untitled

Has it been a long time since I wrote last? Time sure does fly in the army. We were assigned to this company last Friday, and Saturday morning started to work. The calisthenics are still rather hard on our supply of endurance but we will soon be in shape. After an hour of "Physical Torture" we have an hour of drilling, continuous marching, then an hour of Letter drill. After that comes an hour of lectures, then at eleven-thirty we are dismissed until one o'clock. Have dinner at twelve, then wash our dishes and loaf until one o'clock then two hours of schools, followed by an hour of strenuous play.

I was detailed this week to the 136th Artillery infirmary, the last hour of the afternoon instead of playing, and all we do over there is watch them dress injuries and give medicine to the patients.

However, I have only been over there twice for yesterday I was unlucky enough (to) draw the "Kitchen Police" job, and had to work all day, washing all the pots and pans, then washing them over again. Also, it was a holiday and I missed that as I didn't get through until about 7:30.

This being Thursday, we took an all day hike, (my first) marching through the wild southern country and coming to a halt at a large sand bar on the river, about 11:30. We had to build our own little fire, then fry our bacon in our mess kits and then fry our three slices of bread in the bacon grease and make coffee in our drinking cups. After a long hike, this tasted pretty good and the bread, fried in the bacon grease was more palatable than one would imagine. That is regular army rations, called Emergency Rations, three slices of bread, three pieces of bacon, and a cup of coffee. No, we didn't wash our dishes in the river, but in the sand, as the sand, being baked by the sun is free from most all dangerous bacteria.

Then for an hour, we had nothing to do so I took a walk, with a couple (of) other fellows, back into the jungle and picked some violets and we got a whole wagon load of the prettiest mistletoe you ever saw, simply masses of the pretty, pearl white berries. I'm afraid that in sending them through the mail, the berries would dry up or I'd send some to you folks. I may anyhow, so Haldeman and I are going for a walk Sunday and expect to get all we can carry.

Of all the wonderful scenery! You should take a walk through these jungles! All the vegetation is covered with a parasite that makes it a light gray, ghostlike color. The underbrush is thick, but the ground bare and slippery. The trees are tall and stand like ghosts, the branches stretching straight out like arms but bearing no foliage, except the mistletoe, which appears as a big branch on the tree. The lowest branches are covered with thick feather-like moss, of a light gray color and looks for all the world like those "tied ostrich boas" except that they are gray. Then too there is lots of bamboo growing wild and the little "pick a ninnies" don't have to buy fishing poles.

Funny, there don't seem to be any reptiles in the wilds, but there didn't seem to be a sign of life anywhere in the jungles. There are many interesting sights along the road, little shacks that very much resemble the old fashioned farmer's corn crib, built of slats and on stilts. These are the shacks that the niggers live in, the whole family or families, living in the one room and sleeping on the floor in piles. The filth is something unbelievable but the Military Police have taken things in hand and for miles around, things are beginning to look as though civilization had at last passed their way.

Am sending you a clipping from the Cleveland Plain Dealer which describes our camp better than I can. Had a letter from Dad the other day and he has been badly injured by a fall repair of a tank, having had a dislocated shoulder and a badly sprained hip. Hasn't worked for over a month and says he probably won't be able to flatten (?) any more, I asked him to send me a few stamps and he said he would if he ever got ahead a few cents.

I don't know if I will be able to send this at present as I have neither stamps nor money but expect some from Ruby or Mrs. Gray in a day or two as I told them I needed some.

Say Mother, if you want to send me something that will be appreciated, just bake some bread and send me a loaf or two and a glass of two of jelly. All the fellows in our tent get such things occasionally and nothing comes in quite so good as a couple (of) good slices of home made bread and jelly. If I get some stamps in a day or two I'll send you some for postage. Am awfully hungry for some good home made jelly. Send it P.P.

First of all, let me apologize for my last letter. I wrote it too soon after receiving yours and didn't even try to look beyond the statements it contained. I shouldn't have taken it to heart so much so now I'll have to go into details.

When I came home last fall, I was lonesome. Then when I got the war fever and Clara and I disagreed, I sought consolation and I met this little girl Virginia, and, as you say, spent many enjoyable evenings with her. She was so different in every respect except that she was a true little girl, with high ideals. What she lacked in size, she seemed to make up for in good sense. But I only considered her a friend and refrained from telling you about her, because I felt that someday, things would again be cleared up between Clara and me. But time went on, and I found myself beginning to like Virginia better, and she didn't seem to understand why I should be coming to see her when I had heretofore, always picked out the society bunch. I liked her more for that reason, because she thought that first of all, should come the home, together with love, and that extravagance was a sin. I really didn't love her with all my heart and was afraid that after I left, I would forget her, and that she would me. But it has been just the opposite. She loves me and is proud of me and my mission and every day, I find myself deeper in love with her, just for what she is. I don't know much about her people, except that her mother has been dead for 12 years, and her father is a laborer. But I care not for that. The test is at hand, and if she continues to love me until I come back and I for her, there can be no better test and she shall be mine, and yours. Only, please, mother, don't make this public, as now is no time to get people to talking.

I would appreciate it very much if you would call and see her, but it isn't at all necessary, only make it known to her that she is welcome to come to the house as often as she likes. She won't mind if everybody is working, for I have told her all about myself and my home, so as to not lead her to believe I was some high society dude, from a family afraid of work, nor from a family with lots of money, just a good true Christian home, and the dearest mother on earth with a heart so full of love she can hardly hold it all. Just feel at home when she comes around and she will like you ever so much. Thanks dear old "Moms", oh, how I wish I had told you about it all before I left. But you can understand, can't you! Sure.

I sent my blue suit home by Kenyon Vance and also the sweater. Forgot about the Testament, but will send it later. Had to use it this morning for I let one of the other boys use mine. Last Sunday we started a little church service of our own, and all our own. We decided to make it a Bible Class and today was our second Sunday. I think it will be a great success, and some of the boys will have to brush the dust off their Bibles. We had Chas. Laughlin with us this morning, and he brought us a lot of news from home, together with his lesson. He is in our own Y. M. C. A. and takes his meals with us. All the fellows are so tickled to have him with us and I think he will enjoy it as much as the rest of us.

John Miller, Dum (?), and Watkins left us last week for third officers reserves, and Dick Rector left for France as an interpreter. There will probably be several more leave this week. My French is pretty rusty, but I'm brushing up on it and if I can pass the examination, I may get to go soon myself. But don't count too strong on it. I think we will all be out before another month. Never mind about the Gazette for we get the daily. I saw Clara's Wedding announcement in it and sent her a very nice little letter of congratulations.

Had a fine big box of "eats" from Mrs. Gray last week which was enjoyed by all in the tent. I don't know how such things get started, but occasionally some of the fellows get letters from home saying that they noticed from the newspapers that it isn't advisable to send eats to the boys because they have so much to eat they have to throw it away. That is not so!

I wish you would make it known among the mothers that nothing is so much appreciated by the boys as a little box of eats, home made stuff, and sweets. I'm not telling you this for a hint to send me stuff for I know you folks can't afford it but for the other folks who don't get the straight facts.

Friday morning it rained and rained, and all formations were called off, even school was a failure for the rain beat so hard on the roof that it was impossible to hear. After dinner we got a wireless stating that a cyclone was coming and we had to double stake our tents. When it hit us, we laid in our bunks and enjoyed it to the fullest extent, while outside the world seemed mad at itself and was staging a mighty conflict.

After supper, the rain turned to sleet and beaten by the high wind, was more than a man could withstand. Then the sleet turned to snow and the thermometer kept on dropping all night. We almost froze in bed and when first call blew Saturday morning, the thermometer stood at five above inside one of our officers tents, much more sheltered than ours. Imagine getting up and stripping off then getting into ice-cold clothes, with no fire. But we lived through it and after a hard hour of calisthenics with overcoats on, we had our blood in good circulation. It was too cold for any formation Saturday except " must for pay" and we were willing to freeze for the paymaster. I'm sending you ten dollars, all I have left after my Xmas bills and other expenses. But I owe Geo. Cunningham $2.50 which I ought to pay. If you can afford to, pay him out of this but if not, let me know and I'll pay him next month.

Saturday afternoon we were issued heavy comforters from the Red Cross and since then we have been comfortable.

Have lots of pictures I will send as soon as I finish getting orders from them. Keep them till I come back for they will be priceless in years to come.

Must close now and write some more letters. Will write to ? some of these days but tell her not to feel slighted for my letters home are as much for her as any one else.

Right away I'll answer your letter which reached me this morning. I started over to the

K.C. Hall to write, but it was too crowded then we went over to the Artillery Y. M. C. A. but found the same trouble there so back to our tent and am now trying to write and watch a chess game too. First let me answer your questions and get it over before the evening rough house starts.

Thanks for paying Cunningham. Yes, my Ins. is due in April but I want to pay it this month so as to get it off my mind for we may be in France by April. So Florence was with you three weeks! And no money from Ben! I don't know what to think about it. It seems to me he ought to think a little about the expense of keeping up the house while I'm away.

What is the matter with Beryl? I didn't know anything was seriously a matter with her. And does that expense fall on your shoulders too? Sorry to hear of Mrs. Alspach's death, but poor soul, I really think she is better off. I take it that Mr. A. is up and around.

About the sweater. You told me to send it back if I wanted sleeves put in it so I did. But no collar. And if you can't afford the yarn, why don't bother for I can get along without it and maybe you could find it a great comfort yourself. You see, next month it will begin to get warm and I won't need any of them but if we go across before spring, it will be a comfort. By this time the rest of my stuff has probably reached you and I'll explain. We got orders last week to send all stuff except Gov. Issue home, except our knit goods and also, all sweaters not worn under the shirt. Nothing except blouses and overcoats shall at any time be permitted to be worn over the shirt.

About the blue serge coat: go ahead, use it. Just so you keep my good suit and my last summers double-breasted coat. If we don't leave before spring, I hardly think we will see any real service for I really believe June will see the war over.

I wrote to Uncle John last week but couldn't tell him much about the gas work so if you can find that old letter of mine, you may send it to him. Also wrote to Ruby and to Glade. By the way, yesterday, I got a letter from you and when I opened it I found it was to Glade. I looked over at the end and found that it wasn't half hers and half mine, so without reading it, I mailed it to her at once.

Monday, we had Prexy Hoffman with us for two meals, and he sat down with us to a regular army meal, and ate from tins, the same as the rest of us. After supper we all went over to our own Y. M. C. A. and had a little "get together". Pinky Thronburg talked a while, so did Major Miller, Maj. Snivley, Col. Hall, and Prexy. Then we had a little musical program given by two men and two young ladies from Montgomery, just for our benefit and it was certainly fine. Then we had about an hour of Delaware in the "movies." It was the pictures taken last Commencement time and gee, it did look good to see the old place again and all the familiar faces.

We just roared and whooped all through the pictures, yelling at every familiar face and at the football game, we made as much noise as though it had been a really truly game instead of pictures.

