[Jims5543]

Originally Posted by Won

On the topic of memorials. Even though I have no personal connection owing to the fact that I'm a 1.5th generation naturalised Canadian, it still struck me hard just how many names there were, and how young most of them would have been when they were killed. I think the Hollywood depiction of WW1/2 left me with a rather "romanticised" idea of the conflicts, which I admit is shameful. More recent productions seem to do a better job of showing the reality (still just guessing). It certainly gives me a new perspective when I see these sites and read the names. I'm grateful for all those who sacrificed everything and those who continue to do so.

Thanks for sharing that, I have some reading to do now.

I found this great Instagram feed where he posts a picture and then typically a journal entry or letter to home from soldiers that were in WW1/2 and other conflicts.

https://www.instagram.com/zulufucxs/

A couple of examples. The pictures can sometimes be gruesome

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I was drinking coffee when the fighting started. I picked up my machine gun and we went to the front. I arrived at the top of La Couture, but only one soldier had accompanied me. His nickname – they called him – was “Malha Vacas”. There we were, behind a house that was burning. Everything was on fire. To that soldier I said: “Look, our battalion has ran away. Let’s get out of here." Poor fella, could barely run. He moved about 10 meters when a grenade hit him and pulverised him. The Germans started advancing over the fields of La Couture. The fields were crowded with people. On the front line they came dressed as Portuguese. They had captured our soldiers and were using their uniforms. I opened fire and the invaders fell. An hour later another invasion. Again I opened fire, before they could even reach their previous position. A machine gun fires a lot. But later, another invasion came. It wasn’t as big. I cut it down too. I didn’t see Germans after that." – Aníbal Milhais, 2nd Inf. Div. Portuguese Exp. Corps, Flanders, Belgium, April 9, 1918.

The [captured German] trench was an abomination—a charnel house—with dead piled upon dead, on the ground where you walked, above the parapets, in the walls of the trench, half buried, with either their headssticking out or their feet or their hands or their knees …

In the end, one gets used to living beside corpses, or “maccabees,” as we call them. They not only cease to make us uncomfortable, but they even make us laugh. Beyond the parapet there were two or three corpses, in the drollest attitudes. One looked as if hewere invoking Allah, another was in the midst of a back somersault. One of my [soldiers] hung his canteen to a foot that was projecting over the wall; the others laughed and followed his example. The true French spirit was to the fore—an extreme adaptability, and above all, good humor.

The odor of the corpses was nauseating, but pipes soon got the better of it. Meanwhile, shells and grenades kept pouring in on us. We were obliged to use the greatest care, and keep as near the side of the trench as possible. The shells were not very dangerous when they fell in the mud, for they either did not burst at all, or they exploded without much force; but when they went from one end of the trench to the other and landed farther on, they were indeed deadly. Toward noon a messenger came to bring orders from the captain. He was standing in front of me, nearly up to his waist in mud. Suddenly he was without a head; he tottered but did not fall; two streams of blood spurted violently from the headless body and bespattered me. It is hard sometimes not to have theright to have feelings; my men were all around me and I did not want them to see me blanch. I simply told them to cover his body with a tent sheet that was lying near, and sent word to the captain.

These various shocks hardened me. After that, I was more or less indifferent to the terrible things that happened. I even ate with good relish in the company of the head that was sticking out of the trench. –LIEUTENANT RENÉ NICOLAS, FRENCH 4TH ARMY, PERTHES, FRANCE MARCH 1915