Landsturm Posted 3 January , 2007 Share Posted 3 January , 2007 In fact I don't like this, picking up the title. It's more exciting to see that a new topic with "MGWAT" in the title has appeared in this section, and you don't know the title yet. But I'm volunteering because, month can be either a really short or very long period of time, and I wish to keep the MGWAT running in time. OK, enough. So, here starts 2007; New Year 1917 in the trenches Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
marina Posted 3 January , 2007 Share Posted 3 January , 2007 Get going, everybody! Marina Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 4 January , 2007 Share Posted 4 January , 2007 "New Year 1917 in the trenches" mmm ....did I say we owed you one?? Well we certainly got that Only joking That's quite a topic...... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 5 January , 2007 Share Posted 5 January , 2007 Here is my effort, to open January's account so to speak... New Year 1917 in the trenches "Happy New Year!" ......... "Should auld aquaintance be forgot, an never brought to mind......" Johnson looked round glumly, in truth he felt anything but happy. He should have been at home now, by a roaring fire, with his feet up, his family by his side and a full glass, toasting in the year yet to come. Instead he was here, in the 'perishing cold', surrounded by men he barely knew, as they tried to celebrate. Celebrate what? Another year of this war, anotherchance to beat the Hun or another round of the great game they had all been playing,'flesh v steel' (guess the winner...). He hardly knew any of his own battalion- so many had gone west in the last year. Now it was full of strangers, strange accents from various parts of old Blighty, drafted in to fill the gaps. One of the gaps would probably have been his, but he made it as one of the 'cadre' at the last attack in November. His mates had called it the 'lucky dip, tommy's tombola'. If that was true then their 'unlucky dip' had taken them all beyond his help. In truth, he'd done his share of the fighting, in July and August and had the scars to show for it. Perhaps the 'higher ups' had had a hand in his making the 'cadre' this time. On this, the crisp dawn of the year 1917, he did not feel particularly lucky. He felt cold- colder than he thought possible, sad- his last true friend 'Popsie' Garnett had caught one in the November attack and was still in hospital (he hoped, and that maybe he was out of this damn war for good) and lonely- surrounded by strange faces and accents in familiar looking uniforms..... " Right you men, who will volunteer to man the listening post in the sap tonight?" said the bright eyed(and to Johnson, bushy tailed) Lieutenant. "I want an experienced man and a new boy, show them the ropes...... rather .....come on, come on..... I know it's New Year but the Hun never sleeps and all that!"'What the hell' , thought Johnson, maybe doing summat will make the time pass. 'Why not? It'll beat looking at these ******* pretending to have fun. I probably know Fritz over there better than some of 'em. Me an ol' Fritz been sitting out the winter since the last attack, waiting for a crack at each other.' Johnson was ready, they'd sent a boy of 19 to man the post with him, learn the ropes so to speak. They blacked up and leading the way Johnson crawled along the connecting trench, which was only shallow enough to hide you if you crawled on your belly. " Keep as low as you can lad and stop when the star shells go up, face down low." Johnson whispered "Just follow my lead, we'll soon be there" .Finally they dropped into the listening post in No Mans Land. "What do we do now, mister?" said the young lad in a low voice. "Well lad.....we listen...seeing as this is a listening post. Just sit there and keep your ears cocked as well as your rifle. If anything happens to me, you run for our lines- quicksmart- The password is 'Caldbeck' and don't forget that..... We're here to listen and report anything minor in the morning, anything major right away and anything else is bullshit." He felt bad being unkind to the lad, but in a harsh war kindness often cost lives. He'd rather the boy disliked him and lived to die of old age. So they sat in silence, the lad keenly and eagerly and not a little nervously listening for all he was worth, Johnson deep in his own thoughts. Thought that were increasingly interrupted by the bone chilling cold, cold that was bourne on a breeze that seemed to mock him. God, he thought, it was colder than a winters day on the seafront at Silloth, or up on Caldbeck fell in the snow. It did not matter how he lay, the part of him in contact with the soil was like ice and the upper part of him was in real pain as the chill wind made the muscles spasm just below the surface of the skin. Shifting from one side to the other swapped pain and numbness equally. He looked at the young lad....it's definitely a young mans war he thought.....the lads fingers were blue, but his eyes darted nervily. He was running on adrenaline, something Johnson had lost months ago. The lad would ache in the morning, but not as much as Johnson ached tonight. An hour passed, but to Johnson it felt like more. The very grass poking through the frosted earth nearby seemed to wave in the breeze in slow motion and mock him. The only things heard from the German trenches were a bit of singing and lots of coughing. 