March 17, 1916
Dear Father and Mother,
Being a nurse in the war isn't easy. Soldiers are being brought in every minute. Some are brought in missing an arm or leg. Others suffering from the terrible poison gas, constantly in agony. Every day I hear machine guns, rolling like thunder, shooting our men. I would give anything to go out there and help Germany fight off the French at the western front. Alas, I cannot. I am a nurse and must tend to the wounded.
The front has gotten crowded with dead corpses. I was sent only once to the trenches to amputate a foot. When I was there, I saw dead all around me. Bodies on top of bodies, with rats eating their skin and organs like a bear eats its prey. The smell of rotting bodies mixed with smoke from bombs filled the air. Puddles and streams of blood and rain flowed throughout the trenches. Two soldiers escorted me to a bunker where I was to take away a young man's feet. The bunker wasn't too big. It had four bunk beds and a cot in the middle. The