Trench Life

The Trenches of the Western Front, that's one of the things we remember the most of the First World War. There's a good reason why.

It was a living hell.

Gas Attacks
Shell Fire
Raiding parties
Mud
Lice
Rats
Bodies half buried
Boredom

The daily routine of the trench began with stand to. An hour before dawn, men were roused from sleep and ordered to stand, with bayonets fixed, to guard against a raiding party. When stand to ended, the men were set to cleaning their rifles for morning inspection. A breakfast of bully beef, bread and biscuits was served. After this, NCO's assigned chores to the men, which usually included filling sandbags or maintaining the trenches. After the daily chores were completed, the men had some time for other matters. Some wrote letters home, some chatted with other soldiers, some read, others tried to sleep. Enemy snipers constantly watched for any signs movement in the trenches.


Soldiers shave

At dusk, stand to was repeated. As snipers could not easily see at night, trenches became much more active. Men were sent to the rear for rations and water, supplies were brought in more maintenance was carried out. Men were assigned sentry duty, which typically lasted two hours before they were relieved.

Patrols were often sent out under the cover of darkness. Some were tasked with repairing barbed wire or setting up listening posts. Sometimes enemy patrols would encounter each other in No Man's Land.

The next morning, the same routine began again.


Soldiers de-lice their clothes

There were many other problems faced by men in the trenches then just enemy shells. Trenches routinely became flooded due to rain. Although they were drained daily, the water and mud never quite went away. This gave rise to the incidents of trench foot.



Lice to was a huge problem, and many men suffered from what was known as "trench fever." It wasn't until, 1918, though, that the medical authorities maid the link between the fever and the lice.

Isaac Rosenberg captured the unpleasantness of lice in his poem "The Immortals."

I killed them, but they would not die.
Yea! all the day and all the night
For them I could not rest or sleep,
Nor guard from them nor hide in flight.

Then in my agony I turned
And made my hands red in their gore.
In vain - for faster than I slew
They rose more cruel than before.

I killed and killed with slaughter mad;
I killed till all my strength was gone.
And still they rose to torture me,
For Devils only die in fun.

I used to think the Devil hid
In women’s smiles and wine’s carouse.
I called him Satan, Balzebub.
But now I call him, dirty louse.