TRANSCRIBED FROM THE COURIER DEMOCRAT FEBRUARY 28, 1918 P. 4
"At Sea,"
February 3, 1918.
Editor Courier-Democrat:
Here I am, somewhere on the cold and briny sea, with the waves rolling high It was December 4 when we pulled out of New York harbor with a bunch of transports for France. We are now returning from our second trip since that day, having made our return from the first trip abount January 1, at Hampton Roads, Va. We only stopped there long enough to take on coal; then on the way with another bunch of ships, soldiers and merchandise.
I could not tell the hardships and difficulties we had. This new life is filled with many fearful and exciting experiences. I live from day to day wondering what will happen next. I can hardly realize that I am the same boy who a few months back was turning and tilling the soil around Moreland.
We had a rough and tumbling sea most all the time on both trips. A mess table was a useless piece of furniture, and about the only way we could get anything to eat was to get our hands full and secure ourselves around a stansion or something while we ate. I saw a big wave go rushing over the quarter-deck and sweep a boy overboard. Efforts were made to rescue him, but the mighty waves swallowed him under and he was never seen again. We were made to wear life-belts and a canteen filled with water all the time, day and night after we entered the war zone or "danger zone."
Dear reader, can you imagine how you would enjoy sleeping in a hammock, with a life preserver and a canteen buckled around you? No, it is not like sleeping in mother's bed at home, but we are here for a cause, and I pray we are in the right. Then I believe God will lead us to victory, and we will all come marching safely home.
It's a very beautiful and interesting sight to see the submarine destroyers and chasers doing patrol duty along the French coast. They seem to come from all directions, and it looks as though they search every square foot. If Mr. Submarine were anywhere about they surely would find him. We have not been attacked yet, but we were only about ten hours run from the destroyer Jacob Jones, which was sunk in December.
The band-master said to me the other night while we were standing on the superstructure, "In all of my fifteen years at sea I have never seen anything equal to the last two months. We have headed into one storm after another continually."
We will land in port pretty soon. The boys are all eager to hear the bugler sound Liberty Call.
Hoping the editor and all readers of the C-D much success in the year 1918. I am,
Your Sailor Lad,
B. N.
NOTES: There is no other identification other than the initials B.N.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
"At Sea,"
February 3, 1918.
Editor Courier-Democrat:
Here I am, somewhere on the cold and briny sea, with the waves rolling high It was December 4 when we pulled out of New York harbor with a bunch of transports for France. We are now returning from our second trip since that day, having made our return from the first trip abount January 1, at Hampton Roads, Va. We only stopped there long enough to take on coal; then on the way with another bunch of ships, soldiers and merchandise.
I could not tell the hardships and difficulties we had. This new life is filled with many fearful and exciting experiences. I live from day to day wondering what will happen next. I can hardly realize that I am the same boy who a few months back was turning and tilling the soil around Moreland.
We had a rough and tumbling sea most all the time on both trips. A mess table was a useless piece of furniture, and about the only way we could get anything to eat was to get our hands full and secure ourselves around a stansion or something while we ate. I saw a big wave go rushing over the quarter-deck and sweep a boy overboard. Efforts were made to rescue him, but the mighty waves swallowed him under and he was never seen again. We were made to wear life-belts and a canteen filled with water all the time, day and night after we entered the war zone or "danger zone."
Dear reader, can you imagine how you would enjoy sleeping in a hammock, with a life preserver and a canteen buckled around you? No, it is not like sleeping in mother's bed at home, but we are here for a cause, and I pray we are in the right. Then I believe God will lead us to victory, and we will all come marching safely home.
It's a very beautiful and interesting sight to see the submarine destroyers and chasers doing patrol duty along the French coast. They seem to come from all directions, and it looks as though they search every square foot. If Mr. Submarine were anywhere about they surely would find him. We have not been attacked yet, but we were only about ten hours run from the destroyer Jacob Jones, which was sunk in December.
The band-master said to me the other night while we were standing on the superstructure, "In all of my fifteen years at sea I have never seen anything equal to the last two months. We have headed into one storm after another continually."
We will land in port pretty soon. The boys are all eager to hear the bugler sound Liberty Call.
Hoping the editor and all readers of the C-D much success in the year 1918. I am,
Your Sailor Lad,
B. N.
NOTES: There is no other identification other than the initials B.N.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD