Letter To Ww1 Soldier

Dearest Soldier, My name is Paul Bäumer and I am fighting for Germany in Second Company Troop Nine. I am now twenty years old; yet I know hardly anything other than despair, death, fear, misery, and sorrow My life has become nothing but killing others while watching my closest comrades perish in the process. We are very similar individuals, except at this point in the war your morale, number of troops, weaponry, and technology far surpass mine. Germany is losing: everyone knows this, including yourself and the country you are fighting for so desperately and feverishly. I remember what it was like when I and the rest of my fellow soldiers were first deployed. We were naïve, young, inexperienced, and ignorant to the world and the horrors of war. No man should watch another die the way I have

It is impossible to ever return to the life one once had after experiencing the gore and pain of the Front. It is now late September of 1918. All of my hope is gone, and I know that dehumanization and death are imminent. I welcome the idea of death. Most of my closest friends are dead, most of my troop and company is dead, most of Germany’s forces are dead. I am so alone in this war that I am fully ready to face Death with open arms. I remember how it used to be, trying to avoid Death at all costs. We were scared our first few times at the Front, but our troop quickly adjusted and we hardened against the brutality of battles we witnessed. We grew thicker skin and the Front became our dysfunctional home. I can remember the countless missions to the Front, setting barbed wire to slow the enemy, seeking the enemy’s position, and leading offensive attacks. The ground came alive all around us as bombs and machine gun fire showered down around us. I remember Detering’s sensitivity to the wounded horses that ran by us, tripping on their own guts that were spilling out of their abdomen. I can see the offensive attacks we