October 13
I found my battalion in new trenches at the verge of a forest today. Hunger every day, too little bread available. Dysentery is spreading is among us. A portion of bread costs 3 crowns. Jupa furnishes me with bread from the kitchen. I am expecting packages from home in vain—feldwebels[1] stole them. The same happens to rum and wine! Officers are drunk. They push us around and beat us with sticks.
October 15
We exercise "Marsch einz" [March] daily while our stomachs rumble. We are still in reserve. What will it be like when we are at the front? I write letters home and to Ústí[2] often, but I seldom get a letter.
Being in the army is getting tougher day by day. One is hungry so he eats a canned meal—so they tie him to a post for twelve hours, and he has to pay a 3 crown fine. The officers are drunk every day! We even lack water.
October 19
We were in the middle of our march when shrapnel started to hit us, so we ran away. Dysentery is on its way. So are the first lice. Patrols are getting tougher—we are expecting Serbs. My deckung is safe, but what if I have to go out?
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