In 2015, Britannic Auctions sold a series of letters written by an American soldier stationed on the Western Front during World War I. These letters, authored by Corporal Edward K. Canfield just weeks before his death in the Somme offensive, provide detailed accounts of trench warfare. They document the daily life, challenges, and experiences of a soldier on the frontlines, offering an important perspective on the Great War.
As we read through all of Canfield’s letters while they were in our possession—and accompanied by an original RPPC photo of him in his uniform—we came to feel a deep emotional connection to the young man. Through his vivid words, it felt as though we came to know him personally. His courage, humanity, and sacrifice left a lasting impression on us.
We’d like to tell his story here and reproduce his memories from the front lines as a way to honor his military service to our country.
Military correspondence like these WWI letters serves as valuable historical records. Letters from soldiers often contain insights into pivotal battles, frontline life, and personal reflections that are absent from official reports. At Britannic Auctions, we have observed significant interest in such military memorabilia from both collectors and historians who aim to preserve and study these firsthand accounts.
“Somewhere in France”: A Window into the Trenches
Corporal Edward Canfield’s WWI letters from the trenches in France provide a vivid account of World War I’s brutal realities. Writing in August 1918, just weeks before he was killed in action during the Somme offensive, Canfield’s words convey a mix of fear, determination, and resilience.
“I just returned from the trenches,” Canfield wrote, describing the grueling cycle of support trenches, reserve lines, and the front line. “At first, a fellow feels kind of shaky, but you soon find yourself and get control. The reserve and support are worse than the front line, for you get the heavy artillery shells all the time.”
Such letters not only shed light on the psychological toll of war but also serve as vital historical documents. For collectors of military memorabilia, these firsthand accounts hold both emotional and monetary value. WWI letters like Canfield’s often fetch significant sums at auction—with some Civil War letters fetching thousands of dollars, depending on content, and World War II ephemera selling for similar amounts depending on rarity and content.
Life in the Trenches: A Mix of Terror and Monotony
Surviving in the trenches required endurance, both physical and mental. Edward Canfield’s letters capture the contrast between long stretches of waiting and moments of sheer terror.
“The trenches we’re in had been taken about three or four weeks [ago], and many dead Germans lay in front of them, unburied. The stench was something awful. I am glad I have a strong stomach.”
Even amid the destruction, soldiers found ways to salvage supplies. Canfield and an English soldier once ventured into No Man’s Land at dawn, using the early morning mist as cover.
“I went 'Over the Top One Morning' with an English fellow; we got a lot of souvenirs. We went out while day was breaking about 3:45. There was a heavy mist and we could not be seen. We got bayonets, guns, canned beef—it was good—belts, helmets, and everything off the dead Germans, also German pamphlets. I am sending you one of the belts; it has on the buckle ‘God With Us.’ I think they are liars.”
Witnessing Aerial Combat
The Great War was the first to see widespread use of aircraft in battle, and Canfield saw firsthand the spectacle of aerial dogfights.
“While I was in, I saw two German planes brought down in flames. One landed across the lines and in No Man’s Land—it was a grand sight, and I was much more elated over it when I heard they were Fritz planes.”
“One plane came down from a battle in the air and one from our machine guns. The Fritz that landed in No Man’s Land tried to drop in a small lake, but he fell short—both pilot and observer were killed.”
Cooking and Living in the Trenches
Simple tasks like preparing food became a challenge in the front lines.
“We are resting up now. While we were in the front line, we had to cook our own meals, and it was some job. We cooked with a wood fire. The wood had to be cut very fine, just like matchsticks, so there would be no smoke, as we would not give our positions away. It’s a wonderful sight at night in the trenches—all on guard, watching and waiting for someone to appear. Guns roaring in front of you and different signal lights appearing in front.”
German Signal Flares Light the Night Sky
Enemy forces frequently launched flares to expose troop movements, forcing soldiers to remain motionless to avoid detection.
“Every now and then, the Germans would send up what they call Flary Lights over at us, and the whole place would be like day, only with a dark blue tint. We fooled them with all their lights. While some of the other companies were in, we brought them up their rations from the rear. We would start out at about 1 o’clock at night in single file and keep absolutely quiet and no talking. We brought food right to the front line, and as we walked along in back of the trench, the Germans would send up these lights, and all would stand perfectly still. They would take us for stumps of trees.”
