Groeten van het slagveld
Eén soldaat bestaat niet, hij kan per definitie alleen bestaan in een collectief. Zijn particuliere bestaan kent geen nut, slechts in het collectief krijgt zijn handelen relevantie. Zijn dromen, voorkeuren en ideeën verdwijnen achter zijn uniform teneinde samen met alle andere soldaten een regiment, een bataljon, een leger te vormen. Zo vormt een leger een daadkrachtig geheel dat door haar collectieve discipline de fysieke veiligheid van de geüniformeerde individuen beter kan garanderen en daarmee ook de overwinning.
Maar onder de helm blijft de soldaat een denkend wezen vol twijfels en onpraktische gedachten die hem overvallen zo gauw de dwingende hand van de officier en het sturende ritme van de mars hem achterlaten met zichzelf. Op zo’n moment wil de soldaat meestal liever niet alleen zijn. Hij wil zich verbonden weten met de dingen die hem uniek maken, zijn vrienden en familie. Zo’n soldaat zal dan willen delen in wat hem bezig houd en schrijven naar de mensen thuis.
France
Monday September 10, 1917
My Dearest Mamma,
I haven’t been able to write you for about 12 days as we have been on the move, and went into action for the first time on XXXXX 1917. (censor erased).
Am writing this in the gun pit on my knee. Our gun pit is the best one of the 6. We have very good dug outs, about 30 feet deep, which we loose no time in getting into when the enemy start their dirty work. We spent about an hour in the dugout yesterday while Fritz was dropping them within 50 yards of us. So far there have been no casualties in this Battery. It seems quite funny to be living below the surface all the time. There’s one long communication trench that connects up all the guns etc.
Our sleeping accommodations, in the dugouts, is very much better than at the wagon lines, where the horses are kept.. We go back there for a rest after being on duty up here for a couple of weeks. Our meals are just as regular as at Whitley, and everything is better than we expected. I heard from Herbert last week, but no word of Norman yet, he must be in England , now.
I was on guard at 9 PM which must been 3 PM in Barbados on Sept. 4th, and thought of all that must have been going on. Hope to get full account of it. ( his sister, Leila’s wedding to Jack Badley)
I can’t write very much news as it’s not allowed. ( what I’d like to say) only that I never felt in better health and that means a lot, as we get very little sleep as that’s the time one knows there’s a war on. ( Enemy shelling at nite).
Lots of Love and kisses from your affectionate son,
Bertie
Arme Bertie zou nog meer dan een jaar aan het front verblijven, bombardementen en koude Kerstmissen (a rotter to the core) doorslaand. Hij zou blijven schrijven naar zijn familie maar daarbij altijd de zelf censuur toepassen om geen waardevolle informatie te verklappen. De brieven van de enkeling konden de levens van de vele in gevaar brengen, een probleem dat sinds de posterijen bestaat.
Tegenwoordig bestaan er echter meer manieren waarop een soldaat zijn hart kan luchten en in Irak hebben de manschappen naast de brief en telefoon ook het internet tot hun beschikking. En ook daar dient men voorzichtig te zijn. Het Amerikaanse leger probeert haar bloggende mannen en vrouwen zowel vrij te laten als te beperken in hun mogelijkheden om onbedoeld gevoelige informatie te verklappen aan een vijand die ook op het internet actief is. Toch blijft er veel interessants over om te lezen. Deze soldaat vertelt over hoe zijn dag begon:
After a few minutes our First Sergeant came in and shut the door. He wore a terrible expression on his face. We all knew what was coming, just wondering who. And sure enough the words came from his mouth. “I just wanted to put out to you guys before the rumors got started. Today SGT Tollett was out with the CO and was shot in the head. He didn’t make it.”
The room became a dungeon of fear, anger, sorrow and pain. I couldnt believe what I had just heard. I had just seen him right before he had left and had talked with him briefly. How, why could this of happened? What happened? So many questions, but the same end result. One of our fellow soldiers, a brother in arms, and a friend, lost his life. We wern’t particularly close, but I had come to be friends with him durring this deployment. I know people have nothing but good things about people after they’re death, but this man truely was a great man. He was loved by everone in the company, and probably the worst guy to have ever died from our company here. And I truely mean that from the depths of my soul.
This really put things in to persepective. There wasn’t much that could have been done in the situation to of prevented this. It was a lucky stary round that had found had hit in a lethal spot. It could have been anyone else. Thats the sad thing about war. Theres never knowing who or when or what or how. It simply comes down to if its your time or not. And even though we all come over here knowing that this is war, and this is a real possibility here, it still caught everyone off guard. Until that day, noone from our unit had been killed. Im sure others, as well as I held on to that slight hope that all of us would somehow make it home from this place. Maybe I was naive to believe this, but I, as well as everyone else now know the true cost and its not something that can be measured in dollars, or planes or time.
All I know now is that there is a score to be settled. This now became more personal that it ever was, and I feel sorry for the future SOBs that cross our path.
Voor meer brieven uit de Eerste Wereldoorlog:
Het BBC archief
Uit Canadese archieven
Voor meer militaire blogs uit Irak en Afganistan:
Milblogging met een overzicht van alle soldatenblogs
Meer over ‘1916 - De Somme’:
- Bekijk de hele uitzending ‘1916 - De Somme’
- Lees alle weblogberichten over 1916
- Vind meer video, audio en artikelen op de In Europa Atlas: 1916