I am sending you a whole bunch of snap shots, very few of which I am in but good ones never the less and they give a fairly good idea of the surrounding country. These are to make a little circuit and I'll ask you to send them out first then when they get around, they will come back to you.

Next thing will come an order to send my camera home for we are positively forbidden to take them across.

The weather has been rather cold and damp of late, with much rain but today was beautiful shiny day. Drill goes on just the same. Today I was on the incinerator and my eyes are sore from the smoke tonight.

Will close now and write a description of the pictures to be forwarded with them.

P.S. Mother, if you can, please take these pictures in to Natalie's before you send them
to Glade also the description of them.
Thanks very much.

Enjoyed your letter very much this morning and will try and answer it immediately while I have a little time.

Thanks for taking the pictures up to Natalie, I hope she enjoyed them but really think she ought to write me a few lines now that I have written her twice. It is alright with me that you changed the order of sending the pictures around for it matters not who gets them first. Sorry to hear of Ruby's quarantine. I wrote her last week I believe and will understand now if I don't get an answer soon. Lawrence Morrison is back and he told me he saw you Sunday although he didn't get to talk to you much. Talk about the cold weather keeping up! Let me warm you up. Last Friday morning it was severely cold but by noon it was like a hot June day, then by night it seemed that August had come all at once and it was like a hot midsummer night with a wonderful big moon. All the fellows ran around in their pajamas out doors and sat and talked on the bridge railing, until almost time for Taps. This kept up for three days with the most wonderful moonlight you ever saw, almost as bright as day and Sunday night I sat out on our bench and wrote a big long letter to Virginia by the moon light. I don't wonder that you haven't seen anything of her lately for in her last she said that Roscoe had been in the hospital and that her sister had been with him most of the time so she had the kids to take care of. It's been a week since I heard from her but I know she is too busy to write.

Am glad Beryl is getting along so nicely. If you had given me her address I would have tried to find time to write her a few lines. Yes I got Bobbies' letter and am really ashamed of myself for not writing to him before this but really it's mighty hard to keep up with my letters since they took away our Wednesdays and usually our Saturday holidays. Then Sunday, there is usually something going on, with school two or three nights a week or some lecture we have to hear. I'll try and write him soon tho' and send him a picture of myself. I very seldom have a night to myself but what I write several letters and it also takes lots of stamps which are also scarce.

I am sorry I startled you with such a surprise by sending home my clothes without any notice but that's the way they do things in the army and we had only a few hours notice to get rid of them. When we get ready to go I suppose they will tell us after supper to pack up and leave by ten o'clock at night.

Our turn can't be very far away now for every day there are big troop trains going through here for some seaport. Don't worry about the "Subs", they won't get us. Some of the officers think we won't leave for a couple months yet but I don't believe it.

A week ago we had a big celebration with Prexy here but I believe I told you about it before.

Last Friday, our double quartet sang for Fred Smith at the Sheridan Coliseum. He is a wonderful speaker and honored us by having dinner with us last Saturday and speaking a little while after in the Mess Hall.

The Reveille had the account of our sing in it but got it mixed up about which company we were in as I suppose you noticed.

Had a letter from Dad this morning and just finished writing him. His letter was written on Dec. 30, and a little note he added said it had been returned to him from the Dead Letter office. Our mail has a tough time of it. He seems to be in pretty poor shape. I suggested that he get in the Y.M.C.A war work and he seemed real interested. I spoke to Chas. Laughlin about him and he said he could fix him he thought, so I directed Dad to get in touch with him. Hope he can for it will do him good. Hope Ben gets along alright and hope by now you have heard from him. Must close now and get back to our company.

These are some of the views of Camp life and Camp surroundings at Camp Sheridan Ala. After you have finished look them over, kindly forward them to the next one on the list and I will be very thankful. Please do not keep any of them as they are of great value to me. Thanking you very much, the program (?) will now begin.

#1. When any one has a birthday, we line up on either side of a narrow path and get our belts in our hand, then make the fellow "run the gauntlet." This shows one of the boys, Marion Gambol, running the "Hot Alley".

#3. (No #2) This is a view of the Alabama River looking down stream from a point west of our artillery camp. It is a pretty good "mirage".

#4. This is a little ravine, the overhead branches of the trees being a solid network of Spanish Moss. This is a typical scene in the White Oak forests in this vicinity.

#5. Myself, in the upper branches of a White Oak, almost in the clouds, Picture taken from another tree.

#6. This goes with no.#1 and shows a heated argument which was necessary to convince Gambol that he had to run the "Hot Alley".

#11. Rather a queer view, being taken directly against the sun from the top of our Bath House, looking toward our Company street "x". The low building at the left is a reading room, built by the men of the 146th F.H.

#17. After mistletoe: From Right to left, Haldeman, Tobe Wallace, Vernon Berry and, a man whose name I do not know, from the signal corps. (Berry is at the right istead of Haldeman.)

#18. In the deep of the jungle the same day. The sun was almost gone and the trees made it almost dark. However, a ten second time exposure made it appear to be taken in bright sunlight. I am particularly proud of this negative.

#19. Notice the creek far below me? There are any number of these trees crossing the ravine in this section. Also a "time" exposure.

#22. This is the way the southern negroes live an a very fine "home" in comparison with
most of the others. The old "Mammy" isn't a bit bashfull. Notice how the houses are
elevated so the pigs may find shelter under the house.

#24 (No #23) "Out in the great alone"! A pine forest in the swamps. Taken on New
Years day while on a "hike" through the jungles.

Thanking you one and all for your kind attention, I'll bid each of you a kind "goodnight".

Mrs. W. W. Davis, New Athens, Ohio
Miss Ruby C. Fees, Pittsburg, PA C.H.P.
(Ruby, please take thse over and show them to Uncle John)
Mrs. Herbert Gray, Canisteo, NY (Steuben Co.)
Mrs. Isabel Fees, Deleware, Ohio

This has been a busy week and I have been too busy to write. This being Friday afternoon, and too hot to go to school, I just slipped off to the woods to write a few letters. The first part of the week we had litter drill then on Wednesday we had our first practical work in hospital work. I don't mean that we hadn't pitched tents before but this was regular "war time" experience. At 12:45 we got the order that a battle was being fought just north of here and in just thirty minutes we had our tents all up and ready to receive patients. There are six big long tents to a hospital besides three small office size tents. All afternoon the ambulance companies brought in the "wounded" and we had to put on new bandages and go through the same things we would in actual service except that we had to imagine the "wounds." It was quite interesting work but so hot all afternoon that we almost perished. The thermometer has been registering around and above 90 degrees all week and today it's hotter than ever.

The Pneumonia season is over here and all cases of sickness are fast recovering, there being only about 2% in the whole camp sick and most of them only slightly. Every morning we are marched in line past the dispensary and have our noses sprayed to prevent colds and it's wonderful to note the improvement.

Yesterday we worked all day on our street, making it about 100 yards longer and we have to put up five more tents as a new order only permits six men to a tent instead of nine as we have had. Anyone would say it looked like we were building a permanent home and its hard to say when we ever will get away. I hope we are gone before summer for if it gets much hotter, we won't be able to drill at all.

Last night we went to the Military Police tent and sang (our quartet) and there were four nice young ladies on the same bill, on a chataqua tour and in talking to one of them I found she lives at Elwood Ind (iana ?). They all seemed like very respectable girls and had a very good education. We all had a lot of fun as well as the audience.

Tonight our quartet, the stringer, and a couple [of] readers from our Company go to the Base hospital to give another entertainment. Takes lots of our time and don't leave much time to write letters so that's why I am so far behind.

Sorry to hear of Mrs. Dennison's death. See by the paper where the flood danger is past and feel quite relieved for a week ago the papers said that a flood greater than that of 1913 was likely to occur with the thawing of the snow and the jamming of the ice. Did you get my insurance money? You didn't say so but I suppose you did. It's about time for school to be out so I better be getting back. Don't worry, the school is only a bunch of red tape and we would get along just as well, if not better, without it. Just takes up time, that's about all.

Haven't much pep to write letters tonight but I'll try and run off a few lines any way. We've just been having a regular circus and the confusion is still in my mind. Let's see, it was Friday afternoon I wrote last wasn't it, out in the woods? Saturday morning we had inspection as usual and at noon I had my hair cut. Say, I wish you could see me! I don't know of a better place than in the Army to have a "shaved head" and as my appearance down town don't amount to much as I very seldom go down anyway, I had my hair clipped close all over my head. Sure feels fine but looks like an escaped convict. The fellows have had quite a time kidding me about it but I enjoy as much as they do. And I believe it will help my hair and maybe cause it to come in thicker.

Sunday morning our quartet sang at the M.P. tent at the religious services. While I think about it now, you spoke of the 34th Psalm. My Testament hasn't the Psalms in it but I'll borrow one and copy the 34th in my diary. Stutz and I have made a vow to read a chapter in the Bible every night before we go to bed.

Monday all day, I didn't drill but Dallas Hepburn and I spent the day in stenciling the new ordinance equipment just received. Now have all our equipment but our side arms and our motor trucks. Our equipment consists of blanket roll of three blankets, small shelter tent, knapsack and canteen, small axe, tent pole and aluminum pegs, mess kit and drinking cup, sanitary first aid belt containing twelve pouches of first aid packets, and side arms. A total of 60 lbs., all on your back. Quite a load for an all day march.

Tuesday we finished this job in the morning and after dinner had another field hospital drill though it wasn't so hot this time as last week.

Last night was another beautiful moonlight night and we sat out doors till nearly ten o’clock then had a regular "rough house" before going to bed. In the middle of the night we were awakened by a heavy rain and almost got wet as we had tents rolled up. It was still raining this morning and we had no reveille or calisthenics. Instead of drill we had school - then at noon the sun came out and dried things off so that by after dinner the ground was dry and we acted as surgical assistants while the other hospital companies had a hospital test drill. Sure was a soft job, all we did was sit around and answer questions when a bandaged fellow came in. Tomorrow I suppose it will be our turn to act as patients.

Had a very interesting ball game this afternoon during play hour in which our side got beat 3 to 1. Haven't heard from Ben or Ruby in a long time. What is Ben's address, I'll drop him a little reminder. Any more of the Delaware boys in the Army? Is "Toad" Lawrence in the Canadian Army? But if you don't know, please don't inquire of any one for I just wanted to know if a certain rumor I heard was true. Above all, don't call up his

mother to find out. I heard he got in a little scrape in Akron and left for Canada but if it's
not generally known around Delaware, please don't repeat it.

Did you get to see Morley? I'm afraid he hadn't much time for he probably went over to
Mt. Vernon. Haven't heard the score yet about the Wesleyan -- Camp Sheridan game
played in Delaware last night.

This is the end of a very pleasant month, and incidentally the end of the hottest day we've had since I hit camp. You can't imagine the fierceness of the sun's rays even at this season when, really, winter is just breaking up. I wonder what we will do when it gets real summer weather! And I wouldn't be surprised if we would see some of it too for, tomorrow we start in on another sixteen weeks schedule, getting up half an hour earlier and getting through at three o'clock in the afternoon. I can't believe they will keep us here that long but you never can tell. Anyhow, if we never do get across, we will have done our "bit" although it will be a sad disappointment for everyone.

