January 22nd 1915
I’m back in the trenches today. This one isn’t so bad though, it’s a bit more elaborate than some of the other ones I’ve been in before, which is just a hole with build up of mud around it. It smells terrible. There’s a strong stench of rotting bodies that are all over the trench, reminding us how easily it is to be killed if we don’t pay attention for more than a second. There were also rats everywhere, scurrying in the mud and water. Fighting and searching us for food. It’s very cold at this time of the year. Quiet a few men have trench foot. I do too, but it’s not as bad as some others. Their feet are so swollen that I swear it’s about the size of their heads. We get it from these poor conditions. When it’s all wet and cold. This will be my home for the next few days, where I will be writing down my thoughts, eating, sleeping, and fighting. I’ll be here till we all shuffle to the second line of trenches. Then hopefully, I’ll soon be able to get back to the reserve and get some sleep. I don’t get much there either but it’s better than here. It isn’t very comfortable anywhere. The cold, damp muddy conditions with rats aren’t all of it. There are also some horrible diseases and cooties. I can feel the lice on me. It’s such a pain. Oh, the pounding headache I have right now. It doesn’t help that the gun fires are so loud as well. The sun’s almost set and thank God that there hasn’t been any shell attacks so far. Those are the worst. The gas spreading everywhere and there’s no where to escape to. I only pray that if one happens, my gasmask will be working or that could be the end. So far, the officers hasn’t ordered an advance. That’s something many of us fear. It’s when we travel up to no man’s land. There, we are in the open and can easily be killed. Especially with all the new machine guns. Going to no man’s land is almost a certain death for everyone. Even if you were at a very high rank. 
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