Trench Warfare
Nobody had any way to wash themselves. There were overflowing chess pits in every trench. Creosol or chloride of lime were used to keep the constant threat of infections and disease at bay. The stench of rotting sandbags, stagnant mud, cooking food, cigarette smoke, carrion, and the unavoidable lingering scent of poison gas were all prevalent and familiar smells in these ironic holes. "Propped up against the wall were a dozen men, all gassed. Their colors were black, green, and blue, tongues hanging out, eyes staring. One or two were dead and others beyond human aid; some were coughing up green from their lungs." (Lance Sergeant Cotton, Northumberland Fusiliers.)
When you spent your life in these pits of stench, you had three kinds of living companions: your fellow soldier, rats, and lice. The rats would live off of your dead companions' rotting flesh, sometimes growing as large as a house cat. You could try to kill them with your bullets, shovels, or anything you could find that could serve as a weapon against these horrible creatures, but that was a war that you would surely lose, as one couple of rats could give birth to about 900 pups annually. "I saw some rats running from under the dead men's greatcoats, enormous rats, and fat with human flesh…" (Life in a Trench, 2012)
Lice were another common companion amongst soldiers. They would breed in the dirty uniforms of the men and would escape washing and delousing by taking harbor in the seams of the clothing. These little pests caused Trench Fever. It began without warning with severe pain accompanied by a high fever. Recovery, taking place away from the trenches, took up to about three months. "I sat in a quiet corner of a barn, de-lousing myself as best I could. The things lie in the seams of my trousers, in the deep furrows of long thick woolly pants, and seemed impregnable in their deep entrenchments. A lighted candle applied where they were at their thickest made them pop like Chinese crackers. After a session of this, my face would be covered with small spots from extra big fellows which had popped too vigorously." (With a Machine Gun to Cambrai, G. Coppard, 1969)
Another disease special and common to the prematurely dug graves was Trench Foot, a fungal infection which could quickly develop into gangrene and end up getting you a trip to the medical tent and an amputation.
Shell shock was yet another danger you could develop as a soldier. It would start off as irritability, giddiness, tiredness, or lack of concentration. These symptoms would eventually develop into breakdowns that could render you unfit to serve in the front lines.
Unbearable cold was a constant visitor in the trenches that could be fatal. Many soldiers suffered from frostbite, losing their fingers, toes, and sometimes their life. “Human nerves quickly get accustomed to the most unusual conditions and circumstances and I noticed that quite a number of men actually fell asleep from sheer exhaustion in the trenches, in spite of the roaring of the cannon about us and the whizzing of shrapnel over our heads.” Fritz Kreisler. (http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/f/fritzkreis373845.html, 2008)
"The real test was the barrage. Some hid their heads in their great-coats. Some wept; others joked hysterically. But all shock and crawled, white-faced in dull endurance. 'How long? How long?' men would ask themselves again and again. Men had no choice but to last out, nerves pared to the bone." (From Death's Men by Denis Winter, 1978.)
When you spent your life in these pits of stench, you had three kinds of living companions: your fellow soldier, rats, and lice. The rats would live off of your dead companions' rotting flesh, sometimes growing as large as a house cat. You could try to kill them with your bullets, shovels, or anything you could find that could serve as a weapon against these horrible creatures, but that was a war that you would surely lose, as one couple of rats could give birth to about 900 pups annually. "I saw some rats running from under the dead men's greatcoats, enormous rats, and fat with human flesh…" (Life in a Trench, 2012)
Lice were another common companion amongst soldiers. They would breed in the dirty uniforms of the men and would escape washing and delousing by taking harbor in the seams of the clothing. These little pests caused Trench Fever. It began without warning with severe pain accompanied by a high fever. Recovery, taking place away from the trenches, took up to about three months. "I sat in a quiet corner of a barn, de-lousing myself as best I could. The things lie in the seams of my trousers, in the deep furrows of long thick woolly pants, and seemed impregnable in their deep entrenchments. A lighted candle applied where they were at their thickest made them pop like Chinese crackers. After a session of this, my face would be covered with small spots from extra big fellows which had popped too vigorously." (With a Machine Gun to Cambrai, G. Coppard, 1969)
Another disease special and common to the prematurely dug graves was Trench Foot, a fungal infection which could quickly develop into gangrene and end up getting you a trip to the medical tent and an amputation.
Shell shock was yet another danger you could develop as a soldier. It would start off as irritability, giddiness, tiredness, or lack of concentration. These symptoms would eventually develop into breakdowns that could render you unfit to serve in the front lines.
Unbearable cold was a constant visitor in the trenches that could be fatal. Many soldiers suffered from frostbite, losing their fingers, toes, and sometimes their life. “Human nerves quickly get accustomed to the most unusual conditions and circumstances and I noticed that quite a number of men actually fell asleep from sheer exhaustion in the trenches, in spite of the roaring of the cannon about us and the whizzing of shrapnel over our heads.” Fritz Kreisler. (http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/f/fritzkreis373845.html, 2008)
"The real test was the barrage. Some hid their heads in their great-coats. Some wept; others joked hysterically. But all shock and crawled, white-faced in dull endurance. 'How long? How long?' men would ask themselves again and again. Men had no choice but to last out, nerves pared to the bone." (From Death's Men by Denis Winter, 1978.)