How I did enjoy your good letter of this morning! It made me feel real good again and I'm so glad Beryl is getting along nicely. Had a dear good letter from Uncle John yesterday and he sent me a letter from a friend of his, Mayor Hiles, who is in France, and I enjoyed it ever so much. Haven't heard from Dad lately but some how I've had the funniest feeling lately that he was going to "turn up" here some of these days, in a

Now listen Mom, don't let Ruby talk you out of the Denison place! She don't understand I think, but I can see where she is justified in thinking about Glade not staying but I believe you will both be tickled with the work. They don't know you as well as I and how you long for the freedom of a few acres. I can just see you now, in the evenings, planting and hoeing. It will be a little strenuous at first, but I don't believe my dear old mother is too old to enjoy herself in the garden. And the chickens! You want to be sure Beryl has lots of that tar solution to cure the "gaps"!

You'll have to get the old lawn mower out too, won't you? For that lawn will sure be some job to keep in trim.

Say, did I surprise you with the little package of "jewels" last week? I can just see you tugging at the strings and see expression of joy on your face when you finally got to the contents. Harley Benedict was down town with me last Saturday night and we both bought ten pounds of the precious stuff at nine cents a pound. By the time we paid the express on it, it made it pretty dear, (about $.14) but its just the idea of getting it. Its plentiful here and a person would have no trouble in getting a hundred pounds if he wanted it.

I also had a nice long letter from Rus yesterday but he couldn't tell me much about the country, mostly about his girl. You didn't know her, Naomi Patton by name, and he sure has it bad. Haven't heard from Virginia in the last week but I presume she's awfully busy as she's on night duty.

Last night our quartet sang at the M.P. Tent again and had front seats for the rest of the show, a magician and a good one. We were to sing tonight at the Baptist Church in town but somehow we got mixed up and didn't go, so I'm having a little time to write to you.

Last Sunday we were to sing at Church in camp but, as luck has things in the Army, I had to work in the kitchen.

We are all moved around now and I'm in a new tent with Marion Gambal, Harley Benedict, Kenyon Vance, "Doc" Hamilton and Art Metzget. Not quire such a noisy bunch and not near so much scrapping, but nevertheless, it's like breaking up a family. We took the old "INDIVIDGE" sign from our old tent and shall keep it as a relic in years to come, and we have decided to have an "Individge" reunion once a year after the war.

Say mother, before I close, let me impress one thing on your mind: whatever happens, don't let Ben have my hand bag nor any of my clothes for I'll need them all when I come back and if he gets that bag, it won't be worth much very long. It's worth about $25.00 just now. It's alright to use it yourself or any of your women folks but you know him. I don't mind about the overcoat as it was nearly worn out any how. Thanks awfully much for you good letter. Just loads of love to you both.

This afternoon was a big day for me as far as mail is concerned, four pieces coming at once, Yours, Natalies, Virginias' and a receipt from Brooks Gallager.

First, I'll answer yours then try to get a few more written as this has been a poor week to write letters and I haven't written a single one since yours of a week ago. Mom's dear, why didn't you tell me you needed some money instead of saying you could get along without it? I am going to see Major Miller at once and see if I can arrange to set aside for you, a little extra only I have thought it out before. You see, that clause about dependent parents means, as I was told, absolute dependents and as you and Dad are not legally separated, the question came up as to whether you were dependent upon me or him, legally. But now that he hasn't been able to work, maybe I can get it and it will make me feel so much better if I do. Last month was disastrous for me and I lost, or rather I had stolen a pair of shoes, and my comfort kit and two razors. It hit me pretty hard and the razor will set me back $5.00 and the shoes about $4.00 but I will make a couple dollars on my Kodak work which will help out a bit.

Well, our work goes on about the same as last week with a hike every day but we have again been forbidden to talk or write about anything military, which makes it next to impossible to write a letter.

I see by the papers that the 166th is now in action and doing great work. It wouldn't surprise me much now if the great-talked-of German Offensive falls through with for the Allies are sure "bustin" up all their preparations. Anyway, Gerard, the man who so stoutly swore that the war would end in seven years more, has now come forth with the statement that he expects this year to end it and so it should, we won't see any action at all for it is generally conceded now that when we go over, it will be to get ready for next Spring's drive. But, we have almost gotten over complaining for every day we realize a little more just what war really is and we can just count on being healthy and eating three "squares" as long as we stay in this country. When we have to get into it then its time to kick about sleepless nights and meatless days. It sure seems a shame mother, that you folks have to sacrifice so much when there is so much wasted in the Army. There should be, but we seldom eat all they give us and just think, we have pure creamery butter twice a day. We don't know what a wheatless or meatless day is and when anyone tells you that the soldiers are poorly fed they don't know what they're talking about. And too, it isn't the soldiers that are making the sacrifices nor it isn't the soldiers who will win the way! The dear folks at home get the biggest share of the credit and when it's all over, they can be as proud if not prouder than those who really wore a uniform.

We are all happy now that winter has passed but the boiling sun wears a fellow out and it takes one or two baths a day in cold showers to get the life back into a fellow. The roads are so dusty that they are almost unfit for travel though we march along every day throwing up clouds and clouds of white-hot dust.

Talk of March winds, this is the windiest place I ever saw, it never stops blowing except at night when we want it to blow and the sand and dust just cover everything, gets into our mess pans, clothes and bed clothes. But it only tends to make us harder, and we are getting used to it.

About my socks, I've been saving them, not wearing any but the light ones that are issued to me. Any way, don't you think I can darn? Sure, I've darned one pair, the only ones worn though, and you can't tell where they are mended.

Sunday night I intended to write you a letter and as there was so much noise in the tent I went over to our Y.M.C.A. and just as I started, the Sunday church services began and instead of writing, I heard a very good sermon. It was from Luke, I believe the 15th chapter, about the Prodigal Son. Rather a coincident, I've just been reading in Luke, a chapter every day and really, it is surely interesting, and I never thought there were so many parables and miracles in the one Book. The Y.M. secretary said he would get me a little handbook of the Psalms so I'll have to go over and get it, then I'll learn yours.

Am so glad Virginia ran out to see you and sorry you couldn't go with her to the show.

Must close now mother dear, don't worry too much or work too hard, and with both our prayers things will turn out with a grand opening and all will be happiness. Just oceans of love.

I am almost too tired to push the pen over the paper but I must answer your wonderful letter which came yesterday afternoon. There has been a change in the Sanitary Organization in the last few weeks and Col. Darby has relieved Col. Joe Hall of all connections with the Sanitary Train. But is has been a sad day for the poor soldiers! Every day, for the last two weeks, including our Saturday afternoons, they have had us working like prisoners of war until after time for supper. Work begins about ten minutes after we get back from an all day hike and just when everyone wants to take a bath. Today has been the hardest one I've spent in many a day, chiefly because I walked guard last night for four hours, with only three hours of sleep.

We are having regular "Guard Mount" now, and have to go through a solemn formation, then be marched around to different forts. Have to sleep at the guardhouse on hard cots but that isn't nearly so bad as it sounds for a soldier can sleep any place with little discomfort. I was on guard at the stables and the only thing of interest that happened was three horses getting loose but they gave me no trouble in catching them.

I have been doing a little carpenter work lately at the new Colonel's office and this week, beginning today, I am "acting" mechanic for the company as Jimmy Battenfield, our regular mechanic, left on a furlough last night. Had a big job today, but received the major’s compliments on the kind and amount of work I got finished. Built a new storage tent and put in new racks for holding the different medical property.

I'm afraid you might get the impression that I'm discouraged or disgusted with the Army by what I've said but please do not interpret it that way, for I'm not, only I'm so tired I can't think straight.

Now to answer your letter: Could anything better have happened to help with the little farm? I'm just crazy to see you settled and enjoying yourself once more when there is room to turn around. But about the money you say you will need at once. Listen mother dear, I have a nice surprise for you although it will probably be sometime before you will realize it. I got my allotment through all right, allotting you fifteen dollars a month, to which the government will add $10, making $25. No telling how long it will be before you get it but your credit will be good anyhow. I shall send you a duplicate of my application in the near future. I had it dated to commence this month.

About the razor, never mind about sending it for I got myself a new one, an "auto-strap", the kind I have yearned to possess for a good many years. My picture money will pull me through this month all right. Thanks for the Valentine, but that don't apply to many soldiers for they all seem to be pretty good with a needle. (???)

About darning sox: I know we aren't allowed to wear darned ones but that's because if we were, the guys would just take a few stitches in the sock and pull the hole shut, leaving a bump to cause a blister. They can't tell where mine are darned and there isn't a knot in the thread any place.

So glad to hear Beryl is getting along nicely and just know the open air will fix her up in good shape.

Haven't heard from Dad lately but I believe I owe him a letter so will try and find time tomorrow to write him. Have you seen Virginia lately? Poor little girl is working pretty hard I guess but I don't think she will get thin from over work do you?

Well, I'm going to steal off and try and find a cocoa-cola before I go to bed, then I'll come back and read a little of John and get a good nights sleep.

Your most interesting letter came this afternoon, the only mail I've had since your last. By the time this reaches you I expect you will be all settled in your new country home and busy with the garden. Wish I could have been there to help with the moving for I know you must have been pretty near all in. Have been having it pretty soft this week, still painting boxes, getting ready to leave. I don't doubt but you folks hear some wild rumors but hardly as many as we do, for every day we have a whole bunch of new ones. Of course, the new spring drive of the Germans has caused a lot of anxiety but it really isn't as much as Army men have been expecting. There was an order came over from hdqrtrs Sunday for a list of names of all men physically fit for overseas duty and this caused a riot of rumors concerning an early departure. We are now slated to leave in two weeks, thirty days, two months, or any time later, that's the way the rumors run. It's impossible to get any facts about it and if we could we would not be permitted to say when. Only please don't worry! It will be many months before we see active service and by that time the Germans will have had an awful taste of their own medicine. Don't be alarmed if, in the next week or two, the Germans make some big successes, for it is expected, to draw them away and get them out of their own fortifications, will be the greatest chance to swing a heavy counter thrust, using the cavalry and once their retreat is begun, mark what I say, you can count on the rest of the war being one of few big battles, with the Germans gradually losing here and there until their last stand is made. I don't know how you feel about it and wonder which branch of the fighting forces you most admire, but for me, I am crazy about the cavalry. Just watch the papers and you will see that, contrary to reports a year ago, the cavalry is the greatest fight(ing) unit in the world, once they have a chance at a flank, or to get the Germans on the retreat.

Well, to go on with my letter: Last Saturday I took a little stroll out in the woods and gathered a big bunch of pansy-violets and sent them to Virginia but I'm afraid they didn't keep for they wilt so fast. I wish you could see the ferns down here, all kinds and sizes. I wonder if they would grow up North. I may send you some roots, also some wild pansy plants or seeds.

