Many of the soldiers who served in the trenches in the First World War were not much older than people in a modern sixth form. None had experienced anything like it before, and a large number of men kept diaries or accounts of their life at the front. Some of the accounts have been made into books and films which tell us about conditions on the Western Front. We can also read the diaries themselves and can look at old photographs.
 

Lets start with what it was like to get up in the morning in the trenches:
 

Remember that most big attacks took place just before dawn, so the time when most people are still in bed was one of the most difficult times for the soldiers. George Coppard gives us this description:

It may be said that the day really began at stand- to. Past experience had shown that the danger period for attack was at dawn and dusk, when the attacker, having the initiative, could see sufficiently to move forward and cover a good distance before being spotted. About half an hour or so before dawn and dusk the order 'Stand -to' was given and silently passed throughout the length of the battalion front. In this way, the whole Allied front line system became alerted. Sleepers were roused, and the front trenches were speedily manned ready for any move by the enemy. Sentries stood on raised fire steps, peering over the parapet across no- man's land, towards Jerry's lines. The rest of the lads quietly relaxed as they puffed at a pipe or fag, but no matches were used in darkness. A simple taper which sparked off a thick corded wick into a smouldering glow was a popular substitute for matches ... Suddenly a German machine-gun pre- set before darkness to fire on our parapet, lets rip a devilish traverse [a wide sweep of machine gun fire across a definite section of the enemy's trenches] which skims the topmost sandbags. Dirt is flung into the faces and foul language seethes through everyone's lips - the bastard. Not far off a Vickers gun [a British machine gun with a rapid rate of fire] returns the hate at an appreciably faster tempo as it shoots a hundred rounds or so across no-man's land. Although there is no special cause for alarm, intermittent rifle fire develops, as if to let jerry know we are wide awake and it's no bloody use his starting anything. jerry responds likewise, for it is the morning hate ... When daylight came the order 'Stand down' passed along the line. Tension slackened but sentries still kept watch by Breakfast in ruins.

 ... It was time for breakfast and each section made its own little fire. Charcoal was the official fuel, but supplies were few and far between. Plundering for wood was a regular chore, but we never failed to produce a fire, shivering [splintering] the wood with bayonets or jack knives to reduce the smoke. Soon the pungent whiff-of bacon wafted around and life seemed good when billycans were filled with a fresh brew of tea.
 

 A different start to the day is described in the poem 'Breakfast' by Wilfred Gibson:

We ate our breakfast lying on our backs
Because the shells were screeching overhead..
I bet a rasher to a loaf of bread
That Hull United would beat Halifax
When Jimmy Stainthorpe played full-back instead of Billy Bradford.
Ginger raised his head
And cursed, and took the bet, and dropt back dead.
We ate our breakfast lying on our backs
Because the shells were screeching overhead.
 

Picture of a Field Kitchen
 
 

 Hot food was difficult to prepare near the front line. Water was often short. The standard rations were corned beef ('bully beef) and hard biscuits. A soldier remembered: Many times we had only one slice of bread for breakfast and biscuits for tea. these were so hard you bad to smash them with a stone.

Food was issued from field kitchens which were brought as close to the front as possible. Rum was often issued before the men took part in an attack.
 
 
 

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