11/04/1917 As I write this, the artillery shells from both sides still screech down on either ourselves or the Germans. This morning, we made good progress through the woodland on our right flank. The Staffordshire infantry assaulted a hill position. Of the 200 that attacked, I'm guessing 170 were killed. But they took the hill. A pair of Mk 4 tanks rumbled past our position this afternoon, they crossed over the abandoned German trench works that ourselves and the Germans have been fighting over. Booby trapped almost every step of the way, so it's been slow progress clearing them out and fortifying against counter attacks. Got a letter from my wife this afternoon as well. She seems to be doing alright back home, all things considered. Our little boy is walking now, she tells me. I hope he never has to go through anything like this when he's older. The gunfire, artillery shells and bombs no longer bother me, but having been present at, and miraculously surviving the Somme, very little fazes me now. Word has come down the line that we in the Cheshire regiment are to link up with the Gordon Highlanders in the next couple of days. The high ups are preparing an assault on a manor house that they believe is a German command post. Our link up must be something to do with that. Saw two aircraft fly over. One German, the other one of ours. Everyone stopped fighting to watch the outcome of that dogfight. The German was shot down, but he crawled out of the wreckage, hollered something at us and crawled to his own line. Have to stop writing here, it's my turn on the line for guard duty now.
Ironically this hypothetical "son" mentioned in this pretend-letter would very much have to go through something 'like this' by the time he's around 22 years old and WW2 starts.
Ahh yes my grandpa’s favorite
No man's land was a maze of barbed wire, dead bodies and debris.
But I held my course.
The dozens of machine guns at my back kinda encouraged me to keep my head down
A fine addition to my ambience collection!
11/04/1917
As I write this, the artillery shells from both sides still screech down on either ourselves or the Germans. This morning, we made good progress through the woodland on our right flank. The Staffordshire infantry assaulted a hill position. Of the 200 that attacked, I'm guessing 170 were killed. But they took the hill.
A pair of Mk 4 tanks rumbled past our position this afternoon, they crossed over the abandoned German trench works that ourselves and the Germans have been fighting over. Booby trapped almost every step of the way, so it's been slow progress clearing them out and fortifying against counter attacks.
Got a letter from my wife this afternoon as well. She seems to be doing alright back home, all things considered. Our little boy is walking now, she tells me. I hope he never has to go through anything like this when he's older.
The gunfire, artillery shells and bombs no longer bother me, but having been present at, and miraculously surviving the Somme, very little fazes me now.
Word has come down the line that we in the Cheshire regiment are to link up with the Gordon Highlanders in the next couple of days. The high ups are preparing an assault on a manor house that they believe is a German command post. Our link up must be something to do with that.
Saw two aircraft fly over. One German, the other one of ours. Everyone stopped fighting to watch the outcome of that dogfight. The German was shot down, but he crawled out of the wreckage, hollered something at us and crawled to his own line.
Have to stop writing here, it's my turn on the line for guard duty now.
Ironically this hypothetical "son" mentioned in this pretend-letter would very much have to go through something 'like this' by the time he's around 22 years old and WW2 starts.
@@OrdnanceTV yes, something like that
The author when WW2 starts: Fuck
It's like this for me.
Something even more intense? Like heavy gunfire and more of being directly shot at and shooting at something?
The title says "background",not "during fight".
_Liberation.._ *INTENSIFIES!* ✓
Must sucks to be infantry man in the front line
I smell mustard