Hi folks, Albert is here again.
The trenches have been pretty quiet this week except for the changeover tonight. The Hun must have got wind of the change and fired some rifle grenades over. Five our lads got injured. The Kings Own were coming in and relieving us but none of them got hurt.
These rifle grenades seem to be the weapon of the moment. We only got some last week and promptly used them all, we're now waiting to get a new supply. We didnt receive that many anyway! We are still making the jam tin bombs so in reply to the Hun we lobbed a few of these at him.
If your wondering what our Mexican pattern grenades are like, this is a picture of one.
Although these are called Mexican we've found out that there English, made by a company in Faversham, Kent and they're invented by an Englishman called Martin Hale. Would you believe it?
With regards to the tunnel, that's coming on good. The entrance has been made in the row of houses just before houses 9 and 10. The shaft has been constructed and a rail track to take the spoil away has also been built. I say a rail track, its more like a cart track made out of wooden rails with some rough wagons that ride along them. It does just fine for our needs though.
The tunnel is now being dug out under the houses towards the Hun. The going is fairly easy because it is just clay that we are digging through. Picks and shovels is all that's needed but were are having to dig slowly and carefully. This is so that we don't raise the suspicion of the Hun. We don't want him firing some well aimed shells and causing the tunnel entrance to be collapsed.
I say we have been digging the tunnel but yours truly has stayed out of it as much as possible. I'm not doing any digging here, the pit was bad enough but this is far too dangerous. We only have basic wooden wall linings and roof supports. The whole lot could come down at any time. The blokes digging it prefer it to being up top. They can't stand the thought of getting hit by a bullet, grenade or shell at any moment in time. I myself put all such thoughts out of my mind.
This brings me onto another danger in the trenches, one that is dropping men more than the bullet or bomb. This is what we call Trench Foot. This is where the damp and cold conditions cause the feet to swell, to go numb and in many cases to be frozen. If this happens and the feet aren't treated properly the skin and flesh dies and rots. Gangrene sets in and the foot or even leg has to be chopped off. So as you can see its a real danger and problem.
This photo shows a chap whose feet have been severely affected, he will probably have one foot amputated, maybe both!
In order to prevent Trench Foot we have to change our socks three times a day. We hang out wet socks to dry and then when changing socks we powder our feet to dry them as much as possible. When we brew up or make a bully beef hash we get our boots off and toast our feet by the fire. We hang our socks near to the fire and try to dry them as much as possible.
We've also been given grease made from whale oil to cover our feet. This keeps the water and dampness away from the skin but I don't know which I prefer, damp feet dried often or greasy feet dried not so often. I keep alternating. So far I've not had a problem.
A pal of mine got trench foot. His feet went numb. He thought it was poor circulation but after leaving the trenches he still couldn't feel anything. After seeing the medic he was sent to a field hospital where he was kept for convalescing until his feet recovered. He was away best part of a month. He said it was a right old old game. He said they spent quite a few days in bed being tended to by nurses and visited by the Doctor. Once feeling started to come back you were allowed to get out of bed and move about. If the feeling didn't come back then it was goodbye to your feet, they were dead!
He said that once his feelings had started to come back he was allowed out of bed but it was so painful he couldn't walk on his feet, he had to crawl about on all fours. Everyone else at the hospital where he was also had Trench Foot so once he got out of bed he saw lots of other blokes scampering around on their hands and knees.
He said the funniest thing was that all the men like this decided they were like dogs and so barked at each other. He said it must have been the most unusual site, men on all fours running around the corridors barking and growling at each other when they met or came nearby.
So chums, its the 9th of March and yours truly is in Billets safe and sound. I'm now off for the obligatory pint and a few sing songs with my pals. If those 'friendly' ladies are in the estaminets I may even engage in conversation, nothing too meaningful though.
So its best foot forward and on we go.
I hope to write to you again as usual next week.
