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World War I: The Great War. Early Enthusiasm. You are standing up to your knees in the slime of a waterlogged trench. It is the evening of 24 December 1914 and you are on the dreaded Western Front.
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Early Enthusiasm • You are standing up to your knees in the slime of a waterlogged trench. It is the evening of 24 December 1914 and you are on the dreaded Western Front. • Stooped over, you wade across to the firing step and take over the watch. Having exchanged pleasantries, your bleary-eyed and mud-spattered colleague shuffles off towards his dug out. Despite the horrors and the hardships, your morale is high and you believe that in the New Year the nation's army march towards a glorious victory. ~ Unknown
All Quiet on the Western Front is a novel by Erich Maria Remarque, a German veteran of World War I, about the horrors of that war and also the deep detachment from German civilian life felt by many men returning from the front. The book was first published in German as Im Westen nichts Neues in January 1929. All is Quiet on the Western FrontFilm Released 1930
Two hours' sleep, then the thunders of an intensive artillery barrage. Pieces of metal that once were cannon; and, if good Krupp steel had been so shattered, what of the humans who served the steel? Heads, legs, arms, trunks, pieces of rotting flesh, skulls that grinned hideously, bones cleaned by exposure, lay about in hopeless riot. And so to No Man's Land. H. E. May, Highland Regiment No Man’s Land
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Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind. Gas!Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori. ~Wilfred Owen Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori(Sweet and honorable it is, to die for the fatherland) Othello
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Passing the Time • An individual soldier's time in the WWI front line trench was usually brief; from as little as one day to as much as two weeks at a time before being relieved. The Australian 31st Battalion once spent 53 days in the line at Villers Bretonneux but such a duration was a rare exception. A typical British soldier's year could be divided as follows: • 15% front line • 10% support line • 30% reserve line • 20% rest • 25% other (hospital, travelling, leave, training courses, etc.)
Diary of Bill Schira • Rain. We worked like dam fools from 7 a.m. till 1 p.m. and are wet to the skin and haven't had any breakfast. The 4 of us that were with the baggage at Southampton, England haven't had a meal since yesterday morning breakfast, 32 hours. I worked like hell and am ready to drop in my tracks. If I don't soon eat I will starve. I haven't had a sleep for 3 nights! 2 p.m. We had a poor meal of corned beef stew, rode out to a rest camp on trucks. This is a Hell of a rest camp. Old tents and 15 men to a tent and hardly enough room for 5 men.
German soldiers lice hunting in the trenches near Reims (1915)
Nudes - stark and glistening,Yelling in lurid glee. Grinning facesAnd raging limbsWhirl over the floor one fire.For a shirt verminously busyYon soldier tore from his throat, with oathsGodhead might shrink at, but not the lice.And soon the shirt was aflareOver the candle he'd lit while we lay. Then we all sprang up and striptTo hunt the verminous brood. Soon like a demons' pantomineThe place was raging.See the silhouettes agape,See the glibbering shadowsMixed with the battled arms on the wall.See gargantuan hooked fingersPluck in supreme fleshTo smutch supreme littleness.See the merry limbs in hot Highland flingBecause some wizard verminCharmed from the quiet this revelWhen our ears were half lulledBy the dark musicBlown from Sleep's trumpet. Louse HuntingIsaac Rosenberg
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Dear Mother & Father, • No doubt you have been surprised to have had no news from me lately but we have been having a rough passage- been in front line for over a month now and still no relief to hand- can't get anything here, for example look at the paper- it has been 'souvenired' from the little shell riddled village we are holding- tis on the nearest front to Fritz's first objective A------. We have suffered pretty heavily, over 40 in our company casualties but since taking over we have advanced over 1000 yds and are now in a fairly good position... • We are getting ideal weather- lovely long days, not dark till after 10pm and stand down at 4am. Naturally there is great aerial activity- have seen dozens of planes come down this trip in - some from terrible heights-tis great but awful sight to see the manouverings in an air fight. Artillery also is pretty warm. ------- Am enclosing a shoulder strap of the Fritz Battalion we pushed out when we advanced the line. We have plenty of sniping and shooting- good sport. One morning Fritz attacked on our left and after digging in the Fritz kept coming in "Kamerading" right up to midday. Have heard plenty of talk about Fritz coming over and giving himself up but tis the first time I have seen it. T'was funny, also pitiful. They started across No Mans Land hands right up then their own machine guns at them and then some of our "fools" started potting at them and they did the Chinese trot in with hands up- did look comical for we were in a position to enjoy it. We are only about 300 yds from the canal and river --------. Well mother I think this is all this time-would very much sooner be getting ready for the theatre than getting ready for my job now. Tis a fighting patrol. We met eight Fritzies last night. Well fondest love to all. Hope they are all well and in the best of health. I am in the best of health and spirits. I remain, • Your loving son,Frank.
Dear Father, Just a line am still out resting everything in the garden lovely. Am enclosing a paper printed in the field. Hope all at Home are well. Fondest love. Frank. The following is the last letter to be received by his mother and father:
From the Army Chaplain to his mother: • Dear Mrs Mack • I am writing to tell you of the death of your son Cpl F J Mack. He was brought in here (61CCS) quite early on Monday morning, wounded in the abdomen. Everything possible was done for him and during the day he seemed to maintain his strength, but towards evening he grew weaker/ died about 8.30pm. I was with him two or three times during the day and again shortly before he died. • It may be of comfort to know that I buried him this morning in a quiet little graveyard far from the noise of battle. His grave is well cared for and will be marked with a cross. • May God comfort you in your trouble and grant to him eternal rest. • I remain Yours very TrulyRevd. G.R.Boycott Chaplain (CofE) 61st C.C.S
The media in propaganda and maintenance of national morale. World War One opened up radical new employment opportunities to women. Sacrifice and rationing Recruitment encouraged to join armed forces with friends and class mates Home Front
