TRANSCRIBED FROM THE LOG CABIN DEMOCRAT DECEMBER 5, 1988 P. 7
November 3, 1918.
Dear Mama:
I just wrote to you yesterday, but I find that I have a little spare time tonight, so shall write a few lines.
You may find someone in Conway who had no Christmas package coupon so I am sending a few.
I received a letter from Willie yesterday, and she seemed to be well pleased with her work. She said that she was teaching French, Latin and English, which are the same subjects I taught at Crossett. I hope she does not have to teach under the same difficulties.
I am learning to understand French slowly. It is very difficult to understand a native Frenchman. They talk like a streak of lightning, and it makes no difference how many of them there are around, they all talk at once. You can tell them to speak more slowly and they will say oui! oui! oui! and then start over again just as fast as ever. Sometimes they make me so sore that I feel like fanning them with a brick.
Everything is outrageously high, but when you tell them “trop cher,” they will begin at once to tell you how good it is and how cheap it was before the war, which does not help matters any now. I bought a raincoat sometime back which was a little better than the average coat and it cost me 175 francs, which is the equivalent to about $35.
I forgot to tell you in my last letter that I saw Will Erbacher in Paris when I was there the last time. He was the first person that I have seen from home since my arrival in France, and he was as glad to see me as I was to see him.
Well, I know nothing of interest to write except that we are daily making “Fritzy” acquainted with the fact that Uncle Sam did not come over here on a picnic excursion. Sometimes the boys in the artillery will shoot across and then signal “count your men, Bill.” I expect to be in Conway before this time next year. I am changing my address again. I shall write you as soon as I am sure what it will be.
Lovinging,
Jamie
NOTES: This letter was written by Lieut. James A. Anderson.
TRANSCRIBED BY SHANNON SOUTHARD
November 3, 1918.
Dear Mama:
I just wrote to you yesterday, but I find that I have a little spare time tonight, so shall write a few lines.
You may find someone in Conway who had no Christmas package coupon so I am sending a few.
I received a letter from Willie yesterday, and she seemed to be well pleased with her work. She said that she was teaching French, Latin and English, which are the same subjects I taught at Crossett. I hope she does not have to teach under the same difficulties.
I am learning to understand French slowly. It is very difficult to understand a native Frenchman. They talk like a streak of lightning, and it makes no difference how many of them there are around, they all talk at once. You can tell them to speak more slowly and they will say oui! oui! oui! and then start over again just as fast as ever. Sometimes they make me so sore that I feel like fanning them with a brick.
Everything is outrageously high, but when you tell them “trop cher,” they will begin at once to tell you how good it is and how cheap it was before the war, which does not help matters any now. I bought a raincoat sometime back which was a little better than the average coat and it cost me 175 francs, which is the equivalent to about $35.
I forgot to tell you in my last letter that I saw Will Erbacher in Paris when I was there the last time. He was the first person that I have seen from home since my arrival in France, and he was as glad to see me as I was to see him.
Well, I know nothing of interest to write except that we are daily making “Fritzy” acquainted with the fact that Uncle Sam did not come over here on a picnic excursion. Sometimes the boys in the artillery will shoot across and then signal “count your men, Bill.” I expect to be in Conway before this time next year. I am changing my address again. I shall write you as soon as I am sure what it will be.
Lovinging,
Jamie
NOTES: This letter was written by Lieut. James A. Anderson.
TRANSCRIBED BY SHANNON SOUTHARD