Albert x
The trenches have been pretty quiet this week except for the changeover tonight. The Hun must have got wind of the change and fired some rifle grenades over. Five our lads got injured. The Kings Own were coming in and relieving us but none of them got hurt.
These rifle grenades seem to be the weapon of the moment. We only got some last week and promptly used them all, we're now waiting to get a new supply. We didnt receive that many anyway! We are still making the jam tin bombs so in reply to the Hun we lobbed a few of these at him.
If your wondering what our Mexican pattern grenades are like, this is a picture of one.
 |
| Mexican Pattern Rifle Grenade |
Although these are called Mexican we've found out that there English, made by a company in Faversham, Kent and they're invented by an Englishman called Martin Hale. Would you believe it?
With regards to the tunnel, that's coming on good. The entrance has been made in the row of houses just before houses 9 and 10. The shaft has been constructed and a rail track to take the spoil away has also been built. I say a rail track, its more like a cart track made out of wooden rails with some rough wagons that ride along them. It does just fine for our needs though.
The tunnel is now being dug out under the houses towards the Hun. The going is fairly easy because it is just clay that we are digging through. Picks and shovels is all that's needed but were are having to dig slowly and carefully. This is so that we don't raise the suspicion of the Hun. We don't want him firing some well aimed shells and causing the tunnel entrance to be collapsed.
I say we have been digging the tunnel but yours truly has stayed out of it as much as possible. I'm not doing any digging here, the pit was bad enough but this is far too dangerous. We only have basic wooden wall linings and roof supports. The whole lot could come down at any time. The blokes digging it prefer it to being up top. They can't stand the thought of getting hit by a bullet, grenade or shell at any moment in time. I myself put all such thoughts out of my mind.
This brings me onto another danger in the trenches, one that is dropping men more than the bullet or bomb. This is what we call Trench Foot. This is where the damp and cold conditions cause the feet to swell, to go numb and in many cases to be frozen. If this happens and the feet aren't treated properly the skin and flesh dies and rots. Gangrene sets in and the foot or even leg has to be chopped off. So as you can see its a real danger and problem.
This photo shows a chap whose feet have been severely affected, he will probably have one foot amputated, maybe both!
.jpg) |
| Severe Case of Trench Foot |
In order to prevent Trench Foot we have to change our socks three times a day. We hang out wet socks to dry and then when changing socks we powder our feet to dry them as much as possible. When we brew up or make a bully beef hash we get our boots off and toast our feet by the fire. We hang our socks near to the fire and try to dry them as much as possible.
We've also been given grease made from whale oil to cover our feet. This keeps the water and dampness away from the skin but I don't know which I prefer, damp feet dried often or greasy feet dried not so often. I keep alternating. So far I've not had a problem.
A pal of mine got trench foot. His feet went numb. He thought it was poor circulation but after leaving the trenches he still couldn't feel anything. After seeing the medic he was sent to a field hospital where he was kept for convalescing until his feet recovered. He was away best part of a month. He said it was a right old old game. He said they spent quite a few days in bed being tended to by nurses and visited by the Doctor. Once feeling started to come back you were allowed to get out of bed and move about. If the feeling didn't come back then it was goodbye to your feet, they were dead!
He said that once his feelings had started to come back he was allowed out of bed but it was so painful he couldn't walk on his feet, he had to crawl about on all fours. Everyone else at the hospital where he was also had Trench Foot so once he got out of bed he saw lots of other blokes scampering around on their hands and knees.
He said the funniest thing was that all the men like this decided they were like dogs and so barked at each other. He said it must have been the most unusual site, men on all fours running around the corridors barking and growling at each other when they met or came nearby.
So chums, its the 9th of March and yours truly is in Billets safe and sound. I'm now off for the obligatory pint and a few sing songs with my pals. If those 'friendly' ladies are in the estaminets I may even engage in conversation, nothing too meaningful though.
So its best foot forward and on we go.
I hope to write to you again as usual next week.
Albert x
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