As You Were

Hi Chums, I'm still here.

Well things have returned to normal and its all go and hard slogging between us and Fritz. When I last wrote to you I had just returned from the trenches and was off for a pint. What a blast that was, literally!

Me and my pals scrubbed up a bit and then headed off for our favourite estaminet. We were downing our first pint when Fritz decided to warm things up for us. We heard the distant roar of his guns and then as the shell flew threw the air we heard the whooshing sound getting nearer and nearer. We all thought it was coming straight for us and dived for cover. It went straight over us, thank goodness, and landed in the village. There was a deafening crump as it went off and then a second or so after the ground shook and the glasses rattled on the shelf.

Fritz decided to turn the heat up by throwing more shells at us. We headed for the cellar for safety and sat there listening to the incoming shells. Sometimes they landed near sometimes they didn't. Sometimes the earth shook, sometimes it trembled a little.

Not knowing how long we were going to have to stay and it being a well stocked cellar we decided to partake of some of its finest wine. If it was going to be our last we wanted to make sure we went in style.

When the shelling had stopped we climbed out of our hiding place. Outside there was a huge commotion as people were going about trying to help each other, rescue people from shattered buildings, catch horses wild with fear and generally trying to pull together after this abominable bombardment.

We helped as best we could and then wearily we trudged back to our billet that thankfully was safe and sound.

The next day (later that same day, the 6th) we went back out to see what more we could do for the towns folk. In the afternoon Fritz decided he would shell us again. This time the shells landed closer to home and when we came out to the street the house opposite was just a shattered shell of what it had been. There were bricks, furniture, clothes, broken wooden beams and personal belongings everywhere.

We were told there had been people in the house when it had been hit but when we looked all we could find was a bloody shattered mess with pieces of body strewn amongst the rubble. They had taken a direct hit and the explosion had completely blown them to bits.

An ambulance arrived but there was no helping anyone. The poor chaps spent some time collecting together what they could to take to the morgue and then give a proper burial.

I was sickened by it. Fritz knew there were civilians in this village but he shelled it anyway just to try and kill us. How I felt for those poor people.Christmas and New Year was now well and truly over.

Fritz shelled us again on the afternoons of the 7th, 8th and 9th. It was on this day that it was our turn to return to the trenches and face the bullets again.

In all Fritz sent about 50 shells over during this period. None of our lads was hurt but the poor townsfolk took a bit of a beating. Some losing livelihood and living, some losing their lives.

We gathered together at dusk on the 9th and did our usual 'run' into the trenches. The routine we take to the reach the front line is the same every time, I'll take you through it. We gather together in the centre of Le Bizet and await the officers to join and give the order to march off. When we do so it isn't quite your usual brisk orderly march with bags of spirit and a song to go with it, its more of a quiet casual walk. We set off in rows of four. The villagers come out and shout 'bon chance'  and 'bonsoir' to us and wave us off.

We tramp on into the darkness in the direction of the trenches, the gunfire getting louder all the time and the illumination from the star shells getting brighter.

We reach a point called Smokers Corner and then pause a while. This is the last place we can have a
cigarette when going into the trenches and the first place we can have one when coming out.

We usually pause for ten minutes and then move on. This time we are in single file and the pace is quicker. The path at this point gets very muddy and very slippery. We follow the shadow in front, sometimes we break into a run, sometimes we deviate to avoid a shell hole full of water. You don't want to slip into one of those in full kit!

Sometimes a star light will go up and we will hit the deck for cover, squatting or laying in the mud and water. As soon as the light fades we are up again running, following the shadow in front.

Now the bullets start to whizz over our heads. If Fritz gets a glimpse of us he opens up with his machine guns.

Suddenly the shadow in front you drops and disappears. Its the entrance to the trench. There are no steps, just a slippery slope leading down into it.

As we go into the trench the battalion we are relieving are coming out. We always relieve the Kings Own Royal Lancaster Regiment. They swap greetings with us and are then off on the 'run' back to Smokers Corner and safety.

I'm currently at the command post in the support trench at the moment. When we returned to the trenches this time we found them in a worse state than ever, they were severely flooded. We've spent the last three days building more trenches and because Fritz has got keen with his shelling now we've constructed more trenches to take refuge in and protect us from the blast.

Some of our men have been sent into some of the abandoned houses that are in the proximity of our front line. This is easier than trying to dig more trenches. It sounds daft but we've been digging and manning trenches when there are houses here that can afford good shelter and protection. Ah well ours is not to reason why.

Today it has been our turn to hit the Hun. Our snipers have had a good day and have killed 11 Germans. Its nothing to celebrate or be jubilant about. You could say its payback for those poor civilians whose lives have literally been blown apart by the Hun.To me its just this bloody war that seems to get more unbelievable each day.

Ah well, I'm now off back into the front trench to do some sentry duty. The place is warming up again with Fritz sending more shells over. I hope to be here to write to you again next week.

Albert x