Carrying a Box of Hand Grenades Through Shell Fire
Resupplying the front line was no easy task, and Canfield described the treacherous work of delivering explosives under fire.
“I had a detail one night composed of ten men and myself carrying boxes of hand grenades. You can imagine the job it was—carrying these in boxes to the front line, stepping over fallen trees, barbed wire, old tin dugouts that had been shot to pieces, and falling in shell holes. At the same time, machine gun bullets [were] buzzing by like bees and shells bursting at your rear and in front of you.”
Despite the danger, soldiers found ways to laugh about their experiences. “Frank, the lads have some great times after being up there and then coming back to the rear and telling about how close the shells came to them. It is great to hear some of the stories they tell.”
Dugouts and Shelter in a Wasteland
Finding shelter was crucial to survival. Soldiers often took refuge in old cellars, abandoned buildings, or hastily dug-out trenches.
“Some of the dugouts are fixed up pretty solid, and you are practically safe. A few are in cellars of houses that have been blown down, and others in homes that must have been pretty happy during peacetime,” Canfield wrote.
“The last place I was in was the cellar of an old brewery that had been completely blown to bits. It was just in the rear of the front line. While you are in these dugouts up near the front, you are not allowed out during the day—only one man at a time—as the observation balloons see everything.”
The Misery of Trench Life: Mud, Exhaustion, and Constant Danger
Endless marching through deep mud, constant artillery shelling, and sleep deprivation took a severe toll on the soldiers.
“While you are in the trenches, you are not allowed to take off your shoes. I did not have my shoes off for ten days until we came out to the rear.”
“When we came out of the trenches, we were relieved about 12 o’clock at night. We hustled out; it was very muddy, and the walking was fierce—mud over your shoes and raining hard. Every once in a while, someone would fall in a shell hole full of water and delay us. We wanted to get out quickly on account of being in range of artillery fire. Well, we walked and walked almost in a trance on account of the packs and wet clothes and feet.”
“We walked for about three hours steady until we reached the road. Well, we reached the road and sat down for what we thought would be a ten-minute rest. We just got nicely seated when artillery shells began dropping just in back of us. Up we had to get and beat it down the road. Well, we kept going until daybreak, and then the kitchen wagons pulled in, and you should have seen us eat.”
Cooties (Lice) and Rats in the Trenches
Beyond enemy fire, soldiers also contended with lice and rodents, constant irritants in the trenches.
“Oh, I came near leaving out the cooties and rats. The trenches are full of both. You could pick up some of the shirts and shake the cooties out like sand. You’ll hear a fellow say, 'Well, I guess I’ll read my shirt,' off comes his shirt, and he begins looking in the seams and every nook for the enemy—the cootie. They certainly keep you busy, especially at night. They bite like hell, and I guess they have or hold athletic meets on your back by the way they run around. Some of the cooties have service stripes.”
Dead Enemy Soldiers in the Trenches
"I went 'Over the Top One Morning' with an English fellow; we got a lot of souvenirs. The morning was misty around 3:45, making it hard to be seen. Together, we gathered bayonets, a gun, and canned beef, which we ate right there. Belts, helmets, and pamphlets from the dead Germans were also collected. I am sending you one of the belts; it has on the buckle 'God With Us.' I think they are liars."
"During the day, we had to keep low. One thing I wanted to mention was the 1917 Snipers Rifle we got—it was one of the latest models. Unfortunately, I couldn’t send it home, so I left all but the best items when we were relieved."
"We are resting up now. While in the front line, we had to cook our own meals, which was a job in itself. Cooking was done with a wood fire, and the wood had to be cut very fine, like matchsticks, to avoid producing smoke and revealing our positions. At night, it’s a surreal sight in the trenches. Everyone is on guard, watching and waiting for someone to appear. Guns roar in front of you, and different signal lights flash across the front."
German Signal Flares Light the Skies at Night
"Every now and then the Germans would send up what they call Flary Lights over at us, and the whole place would be like day, only with a dark blue tint. We fooled them with all their lights.
While some of the other companies were in, we brought them up their rations from the rear. We would start out at about 1 o’clock at night in single file and keep absolutely quiet with no talking. We brought food right to the front line.