Sunday Doc Hamilton and I took a 10-mile hike after dinner through some wonderful scenery, the pictures of which I'll send you in my next letter. Next week, the company expects to go out for a few day's stay in a big ravine, in which they have been digging dug outs this week.

Now to answer your letter: What an awful price to pay for a stove, and summer coming on! I think, when the war is over I'll buy a little patch of ground down here and build a little shack and we won't need any stoves! You would surely like this climate only you would never get used to the people. They are the laziest you ever saw, and have absolutely no ambition. The Jews are the only people in the South that keep the place alive, and I will say the country is alive with them, all business houses are run by them.

I must write to Ben, although it was over two months before that I had any word from him. But you are at liberty to send him any of my letters, at any time.

I can't just understand why Virginia is so anxious. (??) It's been over two weeks since I heard from her and I wrote her the very day I got hers. The little girl doesn't realize what a letter means when we are so far away from civilization. Every time she says she will write oftener but it's always the same thing. I know she is very busy, but so are we, and a letter is the greatest joy we get. She has only a few to write being at home, while I always have a long list waiting to answer. Next time you see her tell her how I feel about it will you please?

I would like to see the new church and am glad you had a chance to go through it.

Didn't I tell you about my hair? Well, I had it shaved off to stop it from falling out and it sure was a sight for a while. Its coming in pretty good now and can part it a little now.

Don't worry about our having to work too hard, it's only in the course of training and it doesn't hurt us any. We get in the habit of kicking about most everything and that's part of our fun. We wouldn't enjoy it half so much if we couldn't kick.

Well, I must quit now for I'm about run out. Am now reading in John and have covered the first ten chapters. Give my regards to all my friends you see and tell them the 147th will do its share when we get over there.

This is the first spare time I have had since I wrote last. Ever since the news came that we were leaving soon, I've been working day & night and all that saved me (from) a big day Sunday, was a trip to Troy, Ala. Our quartet went up there Sunday morning and sang at the First Baptist Church. We did fairly well and the fact that the folks down here don't know good music got us "by" in good shape.

We had a fine dinner then after sitting around a couple hours the lady at whose house we ate dinner suggested that she bring us back to camp in her machine, a big Packard. Well we didn't tell her it would make us seasick or that we didn't like the dust so she brought (us) in, fifty-six miles through some wonderful scenic country. All along the road were "storm cellars" showing that they have some severe storms through the valleys. There was practically no level country and the views from the tops of the hills were stupendous. The road was in fine shape and wound in and out among the dense forests, up and down over the crests and though the valleys. One thing that I noticed was that all along the roadside, the little wild plum trees were laden with ripe plums, and many tourists were picking them. A fellow could pick a few bushels in a day and they make wonderful jelly.

Peaches are very plentiful, and cheap, only .40 a peck, for those juicy little clings, the ones that to peel them all you have to do is pinch the peeling and it all comes off as though they had been scalded. We brought back a basket full from Troy and enjoyed them all evening.

I am so glad you got your check and I want to thank you for returning the certificates. Had a letter form Ben this afternoon and he told me the newly arrivals name.

How could he do it? But I'm tickled to pieces over it at that. I must try and find time to write him tonight. I owe letters to Dad, Mrs. Gray, Virginia, Russ and several more. Do me a favor will you? Send Nell Stephens my thanks for the chocolate for really I am going to be so busy the next few weeks I know I won't get a chance to write to her.

I am in charge of all the painting, packing crating, besides helping the Sergeant with his paper work. No, I don't have to work all the time but I am as anxious as anyone to get it done and, as was the case last Fall at home, night work is as easy as "night play". Then too, some of these days there is going to be a better job waiting for someone and I know of no better way to apply for it than to show I'm interested. Really, (must be an exception) but I do like it and even though the rest of the fellows are always kicking, I've found that you only get a double dose every time you do it.

As for leaving, there is still nothing definite except we have ordered to be ready by the first of the week. Some movements will undoubtedly take place next week but we hardly expect to leave that soon.

Had a wonderful letter from Virginia today, and the dear little girl always sends me some stamps. Today she told me about sending you out a nice plant for Mother's Day and it just made my heart leap with joy. Says she realizes that when the war is over, I'll have to start with nothing and for me not to worry for while I'm gone, she is going to do all she can to give us a start. I fall more in love with her every day and I have promised myself as well as her that she won't ever be sorry for it.

While I am sitting here writing, a very funny yet beautiful scene appeared in the sky. There was the most beautiful sunset in the East! The sun had gone clear out of sight in the west and the sky was hardly colored at all but away to the eastern horizon, there were heavy clouds, bright red and yellow, giving the exact impression as though the sun was setting in the East. The wind has picked up in the last few minutes and the clouds are coming overhead, streaks of lightning flickering across the sky and in another few minutes we may get a shower so I'll have to bring this to a close and get our tent down. Remember that picture I had on my dresser, a post card with fancy designs on it with Virginia's picture on it? The one I made and showed you last fall? I wish you would look for it and send it to me as soon as possible for I haven't any of my little girl and she hasn't any to send me.

To the Writer: Save by writing on BOTH sides fo this paper. To the Folks at Home: Save food, buy Liberty Bonds and War Savings Stamps.

Well we’re still here and it looks like it may still be two weeks before we get away. We are practically ready now but latest reports have that we are to be the next to the last to move, and will not wait long at the port of embarkation.

It will sure be a blessing to get away from this heat. I’m afraid if you were here to feel it you would change your mind about wanting to live in this climate. Already it’s much hotter than our hottest days in the year and each day it gets worse. The boys have done practically no drilling of late and their time has been taken up by lectures and athletic tests down in the woods. Went out Sunday afternoon in woods with Art Metzger and tried to find a cool spot but it was impossible. We picked a few blackberries and dewberries and came back in time for supper. Since Tuesday morning they have been moving troops out of here but lack of cars makes it slow work. It seems they are moving troops all over the country and it’s a tough proposition to get cars enough.

Am glad to hear about Ruby but it was anything but a surprise to me for I have known it since Feb. That’s why I never sent you my allotment receipt, because that was one of the basis for my application. Will enclose it in this if I don’t forget. When my stuff comes home, unwrap it and put it away for there may be some stuff in it that won’t keep.

You perhaps have noticed my writing is poor in this but I’ll tell you why. Am just sitting up a little tonight after being on my back for a few days. In the army they recommend that every man be circumcised and as I never was, I have been anxious to have it done so yesterday I became a “Jew” so to speak. It was a painless operation and only took a local anesthetic. I watched the whole thing and it was very interesting, and almost bloodless. Hasn’t bothered me much and in a couple of days will be alright again. I’m glad it’s done for I believe it’s a thing every man should have done and every boy. A man can’t be clean without it.

I’m still a little weak and rather nervous and must get back to my bed in a little while.

Haven’t heard from Virginia for almost a week now but expect a letter tomorrow. Will write her in a day or two but if she calls up or comes out, tell here I’ve been in bed but am still as able as ever.

Just a note. Will you look through Ruby’s stuff and see if my bathing suit is there? It’s a one piece woolen one. Olive Drab with a pale blue stripe. I have lots of need for it and wish you’d send it immediately if you can find it. I am writing to Ruby too at this time and asking her if she has it so I may get it by Friday to use Saturday afternoon.

I fully intended to write a real letter tonight but as is usually the case, the little time we have to ourselves was taken up by a compulsory lecture given by John Mayefield, the same man who spoke in Delaware a short time ago. It was awfully dry and the building was so hot we could barely manage to exist. Finished packing and loading yesterday but we won’t leave here until Sunday or Monday, going direct to port of embarkation.

It’s almost time for Taps and I must take a bath so I’ll have to write tomorrow again or Wednesday but I just have to get this to you to ease your mind.

I sent you my Insurance Policy last week which I forgot to tell you about. The Metro. Company sent it to me, as they don’t retain policies anymore when a loan is advanced on it. Keep it in a safe place. Also sent you my clothes and extra stuff yesterday. The shoes are an extra pair I had used. Found an old pair and had them fixed so I decided to send the new ones home for shoes will be higher than a kite when this war is over. The blankets are in a pretty dirty condition but I had no way of washing them. The bathrobe is one a friend of mine in the signal corps gave me when he left. The Razor is one Dad sent me and please take good care of it and keep it in a dry place.

Must hike for the shower before lights go out so will say goodnight, love to all.

Will start this now for we may have a little time off in the next few hours and if so I can get this off on the afternoon mail.

Everyone counted on having an easy week this week as all our freight has been shipped but it started off in a whirlwind. Monday was a busy day cleaning up and after supper we had to go to that lecture. Tuesday we checked up all day until 3:30 then marched past in review with our complete marching roll and pack, about 74 lbs. We had to walk about three miles in the hottest sun that ever shone. It was the worst torture we ever went through and war can’t be any worse. It was only grim determination that brought us back, but after a good cold bath and a good night’s sleep; we were as good as new by morning. Yesterday was a nice cool day and I worked with the Q.M. until nearly suppertime in checking up.

Then just after the sun went down I sat down and started a letter to Virginia and had just got a good start when I heard the awfullest roar accompanied by a whistling noise and I knew what was coming. Another of our frequent sand storms, only this was accompanied by a young cyclone. It was the worst I ever saw and we just got our tent roped down in time. The sand was everywhere. When it started it was still light enough to write a letter with no light in a dark tent but in less than a minute the light was all gone and it was dark as night. These storms are worse than any rainstorm you ever saw. It’s impossible to get away from the sand; it goes down your neck, in your nose, eyes and ears and saturates every thing you own. When I came back in to write again, the sand was so thick on the paper you couldn’t tell there was any writing on it. After a little while though it started to rain and then it poured, this being accompanied by a spectacular electrical storm. Just as I turned in, there was a flash that seemed to almost burn my face it was so close and was unlike most thunder in its report, sounding for all the world like a great explosion, with no rumbling to it nor any ripping sound to precede it. I rolled over and in a few minutes was sleeping soundly when there came that “nerve racking” bugle call – Fire! ~ ! It was still pouring down rain but one look out of the tent showed that there was another big fire, over near the coliseum. From here it looked like it was the coliseum.

I put on my shoes and a raincoat and started on a dead run down the company street.

I hit someone and lost my balance and went head first into the little gutter that was full of sand laden water but was unhurt and in a second was on a run again for the fire. It was making an awful blaze and as we neared the coliseum we saw it was the reclamation office and warehouse.

The building was of brick with a tile roof and was filled with old clothes and property turned in. As usual, I couldn’t bear it to stay on the outside of the crowd and just watch it burn so I grabbed a hose and pushed and shoved til I finally got out of the crowd and within the restricted zone and from there went on up to the building with the rest of the fellows on the hose. There was practically no pressure, only about a six-foot stream of water and a fifty-mile gale blowing. However, it was blowing away from the coliseum and that is all that saved it for it is only about 50 ft. from it. The roof finally came down and a few minutes later the wind blew the upper front wall inside, leaving a heavy 3 ft. cornice hanging around the second story. We ??? in the window with the hose when, with no warning at all, this cornice came down like a shot, the full length of it at once and two of our crew were caught under it and thrown to the ground, pinning under it.

