Thoughts of Leaving Home

A Canadian soldier's thoughts on leaving home during World War I. This was a submission for a history project, which is why there are so many randomly placed facts. Will remove soon.

May 16, 1916

My Dearest Sophia,

            I hope this letter finds you well. There is not a moment that I do not stop thinking about you. I yearn for your touch and long to hold you in my arms once again. The days here grow longer with each passing moment and my heart is constantly plagued with thoughts of returning home once again and seeing you.

            I am so sorry for not being there with you when you needed me the most. I deeply regret and will always remember not being there when young Jacob was born. How is our son doing? I regret never being able to see my own son utter his first word, and walk his first steps. I regret that my own son will not know who his father is and I am so sorry for giving you the burden of taking care of our child on your own. But now I am fighting for you and Jacob, so that one day he will never have to face the hellish torture that comes along with the constant bloodshed of war.

            I miss our lovely home. The conditions here are something I would not wish upon my worst enemy. The trenches in Flanders Fields we are fighting in is now where we live; in the same place our fallen comrades lay. We share our home with the rodents and parasites. It is truly a foul sight. Many of our comrades are suffering from trench foot; an infection caused by our feet being exposed to the bacteria and water that we stand in everyday. From what it sounds and looks like, it seems very painful. The smell of decaying flesh is pungent and constantly lingers in the air. The sight of blood and carnage is forever etched into my brain, and seeing people die that I had only talked to moments ago. The poppy flowers grow with such an intensifying red hue, as if imitating the bloodshed on the battlefield. It is hard to comprehend the reason why fellow humans would do this to each other for reasons we cannot fully understand and accept. 

            The rodents we were once wary of are now our salvation. They continue to feast upon the dead, before the bodies have a chance to decay. They are constantly growing in numbers. It makes me sick to my stomach to think that these foul beasts thrive in circumstances such as these.

            Nothing here compares to the nice, warm loaf fig cake you bake at home. The food served here is nothing short of rat food, and often, even they refuse to eat it. The food that we are given once a day is old bread, as small as the size of a thumbnail. The other soldiers call it “hard tac”, because it is so petrified that it can break one’s tooth when directly biting on it, especially because everyone has lost some of their teeth and their gums are beginning to bleed. However, we are given as much rum as we want, because water is scarce. We have learned that putting the hard tac in rum helps it get softer, but it is still not worth eating. This only makes me miss you and our life in Canada together more and I long for the day I return home.

            One thing I will never forget about being here is when the green gas began to hover over the top of our trenches. It was one of the most terrifying experiences I had ever faced. I was literally frozen with fear when it approached. I had later come to learn that it was chlorine gas: a deadly gas that kills anyone who inhales it. Luckily, just in time, I grabbed a gas mask from a deceased British soldier. I am not proud of this, dishonoring the dead, and stealing his belongings. But it was a matter of life or a slow, agonizing death. Poor Matthew, my fellow soldier, was not so lucky. It was devastating seeing him in so much pain from the gas attack, hopelessly gasping for air and seeing his determination and obvious will to live. Only to later see the light leave his eyes. He was only fifteen; he lied about his age so that he could join. He was a child much too young to face the burden of war and the horrors in the trenches. Sometimes I wonder if it should have been me instead of him. He had his whole life ahead of him. He would have gone to get a proper education, play with his friends, and grow up to be a fine young man. He said that he had his parents and three sisters waiting for him at home, and how they were opposed to him joining in the first place. This was all thrown away because our superior refused to give us the proper training and supplies. No gas masks, no proper guns, and gave us shovels with holes in them. The British and French soldiers seem to be much more prepared than us. They have better weapons and proper protection against attack. We have constantly been mocked because of this, including the fact we only have two left boots.

            I am constantly ridden with guilt. I have had many sleepless nights forced to relive the horrors of the lives I have taken. I have committed the greatest sin of all, being forced to take the life of another, German soldiers, people that are probably suffering as we are.

            I smuggled this letter out of France, because in this sole letter I needed to tell you the truth. The truth about war. To tell you and others the harsh realities that we have to face everyday during this war. The things the government does not tell you about. I want you to warn the others. Warn the men who want to join. Tell them everything as I had just told you.

            I do not know when you will receive this letter, and I may even possibly be dead by then. But despite all of this, I have never lost hope. The only thing that keeps me going everyday is the thought of returning home and seeing you, my dearest Sophia, and young Jacob for the first time. All I ask is that you keep me in your prayers. I will continue to fight for you until my very last breath.

Love,

John Williams

Author's Note

It is difficult portraying a man. The names I had written were also very cheesy.
Also, this is portrayed as a Canadian soldier. If you find anything is considered offensive, keep in mind that they aren't my views.

Reviews

[Butterfly Ninja :3]

I LOVE THE LETTER IM IN CAPS YAY!! ANYWAYS i really enjoyed it and i agree with both commentors we studied this in class . it is accurate

[WhoIsAmelia?]

I was recently studying WWI in class, and I think you created a riveting, accurate (as accurate as possible for not being in the war) picture of what it was like for the boys overseas. The way you write is very good, and you should definitely write more!

[onceafaerietale]

This is amazing, Mr. Whoever is obviously deranged, 100%