As we walked along in back of the trench, the Germans would send up these lights, and all would stand perfectly still. They would take us for stumps of trees, etc.
All the trees are shot down or broken off from so much artillery and gunfire. It’s an awful-looking place around 'No Man’s Land'—houses, barns, trees, everything ruined. About every few yards, there are shell holes filled with water, practically no grass, only a few weeds here and there."
Carrying a Box of Hand Grenades Through Shell Fire
"I had a detail one night composed of ten men and myself carrying boxes of hand grenades. You can imagine the job it was carrying these in boxes to the front line stepping over fallen trees barbed wire, old tin dugout that had been shot to pieces and falling in shell holes and at the same time machine gun bullets buzzing by like bees and shells bursting at your rear and in front of you. It’s some experience Frank and the lads have some great times after being up there and then coming back to the rear and tell about how close the shells came to them. It is great to hear some of the stories they tell."
The Safety of Dugouts
"Some of the dugouts are fixed up pretty solid and you are practically safe. Some are in cellars of houses that have been blown down and some in houses that must have been pretty happy homes during peacetime."
"The last place I was in was in the cellar of an old brewery that had been completely blown to bits. It was just in rear of the front line. While you are in these dugouts up near the front you are not allowed out during the day only one man at a time as the observations balloons see everything and we do not want to let them know how many we have around and when they see a few wandering around in groups the German begin sending shells over at you from their artillery."
The Relentless Conditions of the Trenches
"While you are in the trenches you are not allowed to take off your shoes. I did not have my shoes off for ten days until we came out to the rear."
"When we came out of the trenches, we left or were relieved about 12 o’clock at night. Hustling out, we faced fierce conditions—mud over our shoes and pouring rain. We tried to move as quickly as possible, but every once in a while, someone would fall into a shell hole full of water, causing delays. To avoid artillery fire, we pushed forward quickly, walking almost in a trance due to the weight of our packs, wet clothes, and sheer exhaustion.
Reaching Safety and Food
The march lasted about three hours until we finally reached the road," Canfield continues. "Reaching the road, we sat down, hoping for a ten-minute rest. Just as we settled, artillery shells began dropping behind us, forcing us to get up and move again. We kept walking until daybreak, when the kitchen wagons arrived—and you should have seen us eat."
Cooties (Lice) and Rats in the Trenches
"We are resting up now away out of the way. We had a good bath and are now taking it easy. Oh I came near leaving out the cooties and rats. The trenches are full of both. You could pick up some of the shirts and shake the cooties out like sand. You’ll hear a fellow say 'well I guess I’ll read my shirt,' off comes his shirt and he begins looking in the seams and every nook for the enemy - the cootie. They certainly keep you busy especially at night, they bite like hell and I guess they have or hold athletic meets on your back by the way they run around. Some of the cooties have service stripes."
Ed Canfield's Photo and Name Appear in 105th Regiment History Book
At the end of the better, Canfield suggests to his brother that he purchase a copy of a history book on his regiment, published by Edward Stern & Co. Interestingly, this book is viewable in PDF form online, and Edward's name and photograph in uniform appear, just as he said they would. Click here to view the book online - Ed is in Company M near page 119-120.
About the Soldier: Corporal Edward K. Canfield
Early Life and Enlistment
Edward Canfield was born in January 1890 in Hoosick Falls, New York, the son of Thomas and Mary Canfield, an Irish Catholic family with more than nine children. As a young man, Ed worked as a shop laborer. When the United States entered the Great War, he enlisted in the Army, joining New York’s 105th Infantry Regiment, which would later merge into the 27th Division.
Military Training and Deployment to France
Ed’s military journey began with basic training at Camp Wadsworth in Spartanburg, South Carolina, one of America’s leading mobilization centers at the time. From there, he sent many letters home to his older brother, Frank Canfield, sharing his experiences and reflections.
In May 1918, Ed and the 105th were deployed to Europe, landing in France in the midst of battle against German forces. By the end of June, Ed wrote to his family to let them know he had arrived safely. He described the French countryside and the stark contrast to the horrors of war he would soon face.
Life on the Western Front
Ed’s letters vividly captured life on the Western Front, from the grueling conditions in the trenches to witnessing the world’s first aerial combat. In one letter, he recounted seeing German “airoplanes” shot down in flames by Allied gunfire, a striking image of the new realities of modern warfare.
