OT: Life in the Trenches, A New Respect

[RAF_Louvert 101]

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This weekend I garnered a newfound respect and sympathy for the Poor Bloody Infantry in WWI. I had to repair a leak in the water line running from our well to the house, and since my family and I live in Minnesota, said waterline is located about six-and-a-half feet below ground, (to avoid the deep winter frosts we get in this region). With the help of my daughter’s boyfriend on Saturday, we dug down at the spot where I knew the leak to be, (and I knew this due to a damp spot in the middle of the yard that had been coming and going all summer). Once we were within a foot or so of the pipe we had water standing in the hole so I went in search of a portable pump while my helper took off, leaving me to fend for myself, (he had other plans for the remainder of the weekend). After returning with the pump it was getting rather late in the day so I decided I would wait until Sunday to finish up the job and hoped that perhaps the pit would be relatively drained by then all on it’s own. It was not. Even with the water shut off the line pressure had continued to pump water into the hole. I further discovered that the portable pump I had secured proved nearly worthless, as it could not keep up with the water streaming from the ruptured pipe: Nothing for it but to climb down into the pit and work in 20” of icy cold water. I cleared the last few inches of mud and clay from around the pipe and easily found the leak, which turned out to be no larger than a pencil tip, caused be corrosion from a rock that had been sitting against the pipe for the last 30-some years, (keep in mind I learned all this strictly by ‘feel’ since it was impossible to see through the thick brown water). Back up out of the trench and into my shop I went, to grab a chunk of urethane boat repair tape, a slice of thin rubber matting, and three stainless steel hose clamps, then back down into the muck. Again, working strictly by feel, I pushed the urethane into the rupture, wrapped the rubber around it, then proceeded to place and tighten the hose clamps. And the stream of water stopped.

 

With the heart of the job done my mind was now free to wander. I noticed just how cold the water was that I had been squatting and working in, realizing I could no longer feel my feet or my hands; I studied the damp, ragged, clay walls that surrounded me and watched as the occasional chunk would lose its grip and plop into the slurry below; I looked up at the pile of dirt that bordered along three sides of the pit opening, causing it to feel even deeper than it already was; I saw the sun slanting into the hole, barely making it two feet down even at midday, and offering no warmth whatsoever. I suddenly noted I could hear shotgun fire coming from the sportsman's club two miles from town, (no doubt local hunters getting ready for the upcoming pheasant opener). “My God,” I thought to myself. “This must have been what it was like in Flanders in the trenches in the wet months…only a thousand times worse!” What those men must have endured simply staggers the imagination. I crawled out of my ‘trench’ and went into the mudroom of my nice cozy home, stripped out of my wet filthy gear, and took a long hot shower, after which I put on warm dry clothes, wrapped up in a blanket, and had a hot cup of coffee as the feeling returned to my extremities. I am so very lucky.

 

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[Hasse Wind 46]

Yes, it must have been pretty bad at the worst of times. Of course as time went on they gradually improved the trench systems, so that men didn't have to crawl in cold mud all the time. But if you were unlucky enough to be stationed in a particularly busy sector of the front, the artillery fire kept ruining the trenches. In Flanders it was even worse, because the soil there became extremely muddy so easily.

 

Trench foot (Don't Google it if you are a sensitive person!) was a very common problem, leading often into amputations. It could have been easily prevented with the correct kind of boots (rubber), but it seems that the majority of men who fought in the trenches never had anything better than leather shoes or boots that are not very good at keeping the feet dry.

[UK_Widowmaker 571]

Mix that with Rats running everywhere...headlice infestation...and sharing latrines!...yuk!

 

Edited September 26, 2011 by UK_Widowmaker

[Hauksbee 103]

In Flanders it was even worse, because the soil there became extremely muddy so easily.

When you say 'Flanders', you're basically talking about Holland, most of which is below sea level. Dig a hole, any hole, and you'll strike water.

[Shiloh 12]

Ahhh...the wonders of home-ownership Lou! That sounded like an awful experience but sometimes we have to be uncomfortable in this life lest we forget how much we value comfort. That lad can't be scoring many points right now leaving you to your own devices in the middle of a job.

 

I went on a photo shoot at the Gettysburg battlefield 2 weekends ago and it rained on me early in the morning even though the forecast said 0% chance of rain. I didn't have the right shoes on and my feet were a wet, dirty, stinking mess all day and it was miserable not to be able to keep my feet dry but I had a job to do.