One of them was only scratched a little but the other was bruised considerably, his face
cut and was burned rather painfully. However, neither was seriously hurt and it’s only a
miracle that we weren’t all killed or burned badly at least. It missed me by an inch or two
but that (was) as good as a mile.

We stayed until it had burnt it’s worst and then I came back, took a shower and crawled
in bed between my blankets.

The lightning that I heard so plainly had struck the building but had not set it afire
immediately. It was fully half an hour after the crash that the fire call blew.

Well we still are booked to leave Sunday or Monday but latest rumors have it that we
will be at Long Island for at least 10 days. It is not yet announced what port we will leave
from nor what camp we will go to.

I will write you again and mail it the day we leave here. Am enclosing a form we are
asked to make out and send home. Keep it always! Don’t let it get lost and never use it
if it is necessary to read what is on it. Recopy if necessary. I don’t think you’ll ever get a
chance to use and I hope sincerely that I can some day tear it up myself.

Dearest Folks,
I find I forgot to mail that clip I spoke of yesterday so will send it today.
We are still booked to leave Sunday but I am afraid we will be prohibited from writing

then so don’t be disappointed if you don’t hear from me for a little while. We may be at
port of embarkation two weeks and we may get a chance to write from there.
Must now march over to some office to draw ration money ($2.70) for furlough.
Love to all,
Basil

A postcard mailed from Brooklyn, NY addressed to Isabel Fees, 370 W. Central Ave, Delaware, OH

Arrived in Camp Upton L.I. this noon. Write me here for we will be here probably a week or ten days.

At last I am where I can write a little and will try and tell you of our trip from Dixie back to “God’s Country.” Kenny Vance has my pen so I am compelled to use my indelible.

Well, to go back to last Saturday: We took down our tents Saturday morning, packed up and then did mostly nothing but kill time and have inspection till Monday morning when we packed up, thoroughly “policed” the camp and it ten o’clock marched over to the train in the hottest day we ever had. We fully expected to stay there till late afternoon but, to our joy, we pulled out of Sheridan amidst wild cheers at eleven o’clock. At twelve we had said our last farewell to the city of Montgomery and we at last (were) on our way north. We just creeped along all day and night. At suppertime we were just at Columbus, Georgia where we were met by several hundred canteen workers of the Red Cross and in spite of a heavy rain, they braved it all and gave us refreshments. It was a noisy buy happy crowd that left there, again on our way to the corn country.

We made the trip in old day coaches and were arranged three men to a section of two seats, that is two in one seat and one in the other facing. That was pretty crowded with it came time to sleep but Kenny Vance, Metzger and myself are all small and the three of us made the section into a bed and slept side by each, packed like sardines.

To my surprise, I woke up next morning as rested as though we had been in Pulmans.

Tuesday am found us just crossing into South Carolina. Everywhere was cotton! cotton!! cotton!!! The day was grand but we still could feel the heat of the South. We made better time this day and at 2:30 were at Florence S.C. where we got off the train and marched through the streets for exercise. It was a pretty little place but, like all southern towns, was absolutely dead and it seemed most people considered us as part of the army of General Grant or Sherman. We didn’t get a single “hooray” not a clap of the hand from a single person but when we got back to the train we were again met by the Canteen Workers and we again were fed and proclaimed heroes. Before night we were beginning to notice the difference and people began to be more ambitious. The bridges were of steel and we had double tracks and occasionally we would see a white man out in the fields working; but it was cotton, always cotton!

Wednesday morning after a night of little sleep, we arose with the feeling that we had come into a different country. The air seemed to be full of energy and on looking out, low and behold, we saw corn and wheat and potatoes! It seemed like coming back to a land of civilized people and everyone was just full of pep. The people all along the tracks waved and yelled, the small towns were out in force to see us pass through and by eight o’clock, we had crossed the big bridge over Chesapeake Bay and ahead of us we could see Washington’s Monument and the National Capitol. We stopped in Washington and had our calisthentics at Camp Meigs and once again the Girls gave us a handout doughnuts and real, sure enough coffee! By three o’clock we were in Philadelphia and paraded through the streets and out to the big city park, then back to the station where another “breadline” was in store for us. These canteen workers meet all troop trains and give the boys sandwiches, pop, ice cream, candy, chewing gum and smokes. It is a wonderful organization as well as the Red Cross itself. And don’t ever begrudge a nickel you can spare to give to the Red Cross. My views have been absolutely changed since joining the army and now there isn’t enough praise to be said for the American Red Cross. They do more toward winning the war than the Liberty Loans, for as well as care for the soldiers they inspire into them the “pep” that makes a man want to give his all for his country and the folks at home.

Well to go on: By suppertime we were in New Jersey and presently along the ? shore, we could see the Statue of Liberty out in the bay and as we crossed over the corner of the bay, the wind hit us a blow and carried several of the boys hats out onto the bay. We arrived in Jersey City about eight o’clock and detrained and went out on the pier and had a good look at New York’s skyline and the hundreds of boats going and coming. The sight of the water, the sway of the pier and the “ooooo”, “ooooo”, “ooooo” of the steamers seemed to thrill me all over again and the call of the water hit me hard for a little while. We then went back to our train and laid there all night. We got up Thursday morning at four o’clock, had breakfast and at 5:30 we unloaded the train and loaded onto the ferry. By eight we had left the dock and were on our way up the East River, going under the Brooklyn Bridge and the other two big ones, getting a wonderful view of the waterfront and the ocean liners. There were lots of sights I am not allowed to mention, but they only convinced me more thoroughly than ever before that in a few months more, the submarines will not dare to come within miles of any of our troop ships and the seas will be a dangerous place for them to travel in any place. I wish I could tell you of some of them for I know it would relieve your mind a wonderful lot, but I can’t so just don’t worry a bit and someday I can tell you everything. I am wondering, do you keep my letters? Perhaps it would be a good plan then when I come home, I can go over them all and tell you all about the things of which I can’t write.

After about a 40 minute ride we were in Brooklyn and then we had to load the train here and by ten o’clock we were on our way to our destination. We passed Camp Mills where the “K” Boys were last Fall and then on past Camp Hazelhurt (?) the aviation camp on Long Island where the machines were as thick as the black birds in the Fall around Delaware. They attacked our train in twos, threes, squads and in great numbers; it seemed they came from all directions and there seemed to be no end of them. For fifteen or twenty miles they still came at us, practicing their attacking formations, full speed then a quick turn, a dive, then up, up, up, only to dodge, loop the loop, fly upside down and on their sides, just as though they were dodging enemy planes. Their most favorable stunt is to be up a few thousand feet going at full speed, then all at once turn their nose to the ground, shut off their engine and fall down, down, down spinning slowly as they fall until you would think sure they were going to hit the ground, then they glide away as pretty as a bird and the force of the air starts their engine again, and away they go at it again.

By noon we were at Yaphank! That’s what they call the little station here and we got our feet off the train for the last time and under full packs, marched a mile or more to our barracks. It was three o’clock before we were settled and no dinner! Jimmy Batterfield and I took a walk to the canteen and bought some cakes. It was good we did too for we were in for a long siege before supper, which was finally set at seven o’clock. But we were to be rewarded for it all for in our barracks we have real beds with springs! The first time since last November except while I was home. Our stay here promised to be a rest more than anything for we haven’t anything to do but have inspection and get equipment. It will probably be the 10 days before we leave, but the last week or so we probably won’t be allowed to write to anyone so they can sneak us away in the dark.

I don’t care how soon we leave for I haven’t a dollar in the world and no chance of

getting any til we get to France.
Last night was sure a dandy to sleep, cold as early Spring and the days are crisp and
refreshing, our overcoats feeling real comfortable.

Well I must close now and turn in for it will take a few nights to make up for what we lost
on the trip up here.
Just loads of love to all.
Basil.

At last we are settled for a little while at least, and as the mail only goes out once a week, despite my weariness of four weeks of travel I shall write a few lines to relieve you of any worry. I shall write to you or Virginia this week and you can share it with each other. I haven’t time to go into any detail about our “scenery” but will in my next. We are now permitted to say that we came through England on our way over and it was a wonderful trip all the way. Coming through France we got a glimpse of Paris and lst night we witnessed an air duel directly overhead and saw the searchlights play upon the Boche machine and presently we say it dash to the ground, several thousand feet, a mass of flames. We passed close enough to the front to hear the roar of the big guns and to see the flare of the bursting shells, in the German’s biggest offensive of the war.

It is surprising to notice the enthusiasm of the French people. They are not the least discouraged and welcome us with gladness. Don’t worry and don’t believe too much you read in the papers.

Note: Share this with Virginia and tell her I shall write this week and for her not to worry in the least .

I have a little time this evening and before it gets too dark I want to get a few lines to you. We are at another little town now one step nearer to our regular works. Of course our first training will be on a very quiet front but it will be interesting nevertheless for it will be getting down to real business and we can feel that we are doing something. The French people are a very sociable bunch and are eager to talk to you no matter whether they understand you or not. They are all enthusiastic about the Americans and the old men take off their hats to the boys in khaki. But just the same, I’m glad I’m and American for the way the people live is rather trying to us. They have their stables in the same buildings with their own quarters and they drive their horses and cows right out the front door, next to the one that enters into their living rooms. So far, we haven’t been short on our water supply and what we have here is excellent. We haven’t met up with any of the soldiers “friends” the “cooties” and the longer we can keep away from the the better I’ll like it. It’s hard to realize that there is a war on for the country is all so peacefull looking and crops everywhere seem to be far better than one would imagine. There isn’t a vacant spot anywhere and such wheat you never saw in Ohio. One notices the lack of men though and everywhere may be seen the women working in the fields. They go about it as though they were used to it and I dare say most of them are. The only signs of war are the great numbers of soldiers in every town and at night it is possible to hear the distant rumble of the artillery. While I am writing this, you are no doubt being thrilled by the great victory of the Allies and I hope that by the time this reaches you there will be still greater ones. There is surely a lot of soldiers over here and it seems that there isn’t room for all of them on the front for everywhere you see tem by the hundreds. We came here by trucks and on the road we passed a whole gang of German prisoners being marched to some prison camp. Really, (although you hear of the number of young boys in the German army) you can hardly believe your eyes when you see some of the youngest ones, mere kids. Our quarters here are very comfortable and we don’t go hungry. We are still waiting for our June pay though and it looks as though we would et both June and July pay together. Moving around this way has hindered our mail and I haven’t had any since I left the states except a short one from Dad, written June 26. Some of these days it will all come in a rush though and it will take a lot to hold down when it does come. Everyone is in the best of spirits and the only thing we are wanting is to get down to our real work. Wrote to Virginia last week and will write again next and you may share this with her. Also with Ben and the rest. Am wondering if Ruby is over here yet and if so where. Just loads of love to all and please don’t worry.