'Bloody freezin' just like us', thought Johnson and part of his chilled brain laughed at the similarity. It must have been more than his brain that laughed though....... "Hey!" came and urgent boyish whisper, "Don't do that for gawds sake". then a machine gun started up and bullets stuttered across No Mans Land. Johnson clung deeper into the dirt, which felt even colder, were that possible. His spasming back muscles now seemed sure to be a target for the deadly lead flying just over the rim of the post. He thought he could see the machine gun bullets passing overhead in slow motion and the odd British rifle bullet going the other way. They looked different to him there, as a bee differs from a wasp, each in black and yellow, each with a deadly sting. As the firing died down Johnson turned to the young lad, "I'm sorry" he whispered, " Really I am, I'll explain when we get back". Johnson hoped the lad would give him the chance, and, hoped he could explain if given the chance. It was the damned cold, freezin' persishin' damnable cold. When would it end....the cold...the war...the army...his life...would it get a chance to begin again, or would he perish in a muddy hole somewhere in a strange land. Surely this was the lowest he had ever been, the past a fading pinpoint of light and the future a bottomless pit of frost coated mud. " Psst.... hey, John -Boy, the suns starting to come up" . It was young Daniels at his side. Johnson smiled 'John Boy', that was his nickname and he hadn't been called that for a couple of months now. Since when he wasn't the oldest man left. He knew he didn't mind Daniels calling him that now, he knew without young Daniels he could have 'lost it' back there, a bond had been formed in that post, in the silence and the cold. "Time to go back Danny-Boy." Daniels smiled weakly. "Follow me mate",Johnson said quietly. So they turned and crawled back to make the first report of 1917. "What was all the shooting about, you men ?" the clipped slightly pompous tones of the young Lieutenant grated on Johnson. He felt he was about to say something he would later regret.... " Beggin yer pardon Sir, I think old Fritzy was just firing to keep the gun from freezing or summat."It was Daniels who spoke falteringly, not him. " It was chittering out there last night Sir, I don't think I'll ever get used to the cold like this, not like Private Johnson 'ere. All we heard all night was coughing and their sentries stamping their feet." " Enough of your problems Daniels, we've all got our own!" snapped the officer and stalked off down the trench, probably to report to the Captain exactly what Daniels had told him, but make it sound like he was in some way involved. As he stamped away, Daniels winked at Johnson, who patted the lad on the shoulder. "Time for some kip, I reckon" Johnson said. Things would be better after a 'warm' and some kip he felt. And so ended the first report of New Year 1917....nothing to report...but the cold....... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
marina Posted 5 January , 2007 Share Posted 5 January , 2007 I did enjoy that, Spike. Excellent stuff! Marina Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
CarylW Posted 5 January , 2007 Share Posted 5 January , 2007 Excellent Spike!! A+ Caryl Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Garron Posted 5 January , 2007 Share Posted 5 January , 2007 Nice one Spike, I really enjoyed it. Garron Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gunboat Posted 5 January , 2007 Share Posted 5 January , 2007 Excellent Spike as always! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 5 January , 2007 Author Share Posted 5 January , 2007 Very good one, Spike. My friend here read it also and like it Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 5 January , 2007 Share Posted 5 January , 2007 Thanks all...just thought I'd get us rolling, give the artists a bit of time to sharpen their pencils Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chris Foster Posted 13 January , 2007 Share Posted 13 January , 2007 New year 1917 in the trenches Here's Tae us Wha's like us Damn few And Ther're 'a' deid Mairs the pity ! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
marina Posted 13 January , 2007 Share Posted 13 January , 2007 Oh, excellent! Welcome to MGWAT! Marina Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 13 January , 2007 Author Share Posted 13 January , 2007 Great start Chris! Mine actually looks a bit same *darn...* If only I had scanned it yesterday... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chris Foster Posted 13 January , 2007 Share Posted 13 January , 2007 Hi Landsturm Does it matter if our images are similar, I just enjoy looking at other people's work. Chris Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