The Ypres-Lys Offensive and the Somme
On August 31, 1918, the Ypres-Lys Offensive began. The 105th Regiment engaged in heavy fighting to dislodge German forces from the Dickebusch and Scherpenberg areas. They advanced until the British 41st Division relieved the 27th Division entirely.
By early September, the Army transferred Ed’s division to the British 3rd Army, stationed in reserve near Doullens, France. On September 24, the Allies prepared for a decisive offensive after months of defensive engagements.
The Somme offensive aimed to break through Germany’s heavily fortified Hindenburg Line. On September 27, elements of the 105th Regiment joined an attack by the 106th. The troops made initial progress near Quennemont Ferme, Guillemont Ferme, and “The Knoll,” a fortified hill. However, fierce German counterattacks pushed the units back to their starting positions. During this operation, Corporal Edward Canfield died in action at the age of 28.
Aftermath and Family Tragedy
Ed was laid to rest at St. Mary’s Cemetery in his hometown of Hoosick Falls, New York. His family, already marked by tragedy, faced further heartbreak. Of his eight siblings, four would meet untimely and tragic ends. Only one younger brother, Joseph, and three sisters, Mary, Julia, and Rita, lived to see World War II.
Frank Canfield, Ed’s older brother and the recipient of most of his wartime letters, faced his own struggles. After years of poor health, Frank took his life in 1932 at the age of 55. He walked into his workplace—the New York post office where he had been assistant postmaster for over 30 years—and shot himself with a .45 caliber revolver.
The Canfield family’s tragedies did not end there. John Canfield, the eldest brother and a former reporter for a Troy, NY newspaper, committed suicide in 1913 by stepping in front of a train in Hoosick Falls. William, a druggist in Troy, took poison to end his life, while James, who worked for the New York Telephone Company in Albany, ended his life by shooting himself in the Telephone Building.
The Role of Letters in War
Throughout history, letters have been a critical lifeline for soldiers and their families. From Civil War correspondence to WWII soldier letters, these communications bridged the gap between the front lines and home. During World War I, letters were often subject to military censorship, but some—like Canfield’s—managed to bypass official channels.
Collectors and historians prize such letters for their unfiltered view of wartime realities. Military ephemera from World War I often includes personal anecdotes, descriptions of battles, and observations of life in the trenches—elements that bring history to life.
The Value of Content in War Letters
The value of war letters in an auction environment often hinges on their content. Letters with vague or ordinary messages like “How are you? I am fine,” are generally less desirable to collectors. On the other hand, correspondence that details specific battles, dates, locations, or personal experiences can command high interest and prices. Collectors and historians particularly prize letters that connect to significant military units or provide fresh insights into historical events. These pieces have the power to shed new light on the personal and tactical aspects of war, adding to their historical and monetary value.
For instance, collections of WWI letters have sold for significant sums at auction. A set of 150+ letters from a WWI pilot, Lt. Quinlan, an Irish Catholic serving in France, sold for $3,000 in 2023. Another archive of 50+ letters from Maurice Robineau, a nurse at Base Hospital 32, detailing experiences of soldiers and the 1918 Paris bombing, sold for $1,384 in 2016. Similarly, a combat journal and letter collection from a 29th Division, 114th Infantry soldier, containing approximately 50 multi-page letters spanning training through occupation, sold for $1,049 in 2024.
Conversely, the value of single WWI letters varies widely. While some rare, content-rich letters command high prices, original WWI single letters have also sold for as little as $5. One such letter, written in 1918 by a serviceman in a U.S. military camp discussing the Spanish Flu outbreak, sold for just $5 in 2023.
Collecting and Consigning War Letters
Corporal Edward Canfield’s letters from the Western Front are more than just historical documents; they are detailed narratives of resilience and sacrifice. They remind us of the immense human cost of war and the enduring significance of preserving these voices from the past.
If you are a collector or have inherited WWI letters like these, consider showcasing them in our auctions. At Britannic Auctions, we specialize in military memorabilia, including war letters and ephemera. Whether you wish to consign your pieces or simply learn more about their value, we offer free estimates and expert guidance. These letters deserve to be preserved, appreciated, and shared with future generations—ensuring that the stories they tell are never forgotten.