While awaiting inspection this afternoon I’ll get a few lines off to you in answer to your last letter which came day before yesterday. It was the one of Aug 9 and in answer to my first overseas mail. I’m glad Ruby finally got off and so glad she could get home for a little while first. Will now wait for her letter from over here and her address, as she didn’t give the number of her unit in her letter. Still I don’t hear from Virginia but now that she has my address, I shall look for one this week. Am glad she met Ruby and from what Ruby tells me in her letter, she made quite a hit as she says she is just the kind of a girl she has always had in mind and says she is a dear if she is little. You speak of the heat and will have to concede the record to you folks this time for we have had hardly any real hot weather at all since Sheridan. I’m glad Ruby brought you those records for that Italian St. Song is one I’ve always wanted. Can’t you see Ruby passing me in the street without speaking to me? Neither can I and the rule doesn’t forbid me looking her up if we are in their vicinity. You remember reading of course about the sinking of the “Justica”? Well that is no doubt one reason you were so long getting word from us as she was one the boats in our convoy and returned from England with all the mail we wrote coming over, no doubt. Am sorry for there were some things allowed then that are not now and I cannot describe our trip over. Some time ago I told you I was sending home my bathing suit but have put it off till I can buy a few other things I want to send with it. I forgot to say anything to you about my insurance. In fact I had forgotten about it myself and here it comes due about the time this reaches you, but won’t have to be paid for a month so that will give you a little time at least. Next one comes due in April so I’ll leave it in your hands. When my bond comes due, if you can sell it, turn it in on what I borrowed for my furlough. Well, I really must close now for I have said about all there is to say about “this mans war”. Enclosing a little copy of a “pome” I wrote the other night between ambulances. I meant it for a letter to Virginia but it was longer than I intended it to be. Tell here I’ll write again in a day or two.

The short letter I sent you last week was written in such haste that I couldn't tell you any details so I'll go back now to the time we left our pretty little place on the Eastern part of France and try to give you a description of all that has taken place since.

On the morning of Sept. 16, we evacuated all our patients, and loaded our trucks after dinner. Our nurses left us in the afternoon and before suppertime, we were on our way to a little town some fifteen or eighteen kilometers south of us.

We arrived there before dark and had a good supper then Scotty and I pitched our "pup" tents and were lulled to sleep by the steady hum of the many airplanes overhead, for we were right next to a big aerodrome.

Next morning we loafed around and made a tour of the town trying to "swap" our "Bully" Beef for "oeufs" (pronounced "erfs") or as one would say at the candy kitchen, "eggs". We had no luck and all the "Frogies" would say (that's the doughboys name for the French) was "finis".

After dinner, Batly[?] and I walked over to the Aviation field and had our first close-up view of the English bombing planes. One can hardly believe their eyes when you get up so close! They are so big that their wings have to be folded back in order to put them in their hangars. They measure over one hundred feet from tip to tip and carry as many as twenty people. Military rules prohibit saying anything about the amount of bombs they can carry but I guess the people in Germany have decided they must carry at least as much as a battleship will. A Fritz plane dropped a twenty pounder almost on us at _____ and the concussion almost ruined everything within a quarter of a mile. These big planes carry bombs that weigh considerably more than one thousand pounds, and believe me, I want to be "a long way gone" when they fall. Jim and I climbed up in the pilot's seat and could almost imagine we were aviators, would that I was!

Well, to go on: We left the town on the 18th and started for our second turn at the front, this time for a real war. We passed through several real towns on our way and by suppertime of the second day, we pulled into a real city and were billeted in an old chateau grounds, next to a castle of an ancient Duke, after whom the city was named.

While here we had the opportunity of attending a show given by the Y.M.C.A. that was surely a scream. There was absolutely no plot but just a lot of foolishness and the most "pep" I ever saw in any bunch of entertainers. The performers were Margaret Mayo, who wrote "Baby Mine," Fannie Bryce of the "Follies of 1916," Grey & Morrisey two of the worlds craziest comedians and last, but far from the least, came little Lois Merideth, the prettiest little move star on the screen. And, don't tell anyone, I had a front seat! You never heard such noise! The fellows haven't stopped talking yet.

But this is getting long & I haven't told you our war at all. On the night of the 21st we again piled on trucks and accompanied by a fleet of airplanes, we made a run over open roads to a woods a short distance from the lines. Here we camouflaged ourselves and awaited orders and the second night we were there still on our trucks, we were awakened by a succession of pistol shots and the terrible screeching of klaxons, the signal for gas. There was such a scramble for our masks and those few seconds were sure agony until we had them on, it being our first experience with real gas. However, the gas didn't reach us and we were soon out of our masks and asleep again only to be awakened shortly after by another alarm, this being followed by shellfire from the Germans. The shells landed on all sides of us but none came very near and the next afternoon we made a run for our location and by nightfall we were all set, ready for business.

Wednesday, all day, the Germans sent over a lot more shells, hoping to draw our fire and locate our guns but never once did our guns respond. Not until nearly midnight did they answer and such an answer! The whole world seemed to be exploding at once! All along the front for about forty miles, our artillery with the French, were giving Fritz the most terrible barrage he ever knew. As the time went on the noise increased and by daylight, the noise itself would almost drive a man insane. Then it stopped! What an awful silence! But we knew what it meant; our boys were over the top! All that day they went on and on, through the rain and mud and for almost a mile behind the German lines, not a live person was found. But, oh the slaughter! But still they say the Americans are "tin soldiers." I dare not say how far we advanced but (when) you read in the papers of the drive of the Americans beginning September 26. Well, that was "us"! For five days the boys went on and on, without sleep or food and nothing seemed to stop them. We took one hill in seventeen minutes, which the French had been trying to take for four years, and according to the papers, they spent thousands and thousands of lives in their attempt. And the Kaiser said we couldn't fight! Oh, how he fooled himself. For three days the prisoners came back in hordes. The roads were so bad that it was impossible to get the wounded back so, about forty of our men were sent up with another hospital to work up near the lines. Out of the forty, only one of our men were injured, Les Wilson being the lucky cuss, getting a slight cut on his forearm, but enough to entitle him to wear a gold chevron on his right arm.

We handled only gas patients and had quite a few of them, none serious however, most of them being cases of utter exhaustion, together with a little gas. Johnny Miller was also slightly wounded but is already back with his company.

Tuesday night our division was relieved and we got some much-needed rest. Thursday, who should pay us a visit but Col. Ben Hough, Capt. Chisledine, Major McIver and Johnny Rae, all of the forty-second division, a few miles behind us coming up to take their positions and keep things going. It was sure a treat to see them and they brought regards from all the fellows we knew.

We pulled out of there that night about midnight and after two days travel, landed in a little town where we are now resting, prior to going to a quiet sector for a little bit of rest. But there will be no rest of for the Boche! We have enough men now to keep him going everywhere at once and if they don't watch out, he is sure in for a dose of his own medicine. I understand our division has been cited for its work and we have been made a "shock" division, a very great honor indeed. Hurrah for the 37th! Well, I'll have to hire a special censor to OK this for is has surely gone over the limit. This may be handed to Kenny and may be considered by all who read it as though it were sent to them personally, for a fellow hasn't time in this mans army to write many letters.

Will start a letter but no telling when it will be finished or mailed for just now I am sitting in a little “cupola” on the top of a boxcar, in northern Belgium. All around me is a flat barren waste that is, it looks flat from a distance but it is a solid mass of shell holes, in every direction. As for trees, there are none; only the scarred trunks standing like ghastly sentinels over what was for four years, one of the hardest fought over localities of the war.

It is raining a little and the mud is like a sea and I am black as a nigger having just finished two days and nights in a boxcar. But we’re happy and well. My table is my gas mask, supported on my knees. Wading around in the mud are hundreds of men in khaki, many British Tommies, gangs of Chinese laborers, and “beaucoup” Frenchmen in their dirty blue uniforms. Trucks are moving in all directions on the roads and overhead, great flocks of airplanes are going and coming.

Well it’s been a long time since I wrote before and we have seen lots of country since, so I’ll have to go back a little. When you last heard from me we had just been relieved from our offensive west of Verdun and from there we went up to the line in front of Metz (editor’s capitalization) where we saw just a little action. We were close to the lines there but were at the foot of a high cliff, in the shape of a horseshoe, with the lines beyond the hill. Occasionally we would be awakened by a high explosive over head and would hear the shrapnel fall on the roofs but they couldn’t hit us so we rested in peace. We left there at the end of the week and went back near Toul (?) for a little rest then entrained again, on the same little boxcars as before (our first trip across France) and for two days and nights we’ve been coming across France. Went clear over to the coast again and up the coast, passing through many large towns then last night, we swung inland again, waking up this morning in Belgium. We are many miles from the front but will go on up as soon as we get our trucks again.

I wrote to Virginia while we were at our last place at the front and promised to write again the next day, but if you knew the army, you would wonder that anyone ever found time to write. While I think of it, Scotty sent home a copy of the “Stars and Stripes,” with the account of our Verdun drive so if you will run over there I think she will let you have it to read. It is a better account than I could write, and covers more detail. I have a large map of France that I keep track of all the advances on, also all our troops so I can give you all the dope when I get back.

Maybe, by the time this reaches you, the war will be over, only remember what I said, be careful “how you think”! Over confidence is a dangerous thing just now and although we all believe it will be over by Xmas, we won’t be surprised if it lasts through next summer. I am enclosing my Xmas label for my Xmas box and let me relieve your mind as to what to send. There is absolutely nothing I need! All I want is chewing gum and maybe a little sweet chocolate. Each man can only receive one box so it will be from everyone.

Don’t feel badly because you can’t send more for we don’t need one thing! I sent home a German helmet last week also my “chewed up” bathing suit, which, if you can match the color of, see if it can be fixed.

Just a little foresight; last spring at Sheridan, I sent home a new pair of khaki trousers, clean but streaked. As soon as the war is over, I wish you would wash them again, hang them out to dry without wringing them out, starch them lightly and press them up for me; press the same as any trousers, with an extra crease along the seam on the leg. I will want to get into them as soon as I get home. We haven’t had any mail for almost two weeks now so there will probably be a lot of it at our next stop.

Must write to Dad and Mrs. Gray again and tell them not to try to send me anything for Xmas for if a man has two packages, both are thrown out. If anyone wants to send anything, it will have to be a paper dollar or two in a letter. That’s always acceptable.

Tell Virginia not to worry, I’ll write here just as soon as possible. I wish I knew where Ben was, for I haven’t written to him since I came over.

I don’t know how much action we will see on the front for it seems a problem to keep up with the Germans; they are retreating so fast. But, if we do catch up, well they will get the same stuff they got at Verdun.

Well I must call this a letter now for my hands are so cold I can hardly hold the pencil.

Basil B. Fees 147 Field Hospital 112 Sanitary Train American Expeditionary Forces

C.H. Hamilton 1st Lt. M.C.U.S.A.

