War Journals 2.1.15. - Ernst Jünger

2.1.15.

The next morning we were detailed. I was assigned to the 9th Company. We then lay down for a while in the school of the village. Suddenly there was a crash [two to three letters deleted, illegible] quite close to us. Soldiers ran out of all the houses into the street. Then it whistled three times close over us. Everyone laughed and no one ran, but everyone bowed their heads. A few moments later, the first troopers were carried in on canvas tents. The first one I saw was covered in blood and shouted a hoarse, choked cry to help, to help. The second had his leg hanging loosely from his thigh. Nine men were killed, including the music director Gebhardt. There was talk of espionage, as our village had only been fired upon yesterday. We stood behind an embankment at the village for a long time and then went back inside. I passed the portal of the castle afterwards. A shell had hit the left corner. Several large pools of blood reddened the street and brains stuck to the pillar. The heavy iron door was shredded at the top and pierced by c. 50 pieces. A perforated helmet and field cap lay underneath. A sign hung amusingly above: "To the grenade corner." We stayed in the village during the day and in the evening we marched into firing position. Our way led us through a completely shot-up village, then we came to the so-called pheasantry, a farmstead that housed the reserve for the trenches. There we were told to "load and secure" and then we continued forward. It took at least 20 minutes through long connecting trenches. To the right and left would be desolate shell fields, one blast funnel next to the other. Finally we were at the outermost trench. Partly we lay in the narrow holes in the ground during the night, partly we kept watch by the guns. There was little shooting, but it was incessant. Once a bullet whistled over our heads. I had to stand guard for three hours, an outpost. Priepke made a patrol up to the enemy's wire entanglement in order to pin an encouragement to defectors there. I had two hours of outpost and two hours of trench guard.

3.1.15
In the morning I went for coffee from the field kitchen, which had moved into the pheasant house. We then slept in the main position, in a trench behind the front line. The trench in front of us came under heavy fire, shells bursting 50-100 metres from our position, but I did not let my sleep be disturbed. In the evening we returned to our firing position. The small grave in the forest behind us received several shots from the fort's cannon, we could see sparks flying from the fuse. An officer's second-in-command, a non-commissioned officer and a private went forward with rifle grenades; when they fired the first one it exploded in front of the muzzle, wounding all three, the non-commissioned officer very seriously.

4.1.15.
I am writing this in a very developed earth pit, 150 yards from the enemy trench. Every now and then a shell from the enemy or our own side flies past. Unfortunately we don't see any French here or we'd get our asses kicked too. The forward guns are firing at Granville and our artillery is firing at the village on the hill, from which black steam is already rising. No more than 80 yards in front of us lay 6-8 dead Frenchmen, about two months old. The outstretched limbs, dressed in red trousers and blue coats, look strange; through my glass I can see the ashy, almost black colour of decomposition on the face of one of them. The French battery is now moving towards the German battery, which is silent and then opens fire again. It then erupts again in four or five different places. I then smoke a cigarette with Pripke and we seem to see a Frenchman at the back of the field. I shoot first with a 1200 sight, then with a 1600 sight and Priepke with another sight. Then we have to stop firing or else we get ironclad from the fort. I am very interested to see what a shrapnel shot looks like. The war in general seemed to me more horrible than it really is. The sight of people torn apart by shells left me utterly cold, as did all the explosions, although on several occasions I heard the very close singing of bullets. Generally, what makes me most uncomfortable is the cold and dampness in our dens. As I write this, I am under [d, strikeout] a canopy of wet straw, it is raining, and there are already several centimetres of water in the trench. In a moment we will be back on guard. You have been soaking wet for days and you are not indoors. I wonder when the inevitable [rest of the line rejected, probably: Rheu]| matism will happen. Hopefully it won't get any worse. In the evening we returned to the reserve position of La Faisanderie. La Faisanderie is a farm behind a small forest on the mountain. Although it is in close proximity to the burn, it is still completely intact. I have heard that it is because it [word crossed out, unintelligible] belongs to a French general. Opposite us is a colonel with a battery. At night we had to, while dog… [beginning of line omitted, probably: tired] to fortify 11-41, we were deepening the running trench, [one word crossed out, illegible] Then we were hanging in a more feudal, pit-like trench, which had a terrible stench.