Edited September 26, 2011 by Shiloh

[UK_Widowmaker 571]

God yeah...Nothing worse than wet feet for making you feel utterly miserable

[Hasse Wind 46]

If it's cold and your feet are wet most of the time, it doesn't take long for serious injuries to develop. It can happen in a few hours, depending on weather conditions.

[Creaghorn 10]

nice story. sometimes it's the little things like that which makes you appreciate the comfort you have.

reminds me of a game two weeks ago. it was very dull and rainy. just borderline for beeing rained out. so actually bad enough for beeing totally wet and muddy, but too good for beeing canceled (damn germans who consider bad weather way differently then i do lol). especially the dirt at homeplate was totally puddled and muddy. i was forced to ignore the weather as much as possible. on every move or throw i wether slipped away or got caught in the mud. my helmet caught the rain and collected it to drop everything from above into my face. after the game i was covered with mud completely and was soaked wet to the bones. the equippment was two times heavier than usual. the hot shower afterwards was very well appreciated. but i also imagined how it would be to stay in such weather for a long time without beeing able to change clothes etc. simply beeing outside and beeing forced to ignore the weather.

[Slartibartfast 153]

Being a biker and ex military being cold and wet... sort of goes together, when I rode home to the UK end of June got caught in a rainstorm for 3 hours near Regensburg Germany (For those who don't speak German Regen is Rain and Burg Mountain) yup I got wet as I found out under a bridge that my waterproofs where back in Vienna 400Km's or so away... Had to ride on as I was miles/km's from anywhere on the Autobahn... for 3 hours I got soaked my leathers where soaked and I pretty much stayed that way for the day... until I got to Ghent in Belgium... a damp soggy day. As to the Trench stuff I know about it due to my basic training and advanced training when we made a basic mistake that meant our hide was soaked through in 15 minutes all the kit etc and we couldn't light any fires etc as it would give us away... damn that was a cold cold cold 48 hours though we did get warm afterwards... running away from an "enemy" patrol... must explain why I creak so much... of to get more liquid lubrication

Edited September 26, 2011 by Slartibartfast

[UK_Widowmaker 571]

Yes Slarti...I have quite a few friends who are ex-Squaddies...with similar tales of ghastlyness...many are damaged, physically too...which leads me to thinking, Why the hell would anyone join the Army on a voluntary basis?.... Me..I can't think of anything worse!

Edited September 26, 2011 by UK_Widowmaker

[Hasse Wind 46]

The smart guys go to artillery, like I did. Much more comfortable to drive around in a truck.

[Slartibartfast 153]

Yes Slarti...I have quite a few friends who are ex-Squaddies...with similar tales of ghastlyness...many are damaged, physically too...which leads me to thinking, Why the hell would anyone join the Army on a voluntary basis?.... Me..I can't think of anything worse!

For me the answer is old fashioned and some would say corny...

 

Queen and Country. (NOT POLITICIANS OR THOSE WHO SUPPORT THEM THOUGH) sorry about the caps.

 

Decision was made when I was a youngster according to family...

[TSmoke 2]

Hmm join the Army see the world. That's all fine and dandy, it's just some of the little details they leave out. Live in the bush for 30 days with just one change of duds, go camping in the winter when it's -25 to 40C like it is here all bloody winter. Little s$%t like that. Mind you if I had to do it all over again I probably would. Like they say there is no life like it.

[CaptSopwith 22]

I've often felt I would acquire a greater appreciation for what trench life was like if I were to volunteer for a few days of re-enactment. Living in a trench, sleeping in the cold, it has to be bloody awful - and that's when you aren't being bombed, shot at, or gassed...

 

The ability of the human mind to comprehend such things... I wonder if we ever truly will.

[RAF_Louvert 101]

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I was a very avid camper and backpacker in my younger days. The winter before I joined the US Air Force I did a two-week remote trek into the Boundary Waters Wilderness Area, which straddles the Minnesota-Canada border. I snow-shoed in by myself with a pack and a small tent and did not see another person for the entire fourteen days. Deer and wolves, and even a moose and a cougar, but no other people. There is nothing more soul-stirring than sitting on the edge of a frozen lake at night, miles from nowhere; in front of a small campfire; back against an ancient pine forest; full moon hanging in a crystalline star-filled sky above, with the northern lights practically dancing on the tree tops; and the only sounds are the crackling of the camp fire and the howl of a wolf. After that experience, there was honestly nothing the service could throw at me that I could not handle.

 

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[Olham 164]

A touching description, Lou.

The ancient people like the "red Indians" sent out every young man at a certain age,

to spend such lonesome time in the wilderness, until he would dream about his "medicine" -

whatever it would be - he would know it.

