with far more than the constant fear of going over the top
Sources of life in the trenches include photographs, poems written by the soldiers, letters home, and the journalist articles. All inform of the reality of the trenches. Men in the Trenches never became used to the incessant and all-pervasive nature of the mud. It affected their whole existence; food, clothing, health North-eastern France and Belgium received frequent rain that when combined with the clay in the trenches and the artillery bombardments resulted in muddy swamps.
Mud is the chief enemy and chief misery of the soldier. Mud soft and deep, that you sink into, vainly seeking a foothold on something solid; or stiff and clinging, gripping boots so firmly as sometimes to drag them off. Mud, that coats men, horses, guns, rifles, and all in a thick camouflage, so that they become almost indistinguishable from the ground. It clings to mens bodies and cracks their skins, and the slimy horror of it soaks their souls and sucks their courage. I have known those who can face an enemy barrage without flinching, who still shiver at the memory of their experiences in the mud of Flanders.
Boyd, Sergeant P, Salvage, Australian War Memorial Facsimile Editions, Canberra (1918) 1983, in McAndrew, M, Thomas, D and Cummins, P, The Great War and its Aftermath, Cambridge University Press, Melbourne, 2001, p.173
It was not uncommon for the men in the trenches to stand for days at a stretch in knee-high water. The lack of drainage and incessant rain meant that the trenches were frequently full of water. This led to conditions of trench foot. Trench foot if the painful swelling of the feet caused by constant immersion in water. In some cases the toes would rot off and the condition often progressed to gangrene, that would often lead to amputation
Your feet swell to two or three times their normal size and go completely dead. You could stick a bayonet into them and not feel a thing. If you were fortunate enough not to lose your feet and the swelling begins to go down, it is then that the intolerable, indescribable agony begins. I have heard men cry and even scream with the pain and many had to have their feet and legs amputated. I was one of the lucky ones, but one more day in that trench and it may have been too late.
Sergeant Harry Roberts, RAMC, after holding a flooded strategic front line trench for six days and nights, just before the beginning of the Battle of the Somme, 1919
It was not only water that filled the trenches, that water at the bottom of a trench soon developed into an unbelievable putrid concoction of human and military debris The stench of the trench the smell of explosives and gas often induced vomiting. At the height of the battle men had no choice but to urinate where they stood. Diarrhoea and dysentery were common ailment suffered by the troops. Decomposing bodies were allowed to float on the surface of the water until a safe time could be found to dispose of them. At the height of summer these corpses attracted swarms of flies. All conditions creating and ideal for spreading disease. Frostbite, meningitis, tuberculosis, venereal disease. There was not at soldier in the trenches during WWI that did not have lice. Once embedded in a mans uniform they had the ability to torment their host night and day. The bred uncontrollably and were resistant to all forms of prevention. The constant scratching of the men due to lice caused the skin to break. In the unhygienic conditions this proved dangerous
Jack, like most of the men, scratched almost all the time, unconsciously, and gradually less aware that he did so. Not all of them were resigned. Tyson had once been driven so frantic that the medical officer ordered him to have fifteen days rest. The constant irritation had proved more wearing to him even than the sound of heavy guns or the fear of dying. By the time they had reached their billets Jack felt the first irritation on his skin. Within three hours the heat on his body as he marched had hatched the eggs of hundreds of lice that had lain dormant in the seams of the shirt. By the time he reached the front his skin was alive with them.
Known as trench rats or corpse rats these vermin were often the size of small dogs and were a constant unwelcome companion on the Western Front Rats were not selective, French/ German, dead/sleeping, food The horror of rats often brought out the humour of men in the trenches, for example competitions of killing rats and the various ways to do so.
There are millions!! Some are huge fellows, nearly as big as cats. Several of our men were awakened to find a rat snuggling down under the blanket alongside them!
Major Walter Vignoles, quoted in Malcolm Brown, Tommy goes to War, Dent, London, 1978, p.88
An ailment that has nothing to do with gas but a condition caused by a chemical in manure (bacillus a bacterium) that when combined with oxygen produces spores that would come into contact with wounds due to the mud. The winter temperatures in the trenches would fall to -15 degrees. The combination of cold and wet made the conditions unbearable, making sleep and warmth impossible Exposure Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent Low, dropping flares confuse our memory of the salient Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous But nothing happens.
Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire, Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles. Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles, Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war. What are we doing here?
Tonight this frost will fasten on this mud and us, Shrivelling many hands, puckering foreheads crisp. The burying party, picks and shovels in shaking grasp, Pause over half known faces. All their eyes are ice, But nothing happens.
Owen, W, extract from the poem Exposure, written in 1917, in Cross, T, The Lost Voices of World War One, Bloomsbury, London, 1988, p.80
Nature of battle had short term and long term psychological effects. Men fighting on the Western Front were unfamiliar with violence and the savagery of battle. They had to cope with constant artillery bombardments, human flesh and the stench.
I shall not easily forget those long winter nights at the front line. Darkness fell about four in the afternoon and dawn was not until 8 the next morning. These sixteen hours of blackness were broken by gun flashes, the gleam of star shells and punctuated by the scream of a shell or the sudden heart stopping rattle of a machine gun. The long hours crept by with leaden feet and sometimes it seemed as if time itself was dead.
F. Noakes, The Distant Drum, quoted in Winter, Deaths Men, p.86
The official attitude to shell shock in the early part of the war was that there is no such thing. They accused those showing symptoms of shell shock as malingerers or cowards. Shell shock was caused by the stress of war Some became violent and angry Others refused to communicate Some would gaze blankly Or the could shake, mumble and slobber He upset all of us. There were just five or six of us in our dug-out and every time a shell came over her went haywire, shouting and screaming as if he wanted to tear the place to pieces and tear us to pieces too. We just couldnt put up with it, so I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and took him down the duckboard track to the dressing station. He was quite a mild little fellow, in fact quite a sweet-natured sort of chap.
Bombardier Harry Fayerbrother, Royal Field Artillery, while in Ypres Salient, late 1917, writing about shell-shocked comrade.