ON ACTIVE SERVICE
WITH THE
AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCES

Dad’s Birthday November 3, 1918

Dearest Mother & All,

Still in Belgium, yet a long ways from where I wrote you last. We moved up into action this week and we are now so far back that you can scarcely hear the biggest guns. The first night it seems they were almost of top of us but they were too much for Fritz and he’s been running ever since.

You don’t know how much I appreciated your letter of Oct 2, which reached me a few days ago. Still I don’t hear from Virginia. Something is wrong some place for if she writes two or three times a week, I surely ought to get some of them when the other fellows get all of theirs. I don’t believe I have missed any of yours for each seems a continuation of the one before. I realize that you haven’t much time and I don’t worry. But I’d like to know why I don’t get Virginia’s. Get her to give you her letters to mail with yours and see if that will help matters any.

I see by the papers that the Influenza epidemic has been knocking the boys off in camp in the states and I figure we are lucky to be over here. Next Spring will probably see us on our way home or at least in the final drive for the Boche will never hold against our Spring offensive if they hold that long.

No telling how long we will remain up here and some of these days may find in Italy, France or any other place for we don’t remain long in one place. Here we gained all our objectives ahead of time and we may stay here for another trick. No one knows and we are always wondering, “Where do we go from here”? Just wrote Mrs. Gray a letter and I must try and get a little sleep before supper so will have to call this quits for now. Sorry, still I’m glad Ruby did get to come over for it is anything but pleasant work for a girl.

Love to all.

Basil

Censored by Geo. M. Kern Capt. M.C.U.S.A.

ON ACTIVE SERVICE

WITH THE

AMERICAN EXPEDIONARY FORCES

NAME Basil B. Fees 147 Field Hospital 112 Sanitary Train

Nov 9, 1918

Dear Mother and all,

The last few days at home have probably sent the folks wild with enthusiasm with all the rumors of Peace. Austria (is) out of it. Turkey occupied by the British and last, that Germany has quit. But, as usual, the guns are still booming and there are no signs of a cessation of hostilities except the wild rumors. No one thinks seriously about it and we all look forward to a long winter campaign. There is only one way out and that is the unconditional surrender. Either that or the complete annihilation of the German race.

We are still in Belgium and may go into another drive here. However, we are not sorry for this country is open, flat and, with lots of rain, it never gets muddy. The people here are so different too. Everything we do is so much appreciated and, in spite of their four years of slavery, they are still able to meet one with a smile. Speaking of the charms of a French Mademoiselle, I must say that the Belgium girls have them beaten every way. I don’t believe I saw a dozen good-looking girls in all of France but here they are plentiful. I haven’t talked to them in either country, but by the expressions on their faces, I’ll hand the prize to Belgium. We have had a lot of civilian sick in our own hospital and the people are strong in their gratifications. One little girl (a beauty almost 10 years old) was injured by a bomb explosion, having her leg broken. It needed the best of attention so we made arrangements with a civilian hospital at Dreggier (?) to care for her and the men in the company each contributed a little and made up a pot of nearly two hundred francs, which will insure her the best of care and eventual recovery.

We also have adopted a “war orphan” so you see we are doing more than fighting the Dutch.

You seem to worry a little when my letters are delayed but there are times when one can’t write. When we are in action or moving, it is an impossibility so please don’t worry if it is a stretch or two between them. I have to smile at Helen (name unreadable) writing to you for my address. When I first went to Sheridan, I wrote her and she never answered so I dismissed her from my mind and thought she had done the same. I’ll have to drop her a card and tell her I’m married. Someday, though I doubt it. Perhaps Virginia has a divorce for all I hear from her. I’ve only had the two letters from her since we left New York. Recently, I’ve had mail from everywhere it seems, from Critzen (?), from the whole gang on the “See and Bee”, From Toledo, Mrs. Gray, Dad, Bodertha and even from Mich ag. Colleen G (friend I met in Toledo.) In fact everyone seems to write but Virginia and I get all their letters. There is a “hitch” some place. There shall be a great day of reckoning some of these days when we see the old shores again of “Gods Country”.

Dad is (illegible) in Brownsville (PA, per note from Robert Fees). I sent him a Boche belt buckle for a souvenir, which will probably tickle him immensely. Wilber and Brumbaugh have left for a training camp and there will be a few weeks now getting our new “noncomms” broke in. However, every one is in favor of the promotions we will all like our new “illegible”.

Sent Virginia a white lace collar yesterday made by the Belgium women. Well I must stop now. Glad you got to see some real stunts pulled off by the aviators.

Love to all

Basil

Censored by Geo. M. Kern Capt. M.C.U.S.A

ON ACTIVE SERVICE
WITH THE
AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCES

In Belgium Nov 14, 1918

Dearest Mother of mine, and all the rest, am I awake or is it all wonderful dream? Right here we have all done our own little bit to cause the greatest event in the history of the world, save of course One. And it’s all over! No more ambulances rolling in with pieces of men. No more thundering of cannon. No more roaring of shells. And the last few nights have been as bright as day, still the weird hum of “Jerry’s” machines hasn’t been heard and there are no more “earthquakes” from his bombs! The silence almost hurts, yet oh, it is such a relief to know that it is finished. God finally got tired of His “self appointed” partner and I wonder what the German people will now think of their beloved hobby, “Me und Gott”. Man may be defiant of his brothers but not with God. It has been hard at times to figure out why He allowed this to go on, but stop and think how much good has been accomplished, even though the price was high. He always knows best. Well mother dear, I have neglected you quite a bit in the last few months but I’ve tried to write when I had time. I haven’t told you of any of the horrors of the war nor of our dangers for I knew you would worry but you know we haven’t been “playing” all the time. We are still under strict censorship rules but they will soon be raised I believe. We are still in Belgium at the same place as where we started. What do you think of our record: not a man killed, and only one slightly wounded. Every man is well and feeling fine. We have started training again so we may be in trim for our march to Berlin(?) (Ed note: Bas’s question mark).

Nobody knows where we are going but we all do know that some of these days we are going home! Home! How much that word means! Not a mere house to live in and a place to eat but, oh, the love and companionship it holds for a man. When this big army gets back, tell Warren to get back into the ministry! A minister is going to become a millionaire off his marriage fees!

But in the midst of all the joy and happiness comes all the sad news from the ‘States”. So many dying every day! I have been in kind of a daze since this afternoon over your word that Clara is dead. Dead! Surely I am dreaming! Lloyd will surely never be able to stand the blow. We get hardened to death over here but when it comes from home it strikes a tender spot.

Still I don’t worry about you or Virginia even with her in charge of influenza patients. We never think about (that) over here except to get our daily douche of “anti-flu”. I wrote her a big long letter the other day, half scolding her for not writing. I tried not to hurt her feelings for I know how sensitive she is. If my Xmas label doesn’t reach you in time, don’t worry. You always ask about sox. I still have two good pair of the ones you made me and plenty of the Government Issue. I am saving yours for the severe weather but the sox we get are very good and heavy. There isn’t a thing you could send that we need so cease worrying. Our greatest crave is sweet chocolate. The night I had a dream and all I remember about it is that I was home again and went in (illegible) and bought a block of plain milk chocolate.

The dollar you sent was surely welcome and I wish the folks at Xmas time, instead of trying to buy me presents, would send me a dollar or two, for stuff is high over here in the way of eats. A ten-cent cake of chocolate at home sells for five francs over here, which is a little less than $1.00 and the stuff is poor at that. This is all the paper I have so must draw this to a close. Scotty sends his love and wants you to call up Mrs. Callander and tell her (illegible) were only so darn happy he can’t get down to write a letter. Dayton sends his regards, as do all the boys. Everyone is up to the top notch in health and happiness.

Wrote a note to Ruby last night. Have never heard from Grandma Sheets nor Uncle John. Say, I’d sure love to have a nice mess of that pig! Pork, we never get. Ham is over four dollars a pound, and eggs one franc (20 cents) apiece. We don’t eat away from the company very often. I’m so glad you got a good view of the airplanes. One of the boys had a clipping saying that one of the big Handley-Page bombing planes flew over the city. Didn’t the size of it almost scare you? Wouldn’t that buzzing noise get on your nerves? It might when you knew he had a load of bombs with your “address” on each one off them. But now the moon is a pleasant thing to look at again and “The Horrors of the Moonlight” are over! My reading in the little Testament has suffered during the past busy months, but now I shall try to make up for lost time. Love to all. Basil

Censored by Geo. M. Kern CAPT, M.C.U.S.A.

PS Mrs. Limley sure has a surprise ahead of her if she comes now for I have seen enough of “Nurses Aids” to know what they do. Scrub floors, empty bedpans and all the dirty work in the hospital. Anything but write letters for patients! Oh, Ho. Ho. She will want to quit before she begins.

ON ACTIVE SERVICE
WITH THE
AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCES

Belgium, Nov 27, 1918

Dear Mother and all,

I have been trying for some time to get a letter written to you but each day something turns up to interfere. About all we've been doing since the war ended is move. We followed up through Belgium at first then started back and now we are in the same town and same buiildings we occupied as a hospital during our first drive in Belgium. How long we will remain here before returning to France is still a question but probably in the next few days we will be on our way again. Rumors are running wild that we will be one of the first divisions home but every division over here has the same dope. Remember how I kept warning you not to look too far ahead as to the end of the war? Well now I'll have to admit that we all were somewhat surprised but we all had a "hunch" that when snow fell, old Fritz would begin to squeal. Did I ever tell you the slogan of the whole A.E.F.? It was supposed to have started with General Pershing and every man adopted it. It was "Hell, Heaven or Hoboken by Christmas." If Pershing started it, he knew what he was talking about anyway.

November 24th was "Dads Day" in the A.E.F. and every man was given permission to write a full description of his travel, battles, etc. I wrote to Dad and told him every place we gave been since leaving New York, but to date our company has received no official order to pass them by the censor and they are still being held, pending the arrival of that order. When it comes, we will probably be allowed to write the same stuff to mothers and then you will know all our little "secrets."

The land in Belgium is very productive; no hills, many canals, fertile soil and very little timber. I don't blame the Belgians for fighting for their country. This morning I took a long hike through the country and stopped at a big windmill, the kind you see in pictures of Holland. The country is full of them and they are powerful machines. It's funny though, how little work can be done by them, just like the old water wheels that used to be scattered throughout the country at home.

I wrote a short letter to Virginia yesterday which will probably reach her about the same time as this. Must close now but will write from our next stopping place. Merry Christmas to all. (Save some of that pig for I'm hungry for pork and peaches.

Love to all,

Basil

ON ACTIVE SERVICE
WITH THE
AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCES

Meulebeke, Belgium, Nov 30, 1918

Dearest Folks,

The lid is off. Now see if your guesses as to our locations have been right. Get out your map and look closely for I shall follow our course on my map.

First, let me say that we went almost to the North Pole coming across and were in "The Land of the Midnight Sun" for several days and it was light enough all night to read on deck. We landed at Glasgow, Scotland then (travelled) down through England passing through Stratford-on-Avon and Oxford, stopping for a couple of days at Winchester then to South Hampton and sailed from there out the East Course (Coast?) to the East of the Isle of Wight.

