This is my recruitment propaganda poster. It depicts two little girls talking together on one side while another girl, Mary, is alone and sad. In the blue text, you can see one of the girls gossiping that Mary's father did not fight in the Great War while the other girl called Mary's dad as a coward. In the bottom, the line guilts someone into enlisting. The reason while I used a black and white photo was because I wished to create a somber mood in order for the hopelessness of the situation to be conveyed correctly. I used red and bold lettering to make the words "coward" and "enlist now" stand out. In that cause, from a distance, the poster can be read as "Coward, Coward, enlist now," which will guilt people and make them feel like a coward for not fighting. The simplicity of the colours keep the focus of the reader on the keywords.
Finally this hell is over. The armistice had been signed on Nov. 11, 1918 and finally, we can all go home. Do you remember the last time we had dinner altogether around the dinner table? What about or plans to paint the study? I cannot wait to see you and the children once again. Oh they must have grown so big by now!
Although it has been several weeks since my last battle, I have not quite adjusted yet. In my dreams, I am still haunted by the exploding shells and bone-chilling screams of terror of my comrades as they died. I can still almost feel hundreds of rats scurrying over me and smell the stench of rotting corpses. I don't know if I can ever recover from the horrors of war. Every night, I wake up screaming at one point or another; I do not remember the last time I have slept for 8 hours straight.
It has been a long while since the armistice has been signed and there has been no news about when we can be transported home. I hope that the wait will not be long. Well, I'm sure the government will not treat us poorly, especially after we sacrificed our lives for our country. When I get home, I look forward to collecting a pension and retiring.
Here in Europe, it is still pretty busy. The hospitals are chaotic at the moment. Everyone who are in good condition are lending a hand. I heard that the Germans have accepted full responsibility for causing the war and will be paying for all the damage. Something called a War Guilt Clause? I say that that is the least they could do! I'm sure that after the hell we have been through in the past 5 years, the Great War will be the last war in the history of humankind.
I hope that you have been taking good care of yourself, Melenar. Please tell the kids that I miss them. I reckon that it will be just a few more days before I return.
Everywhere I go these days, all I see is propaganda. No matter how hard I try to ignore the posters, the powerful pictures evoke so many emotions from me. There seems to be a few categories that every single poster fits into: victory bonds, recruitment, Red Cross, and women's roles.
The government encourages citizens to buy victory bonds so that the government can use the money earned from the sales towards the war effort. The government promises to return the loan with interest to the citizens that have purchased victory bonds after winning the war.
After people stopped volunteering to fight for Canada, the government started creating more recruitment propaganda in order to convince more people to join the army. They usually promise glory and adventure or they guilt a person into joining.
Other propaganda posters promote a cause by making people sympathize with it.
It seems as though everywhere we look, we are being told by the government how to act or what to feel. I am not exactly sure how I feel about propaganda. I certainly do wonder if it will still be the same in the future.
It shocks me how the a woman's role has changed over the past few years. From homemakers, they have suddenly became nurses, factory workers, sales people, mechanics and even spies! Women were doing everything they could to help out with the war effort.
Lots of women worked as nurses overseas. Their duties included scrubbing and disinfecting rooms, organizing baths for soldiers, driving ambulances, running soup kitchens and treating patients. They could be found almost anywhere: behind the front lines, in Army hospitals, on trains and on transport ships. Sometimes, these women were wounded and died overseas.
Women also started serving in the army, navy and air forces although they were not taken very seriously. Besides piloting, women also worked as mechanics in the air force. There had been many recruiting posters such as this:
Back at home, women started working in jobs that were traditionally dominated by men. Besides working as seamstresses, women were now working in ammunition factories, operating power machines, and in farms. One noticeable difference, however, was that women were getting paid considerably low wages compared to men working the same jobs. Perhaps that may change in the future.
Another interesting change is that somehow, women have obtained the right to vote. I never thought that it would be possible for the law to be changed.
While I am still trying to come in terms with such changes, I must admit that women are more capable than most make them out to be.
I don't know how to tell you this but I have been going in and out of the hospital for a while now because of a recurring infection. Do not worry, I am alright. There are so many more people worse of than I am at the hospitals. I see people without limbs either because they have been blown off by explosions or because the doctors had to amputate them. Pretty much all men in the hospitals fit under one of four categories: gas injuries, shell shock, diseases or wounds.