John W Posted 13 January , 2007 Share Posted 13 January , 2007 Nice image Chris, Soren might have some competition 8-) John Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 14 January , 2007 Author Share Posted 14 January , 2007 Does it matter if our images are similar Doesn't. Makes just people hard to pick up their favourite, but that's their problem. Welcome aboard! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
CarylW Posted 14 January , 2007 Share Posted 14 January , 2007 Brilliant Chris!! Looks very much 'of the time' Caryl Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 14 January , 2007 Share Posted 14 January , 2007 Impressive work Chris Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 14 January , 2007 Share Posted 14 January , 2007 Welcome Chris, wonderful work, Spike you are just getting better every time. Cheers Kim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Landsturm Posted 15 January , 2007 Author Share Posted 15 January , 2007 I have asked this earlier, but never really got the answer I was looking for... and it popped back to my mind when I re-read Spike; What were/are the winter temperatures like in Northern France and Belgium? I know that 1916/17 was a snowy one, I have seen many photos and still in April 1917, there was a blizzard and sleet (in comparison to say April 1915, which was already green and warmer). Spike's... memoirs left me... cold and when I read it, I could remember some of my own guard post activities (or lack of) in the lovely Finnish winter weather... In little under -30°C my hands turned numb and white and my trousers froze in to sitting position (seriously they could almost stand on their own which made us laugh). Of course, as I heard from granpa (see my signature), this was nothing compared to the temperatures of 1939-40 in Karelian Isthmus... "Better New Year, Sarge..." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 15 January , 2007 Share Posted 15 January , 2007 Great work Landsturm. I always thought I'd read somewhere that the 1916/17 winter was a very cold one, one of the coldest in the region for some time.... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozzie Posted 25 January , 2007 Share Posted 25 January , 2007 "There is no-one left, little mate," the soldier murmered as he gathered the little bundle in his arms. He looked up and down the trench at the men who huddled into their coats, wishing that they were at home in front of a roaring fire. The soft lilt of their voices as they sung a familiar tune, grated agianst his senses. Their faces were sort of familiar, if only because they were reddened with cold, and lined with fatigue. But the faces did not hold that comforting intimacy of knowledge. They were new, only in the regiment a couple of weeks. They had no memory of those cold nights on Anzac, or the warm days of Egypt. Those men were gone. Gone to the earth around him, or to hospital or to England. He was alone in a regiment of men. The soldier looked down at the quivering little dog in his arms. His numb fingers absently stroking the velvet ears. "You miss ol' Pete, don't you, mate. He made me promise I'd look after you, when he went west. Don't mind saying I miss him too. He was always good for a spare smoke. He always sort of knew when a man was feeling down, and he'd tell one of his funny stories." Verey lights floated up and down the line, making shadow and light play over the wasteland of No Man's Land. He looked up as one seemed to hang in the sky that little bit longer, and he wondered why was he still here. Was it to teach the new chums? Was it because he was too hard to die. He'd led a rough life. Been in all sorts of trouble before he enlisted. Got crimed a couple of times in Egypt. When bullets took those around him, he was never touched. When men got blown apart, not a sliver landed on him. He knew now, what life meant. He had wasted so much of it. For two years he'd watched the good, and the innocent go west. The best of his pals die in agony. Now, on this night of a new year, his punishment for his past deeds, was to sit alone, and listen to the new chums sing Auld Lang Syne, and remember. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
CarylW Posted 27 January , 2007 Share Posted 27 January , 2007 Kim A moving and thought provoking piece Can't come up with anything to match the standard of entries here so I'll just admire everyone else's work Maybe one day Thanks Caryl Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spike10764 Posted 27 January , 2007 Share Posted 27 January , 2007 I enjoyed reading that Kim, very good indeed. Caryl - you never know until you try, go on, have a go.... As the month end approaches-any more entries MGWAT'ers?? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
marina Posted 27 January , 2007 Share Posted 27 January , 2007 Four very good entries so far - but surely there are more to come? Marina Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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