Now take your map: We landed at Cherbourg, almost directly south of the western end of the Isle of Wight. Take your blue pencil, get on the train at Chergourg, (go) south to Valognes, Corentau, Boyeux, Caen, Lisieux, Birnaym Beaumont, Conches, Eureux, Mantes. Then (on to the) northern and Eastern suburbs of Paris, Tournau, Rogoy, Villers-s'Geroges, up to Esterney, down to Villenaux to Romilly-au-seine, Troyes, east to Vendeuvres, Chaumont, northeast to Nerfchateau then south to Bourmont, on the Meuse River. Here is where we made our first stop and (where) we were outfitted. A week later we travelled by trucks from Bourmont to Neufchateau, then East through Charmes to Rambervillers where we stayed another week and experienced our first air raid. From here we went to Baccarat where we occupied our first bit of the front. It was here we found Ed Millers grave, and where we had all those air raids. Had a fine location here in an old estate. We stayed here until the middle of September when we again went by trucks to Rambervillers, then North to Luneville, Nancy, Toul, Void, stopping for several days ar Bar-le-Duc, where we had our barracks inside the wall of the old Duke of Bar's castle.

From there we went north to Brabant, a small town a little west of Verdun, and direclty south of Montfaucon. It was here we started our big drive of September 26, attacking the strongest point of the entire German line. In one week we had broken through and had passed well beyond Montfaucon, endangering the whole German army west of here and causing the withdrawal of the Dutch in Belgium. From here we (moved) over the same route to a little town called Trussey just outside of Toul, where we rested a couple of days. Then north to Boullionville, near Thiaucourt where we simply held the line for a weeks rest. Then we moved back to Pagny-sur-meuse, just outside of Toul stopping for a couple fo days at Brindley (also known as Toul). Here at Pagny we entrained in box cars again and went back to Neufchateau, then back on our old route through Paris then north through Creil, Clermont, St. Just, Amiens, northwest to Abbeville, then north along the coast through Etafiles, Bologne, Calais, Dunkerque, the over to Yfres, the city I first told you of when I wrote you from the top of my little box car, looking over no-man's land. From here we went to Staden where we established a camp hospital for the division sick.

Then we went on up through Routersand Ingelmunsted to Meuselbcke where we again set up for action. We remained here throughout two drives and outside of a few air raids we had a very nice place in a convent. Here we were when the war ended and shortly afterward we moved on up through Thief, Dernze, and across the Escant (Scheldt) River to Laethem St. Maria, then back to Durize then to Oost-Roosefiche, the back again to Meulebeke where we still remain, waiting for orders to move back into France.

This hasn't been much of a letter but it has given all our travels and when I get back I can explain each in detail. Save this and let Virginia read it then if you want to send it on, alright, only ask for its return. Some of these name maybe a little different from the way your map gives them but my map is, of course a french one and the spelling is all according to French.

The days from now on are dragging slowly for all we look forward to is our return to America. You would be surprised how warm it is here for we are as far north as the sourthern end of Hudson Bay and as yet we have had very little cold weather and no snow. When we get back into France it will be colder for here we have the Gulf Stream breeZes and the give us the warm air of the tropics.

Still I get no mail. A couple of weeks ago, I got more than my share and I though it was going to come right along but since then, all I've had has been one from Dad and one from Bodurtha.

In my last I asked you to save some of that Porker. All the pork we've had has been some salty fat bacon about a month (ago). We are hungry for some good ham and fresh pork. Also, for fruit of all kinds and jellies. Potatoes? No! and beef stew, never again. For Thanksgiving we had good steak, cabbage salad, and fine pumpkin pie and it tasted almost as good as turkey. We intended to have Rabbit but rabbits sell for 10 francs (about $2) each we couldn't stand that.

Did the bells awaken you on November 11? I bet they just raised the roofs and all bells & whistles joined in the grand celebration.

Well, I will have to draw the line now and save something to talk about when I get back. It won't be very many months at the most and who knows, we may be one of the lucky ones to be home in January or February. Must close now with loads of Love to all.

Basil

ON ACTIVE SERVICE
WITH THE
AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCES

Alencoun, France Dec 17, 1918

Dearest Mother,

It has been an awful long time since I sat down to write you a letter and now I’ll have to make good for the delay. This morning I got your letter of November 21 with your picture in it. Mother dear, there is nothing I’ve wanted more for years. It is a very good picture only, really, are you as old as that? I’m afraid this war has made you several years older and (unreadable) you will have to start to get young again. Am sorry about my label (?) but I wouldn’t feel bad if there wasn’t any package at all for I believe now we will soon be home and that’s the best Christmas present of all. Had a letter from Ruby last week and she told me what she sent you for me. I bet it almost broke you heart, but mother dear, you don’t understand and I know it’s useless to try to convince you that a cigarette is not harmful. However, I am not going to continue the habit around the house when I get home. I wrote to Virginia the other day and told her to share it with you. It was a big long letter and told of our traveling since leaving Belgium. We will be leaving here tomorrow or next day for our concentration camp preparatory to going home.

I am glad you mentioned the little “Business” proposition in your letter for really, I never thought of things that way.

So Virginia says we are going to be married as soon as I get home, if we have to live in one room! Well, when we will be married is a question, but listen mother dear, that one room stuff is not in my blood! I love my dear little girl too much for that. She is so deeply in love that I’m afraid it has intoxicated her somewhat and all she can dream of is me and what follows makes no difference. But!!

I’ve been in love too many times before and have gone through that stage where one thinks the Cupid will wash the dishes and where one can live on love alone. I have seen too much of that kind of love and I don’t want it. It doesn’t keep! When I get home, I shall, first of all, find out where I stand and what kind of a business proposition I can make. If Sells will keep their promise and if I am assured of a good place with them permanently in Delaware or in any other town permanently, I shall accept it. Then I shall figure on keeping house. Never have I dreamed of getting married before I can see what’s ahead of me. I shall first have a house of my own, and while I am paying rent on it, I shall be paying for it also and in a few years, it will be mine. But! There shall be room in it for mother, first of all! She is the best girl I ever had and I’m not going to turn her down for any other! If Virginia won’t have it that way, well, her little heart will have to be broken. I have never said anything to make her think otherwise. Surely, I believe a young married couple ought to be by themselves for a little while at first anyhow and for that time you could take you long needed vacation. If such a thing should happen that we were to be married in the spring, we would stay with you until fall any way. That’s entirely up to her. So far, I haven’t even a diamond for her and I don’t believe in Ben’s kind of a wedding. There is as much to be done yet and everything is as indefinite that I am not even making any plan. For the present, the war is over and we are all out of it well and with not a casualty. The ten dollars you sent me a week or so ago was a big present all in itself and surely was a help.

The thing I’m looking forward to is some of that pig! Ham and eggs! Are there really such things or is it just a dream? The other night we had cold boiled ham and one slice a piece cost the company almost $100. We still have quite a little sum in our mess fund and if we ever get where we can buy stuff, we will feast for a few days at least.

Today is the coldest we’ve had yet and even now it isn’t cold enough to snow. However, when we get farther sought in France it will be colder for here we are protected by the warm Gulf Stream blowing up the coast.

Am awfully sorry that I haven’t been able to send any Christmas presents this year, but after all, a present only stands for our best wishes and I’ve sent them to everyone I could think of. The helmet has probably reached you by this time as I sent it late in September. Second class mail is very slow.

I was certainly sorry to hear about Sweany’s death, as well as Clara’s. Am I a “Jonah” or something? It looks like a girl is taking a big chance to cast her love lines in my direction, doesn’t it? But I’m not superstitious and have no fears for the future. (Editor’s note: If anyone has any thoughts about what he is talking about I would appreciate it.)

Sorry to hear that Ben is so careless about his correspondence. Is he still mad because you would keep his youngster?

Well I must close now with love to all and please mother, don’t worry about the finances of the future. Hope to see you all in the near future, Basil

P.S. I see by the Advocate that Warren is to go to two churches in the Youngstown district together with a Rev. Cooper.

ON ACTIVE SERVICE
WITH THE
AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCES

Alencoun, France January 17, 1919

Dear Mother and all,

This morning I have a little time owing to the high water occupying our de-lousing plant so I’ll get that long delayed letter off to you before dinner. It has been several weeks since I wrote last but most of that time we have been on the move.

From Wormhoudt we came by truck to this place taking four days to make the trip.

We had a very nice trip all the way and this part of the country, being far from the lines, is indeed very beautiful.

France has it on America for its highways and it’s a rare thing to find a bad road. Up long hills through beautiful, fertile valleys, dense forests, then on up the other side over a winding, wonderfully graded road to the crest of the next hill.

The third night of the trip, we stopped in a little town of less than 300 inhabitants and the entire train (1000 men) was turned loose to find billets. Floyd Blasey, from Pittsburgh, and myself gave it up after a few hours search and decided to walk on to the next town and find a bed there. Well, we started out and we walked and walked, every place we stopped, no one seemed to want to take us in. So we kept on walking. At last we came to a little village and thought surely we had a place to sleep but the same old story. We had already walked 20 kilometers (12 1/2 miles) and we were getting tired. To make it worse, we had been walking on in a light rain and against a blinding, head-on wind for the last two hours. Every two kilometers, after the first ten, we laid down on the lee-side of a tree and went to sleep in the wet grass until we awoke, almost froze.

By this time we were almost ready to declare war on some of the farmers but fortunately we decided on a different plan. The next barn we came to, we crawled up in the haymow and were soon fast asleep. No sooner had we got in, when it started a heavy down pour and the wind threatened to blow the roof from our barn. But it didn’t. We awoke about seven o’clock and started out again on the way to the next town. We walked 10 more kilos and just reached the town when our first truck came along. Fortunately though, it was way ahead of the train so we persuaded them to wait till we bought some fruit and nuts for our breakfast. Then we came on and got in this town shortly after noon, where we had a good dinner and afterward were assigned to a good billet in a former creamery.

Two days later, I went along with a truck-train after our officer’s baggage, a trip of 215 kilos to a great American I.M. (?) Camp. We made the trip down there in one day, fully a two days trip. It was useless however for we had to wait there for three days on the baggage to arrive by train. Going down we passed through two large towns, both pretty well ‘Americanized’. The first was Le Mans, the great concentration point of all divisions returning to America. (We are in the Le Mans area now.) The next big town was Blors, on the river Loir. It was a real town and we were to spend the night here, however the chief-of-staff said no so on we went. The second night we were at Givers (the name of the town where the big camp is) Haldeman and I decided to see a little more country and we caught a truck-train going on south to Viergon and reached that place about eight o’clock. We were a little disappointed with the place for we expected a real sure-enough city. It was quite a town but no Americans were there and there were no amusements. We walked the town over, then went back to the French Red Cross restaurant at the depot and sat around till after midnight, then caught a troop train (the same kind we traveled before consisting of nothing but freight cars) and road “on the roof” all the way back to o