The Asian zen experience also comes to mind there. My favourite Japanese zen master

said, his "enlightenment" happened with the caw of a crow.

 

We hardly ever have these moments in our lives, these moments of singularity amidst nature.

[UK_Widowmaker 571]

 

We hardly ever have these moments in our lives, these moments of singularity amidst nature.

 

thats because we have distanced ourselves from it...but, not to worry...when the Oil runs out..we'll all be right back there!

[Creaghorn 10]

nice story lou,

there is the saying that beeing alone in a desert is beeing closest to god. i think generally the lonesome time away from civilisation is the time one is nearest to god and transcendial moments. that's the time where you maybe start to talk to yourself. maybe loud, maybe in your head. and all of a sudden after a while you realize that it's not you answering. it's not your thought but somebody elses. call it meditation or insanity or whatever.

[RAF_Louvert 101]

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Olham, in the region I winter camped the local tribe is the Bois Forte Band of Chippewa (Ojibwe). In their native language they are called 'Zagaakwaandagowininiwag', which translates to "Men of the Thick Fir Woods". They believe, as do many of the bands in our area, that an animal which is seen four or more times in your dreams is your personal spirit guide.

 

Widowmaker, we most definitely distance ourselves from nature, and I believe that is one of the things that will lead to our ultimate undoing.

 

Creaghorn, I agree completely. Solitude, real solitude, allows you to connect to the universe, God, the astral plane, whatevere you choose to call it. Once a person has honestly made that connection they are changed forever, IMHO.

 

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[Hasse Wind 46]

You didn't see the Bigfoot while camping, Lou?

 

Who knows what's living in those huge wooded areas of North America, far from human civilization.

[Olham 164]

The dark forrests are inhabited by more creatures of our phantasies, than by real living ones.

[Capitaine Vengeur 263]

For me the answer is old fashioned and some would say corny...

 

Queen and Country. (NOT POLITICIANS OR THOSE WHO SUPPORT THEM THOUGH) sorry about the caps.

 

Decision was made when I was a youngster according to family...

"A soldier does not think. He only obeys. Do you really think that if a soldier thought twice he'd give his life for queen and country? Not bloody likely." (Sean Connery in The Man who would be King)

[Bullethead 12]

With the heart of the job done my mind was now free to wander. I noticed just how cold the water was that I had been squatting and working in, realizing I could no longer feel my feet or my hands; I studied the damp, ragged, clay walls that surrounded me and watched as the occasional chunk would lose its grip and plop into the slurry below; I looked up at the pile of dirt that bordered along three sides of the pit opening, causing it to feel even deeper than it already was

 

I enjoyed your story (especially because it was you down in the mud and not me)

 

However, as a trench rescue specialist, I have some safety concerns should you ever have to do this sort of thing again. From your description, it appears that you didn't use any shoring on the trench walls, so they were free to collapse on you. And their tendency to do so was aggravated by the long-term wetness of the ground from the leak and by piling the dirt close to the edge of the hole. Since you lived, I guess the air at the bottom wasn't too bad, but dirt can easily give off enough of both toxic and oxygen-excluding gases to put you down.

 

Anyway, no harm done, and you dodged a bullet you never knew was fired at you. But do be more careful next time. If my picture of your trench is correct, it was an extremely dangerous place and you're lucky to be here. Sure, folks get away with similar things all the time, but there isn't much of a safety margin. And remember, "trench rescue" is a misnomer. It really should be "trench recovery" because the odds of surviving a collapse are very slim, and of course there's the possibility of bad air even if the trench stays up.

 

So before next time, read up on the safety techniques

 

 

 

[RAF_Louvert 101]

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Thanks for your concern and the warning for next time Bullethead. I was told pretty much the same thing by my neighbor when he stopped by yesterday. He is one of our First Reponders, and when he looked at the pit he said, "You didn't really sit down in there and work did you?" I said I did. Then he said, "At least tell me you had your cell phone with you." I had not. He just shook his head and told me I'm lucky I wasn't now a statistic.

 

You would think that by age 56 I would have gotten smarter about such things, but I honestly didn't even give it a thought as the earth the hole was dug in was all clay and seemed very stable. I have now been told by two people who know far better than I that what I did was dumb-ass stupid. This proves yet again that we don't actually learn from our mistakes, we just find better and more creative ways of making them.

 

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[Shiloh 12]

We're all certainly glad you are okay Lou and I'm sure every one of use has done something just as dangerous, if not more. This video about Vimy Ridge was posted a few weeks back and if you go to the 21:10 mark, they talk about 'securing the trench' and making it safe before going down inside to investigate - and you can see how they shore up the trench using wood.