As the shells explode over me, I knew that this war is no joke, in fact it is a terrible hell spawn that only something as hellish as man could create, I have realized that sitting here in this trench killing my brothers for reasons neither of us will ever gain from.The leader I thought would endlessly help me and my family, is not true; he is not a man; he is a coward, a demon, the leader I loved I now can't stand, the thought of two rich men being able to play with human lives, to point their fingers and have men die without any penalty to themselves, they decide who lives who dies who’s a hero who’s a villain yet, it is still my fault. I listened, I heard his vile, despicable call and I answered it; I am more a monster then all the devils in hell put together. I am sitting here in this trench killing innocents, Damn this war, damn me, damn those rich men that don't seem to know death means forever. I go to fight a war that will kill me, kill my fellow soldiers, kill my father and kill my brothers across the ocean, how? Everything seems to be tearing apart, my wife, where is my dear wife, my beautiful Gretl, where is she? Is she still alive the thought of her death shakes me to the core, she cannot die; she simply cannot. How many more days, weeks, years will this war last; will I even be alive and do I have the strength to try?


Is there any form of God or humanity on this field? Are there only animals and devils. Yes, it's obvious we will lose but must you kill us all too? Must they kill everyone I love? Kill me, I don't care anymore. Just don’t kill them. Let me rot in a ditch, for all I care. Shoot me and never let me see the light of day again; it doesn't matter anymore, nothing matters any more. If I could only tell them; I surrender, we surrender, I have been told by my country, death is better but my country no longer exists. All that is left is ruble,death and decay and those rich men don't see. It they don't care.


When I look over the barbed wire and the bodies I see, faces real and fake, I see the faces of my dead friends. I see the faces of my family, the dead faces of my brothers across the ocean who probably only know the surface of the problems in my country but still came because the rich man who runs their country told them to.


December 2nd 1914


There were 3 more today I have been charged with writing to their families. I was told to tell them that they were killed by enemies but I can’t. I must tell the only form of humanity that exists in this book they couldn't take it anymore they took their bayonets off their rifles and did things too horrible for the pages in this book. More and more we are dying. I feel myself fall away into a nothingness worse than anything in Hell they have ready for us. When I walk in this trench, you hear the squish of mud even though it hasn't rained in weeks; the only rain that comes down is the angry red of innocent souls slowly dying. Slipping away to the unknown. It comes from every side, every where. It comes from the earth itself, the entire earth is bleeding, screaming for someone to help it but I don't know who that is. It can't be me, though I will never know the peace needed to repair,heal and comfort this earth. I won't be able to feel peace again. I forever will be here in this trench.


More men have been lost to this monster called war and no more new are coming in, I wonder if there are any men left to fight on this planet. I haven't slept in days. I'm always on night watch, I don't even try. I know sleep will never come and anyways I'd rather it be dead. I can't believe how low I've come to, worse than a dog I am. I have tried to kill myself already but I just don't have the nerve. I try to use the thought of my Gretel to keep me from death but it doesn't work.


December 13 1914

My Gretel is dead; found beneath the rubble of our home. Today was supposed to be our four- year anniversary. I have nothing left to live for.


December 20 1914

Now I feel like this war is all I have left. How can something I despise, that's killing me be the thing I live for, day after day? Is there anything worth living for... Peace I can live for peace and rebuilding, for love and safety and for the memory of Gretel, pretty Gretel, who is up with the angels I know I’ll never see.


December 25 1914

Today was the most fun I've had in so long. I started even though I shouldn't have. I truly met one of my brothers across the ocean. His name is Arthur and he comes from a place called Pennsylvania but I haven't even told you, my dearest book, that's pages know no limit the best part. We came out of that wretched trench and we, everyone. My brother and friends played football, real football. We did not fight. We were true brothers of humanity at least for few hours. I now truly believe peace is on the horizon. I know peace is on the horizon. I never thought I would say that this is and I think will be the most powerful Christmas I'll ever know except for the most holy birth of our savior. I hope this is the beginning of the end.


December 27th 1914
The nightmares are still plaguing me; I can never escape them. I still see the twisted, smoking bodies and hear the deadly, squelching hacking of the gas attacked; the letter I got from my mother-in-law doesn't help my spirit either. The supplies are growing thinner; I think she means they can’t feed us anymore. I wonder if those rich bastards will even try. I've learned they never cared about my country but I do and so do others. I hope and pray that we will rebuild so Germany will be stronger and more united than ever before, if I ever get out of this trench. Everything will be better but I know as well as you do, book of heaven and hell, this damn war will go on. I know it in honesty, no war has ever nor will ever truly end. This war will leave every country involved at odds for decades to come, but still a sense of happiness has been surrounding all of us. My friends are telling jokes again. They are happy; we are happy; I am happy even though my Gretel is gone. I am happy- sad- terribly sad but happy nonetheless, I know my life will never be the same. I know my life will never be as good but maybe something will get better just maybe.


January 9th 1915
The fighting still goes on but no-one really tries to hit each other; although war must go on. For now, I feel a lot better about things but I don't want to live after this. I could never forgive myself for the things I've done; nobody could, and besides what do I have to comeback to? Bodies, graves, ruble, smoke- nothing, I wonder if there are any places not kissed by the scars of war? If there are any then they will be the only jewels left on the smoldering corpse of the earth I am on. I hope I never will come home. Hell would be better than here.


January 6 1915

Children, children are in this war I saw them in the piles of corpses.


January 10 1915

Here is where I must leave you behind dear book and we both know they would burn you and shoot me I hope someone finds this so they know what happened to us the poor German soldiers on the wrong side of god’s war.