Person on the Street Report

Some of my worst memories from the war involve the trench warfare. The stench from the dead and rotting bodies was unimaginable. Endless landscapes of mud, barbed wire, and shell holes remain a clear memory. Rats came in swarms around the dead bodies. Enemies would hit us with mustard gas. It killed many of us. We broke out in hives, couldn't breath. It was a nightmare. Boredom was constant. Sometimes for days we would sit and do nothing in the lice-ridden, hellhole. We would attempt to pass the time by making our own humor magazines. We came up with the word "dud"-a shell that landed but didn't explode. But this was no laughing matter. Thousands of men were mutilated by the delayed explosion. Often times I still have nightmares of those times.