Injuries caused by poison gases are painful. The gases cause skin to blister, sores and internal and external bleeding. A person's lungs would fill up with fluid and the person will die suffocating. Because of the lack of hygiene, most cuts get infected and there is little the doctors could do. Influenza, intestinal flu and trench foot are all commonly seen diseases and again, the doctors and nurses are limited in what they could do.
However, sometimes soldiers suffer from mental illness rather than physical. While some soldiers adjust to living among rats, rotting corpses and exploding shells, others do not and they suffer from the mental illness known as "shell shock." This causes patients to be hysterical, disoriented, paralyzed and incapable of following orders. Again, there was little the doctors could due to address these issues.
Also, one thing I noticed was that there was a shortage of doctors and that medical workers work at least 14-hour shifts in order to address the large amounts of soldiers being brought in all the time.
I can only hope to maintain my good health so that I may see you and our boys some time soon in the future.
Forgive me for not writing to you for the past year. I had been captured by the Germans as a prisoner of war. We were taken to a camp (I think they called it a "mannschaftslager") that was surrounded by a barbed wire fence that was 3 metres high. The camp was made of barracks that were made of wood and covered with tar on the outside. I estimated that each barrack was around 10 metres wide and 50 metres long, big enough to house around 250 prisoners. We slept on straw or sawdust beds.
During the day, we were all put to work. Everybody dreaded working in the mines or swamp but I was lucky enough to do agricultural labour. There were quotas set but otherwise, agricultural labour was quite easy. Food at the camp was not constant. Usually it was some soup made with beans, codfish, prunes, beets or oats. Sometimes, we receive food parcels from the Red Cross.
One thing about the camps is that there was almost always someone sick. The hygiene there was severely lacking and living together in such close proximity with so many people allowed for typhus and cholera to spread quickly. I was, again, one of the lucky ones who had only suffered from a few common colds.
You may be wondering how I had "escaped" from the camps but truthfully, the armistice signed on Nov. 11, 1918 guaranteed the release of prisoners of war. At this time, there has been an agreement to ceasefire and I shall wait here until arrangements have been made for me to come back home to you.
Do you believe in that there is a god? Growing up, I remember going to church with my parents every Sunday to listen to Father Augustine's sermons, saying my prayers before every meal and before going to bed, and always counting my blessings until I fell asleep. But here, whether I am digging tunnels to the enemy trenches or fighting in the front lines, no matter how much I pray, the God that promised to never leave his people refuses to show his face. Where is God now? Where is God when my comrades are blown into smithereens by the German artillery? Where is God when my brothers in arm are riddled with enemy bullets?! WHERE IS HE NOW?
Let me tell you, Melenar, there is no god.
There was no god when our division was ordered to capture Vimy Ridge when even the British and the French had failed. There was no god when the officers knowingly thousands of men were sent charging into the endless barrage of German bullets. And there was definitely no god when the officers decided to take this mission, expecting failure!
The Battle of Vimy Ridge was supposed to commence on Apr. 8 but was postponed a day. It was storming when we started creeping into our positions and as uncomfortable as it was, the storm provided cover for us. at exactly 0530 hours, all our artillery started firing and 30 seconds after, all of us engineers detonated the mines in No Man's Land and the ones planted under enemy trenches. I could not tell at the time but after the battle, we were told that the mines we had planted had destroyed a few German strong points. Immediately after that, hell broke loose and everything was a blur for the next three days. In the end, we managed to capture Vimy Ridge at enormous costs. Around 10 000 Canadian soldiers were wounded or killed and the number was still increasing. Needless to say, after experiencing that nightmare, there was no way anyone could try to persuade me that God existed. Not when my best friend that I had been eating with and fighting with the previous day is now dead. Not when body limbs are scattered all around us, detached from their bodies. Not when corps were littered across the field without care. No way.
Tell me now, Melenar, do you still believe in a god?
What if I told you that we fought for 10 days at Passchendaele in order to gain 7 kilometres of muddy land? What if more than 15 000 men died for these 7 kilometres? And that this was what we called "a victory"? That's right, more than 15 000 Canadian soldiers died in 10 days to gain 7 kilometres of muddy land. Where is your God, Melenar?
Honestly, I have experienced hell in the past few months and there is no other "underworld." I'll be punished for my sins, you say? By whom, I reply? By whom?
There is no god to punish me and if there was, he has forsaken us. Do not preach to me about your god, Melenar. I have no use for such nonsense. I have seen atrocities here that you cannot even fathom. I am losing my mind. Just drop it.
I hope you have been well. The boys too. Do not not bother praying for me.
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