth, which seems so empty and evil. I no longer remember any green fields or pretty changing trees, all that I can see is dirt , torn apart by boots and bullets. Strewn with barbed wire and running full of blood like it was from a natural. To all mothers, do not send your sons into this madness, this despair, this world full of death and destruction. Keep them safe at home.

-Draft pick #18,396