TRANSCRIBED FROM THE COURIER INDEX FEBRUARY 7, 1919 P. 4
American Army of Occupation
Sinzig, Germany, Dec. 19.
My Dear Sister Less:
I don't feel very good tonight. My pal and I had a supper prepared out last night. We ate so much and drank so much coffee that neither of us could sleep. We lay in bed and discussed the war all night long.
We are well situated in the above town, which is our place of guard duty on the Rhine. I am honestly sleeping in a bed with a feather pillow, in one of the swellest buildings yet. This is a town of plenty and it seems so strange to be here after staying so long in the devastated parts of France. Most of us never dreamed that we would ever have the opportunity of buying all we wanted to eat until we landed back in New York, and we have often planned how we would "line up" before the largest fruit stand there and buy it completely out. But, by the way, most of us have just about spent all of our francs and marks, with cakes and pies still in the show windows. We have been here three days and I have been letting the corn Willie and slum rest, living, mostly off of ginger cakes and pies and having a good meal cooked by some Dutch lady about once a day.
Well, the town is full of German soldiers recently mustered out, in civilian clothes and perfectly harmless. Some of which we have met on far less peaceful grounds.
Well, of course you want to know how the civilian population treat or take us. Well, of course, they hated to lose the war, and until a very few months ago never had the least idea of doing so. Some of them are a bit melancholy, but I honestly believe that's caused from losing their own people to the war more than by losing the victory. Most of them are very jolly. Their soldier boys, as you say, have at least come home safe.
Most of the boys have beds to sleep in, which is an extremely new experience since I am here among them I wish a hundred times a day that I could speak a little Dutch, for instance when a pretty little girl of about eighteen years, dressed very American-like, passes you up, giving you a teasing little smile, just "lacke" your best girl used to do. I say it would make anyone want to speak a little Dutch.
It is one mile over to the Rhine river. Think perhaps I shall go over and take a look at it tomorrow, but I fear the boats will make me homesick, and by the way, I hope to be at least preparing to come home when you receive this letter.
Just six days until Christmas. Sorry I can't be there but glad to believe that some of the doughboys who fought with the English will. I notice they are decorating the show windows here very much as we do at home. But I bet they decorate with eggs and potatoes in France.
Have had two letters from you recently but none from Jessie.
I am sorry about the Xmas box but it isn't my fault, for I mailed it first day it was issued to me Somehow, I hope to get it anyway.
Heaps of love to all.
Your loving brother.
COOPER.
NOTES: Cooper Andrew Barnett was writing to his sister Mrs. W. M. Daniel of Marianna, Arkansas. He was born in Kosciusko, Mississippi on March 20, 1896 and died on September 22, 1938 in San Antonio, Texas. He is buried in the Forest Hill Cemetery in Memphis, Tennessee. He departed New York, NY onboard the North Carolina on August 5, 1918. He was serving as a Private in the 324th Infantry. He departed Brest, France on April 15, 1919 onboard the Aquitania. He arrived in Hoboken, NJ on April 25, 1919. He was serving as a Private in HQ Co. 167th Infantry.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
American Army of Occupation
Sinzig, Germany, Dec. 19.
My Dear Sister Less:
I don't feel very good tonight. My pal and I had a supper prepared out last night. We ate so much and drank so much coffee that neither of us could sleep. We lay in bed and discussed the war all night long.
We are well situated in the above town, which is our place of guard duty on the Rhine. I am honestly sleeping in a bed with a feather pillow, in one of the swellest buildings yet. This is a town of plenty and it seems so strange to be here after staying so long in the devastated parts of France. Most of us never dreamed that we would ever have the opportunity of buying all we wanted to eat until we landed back in New York, and we have often planned how we would "line up" before the largest fruit stand there and buy it completely out. But, by the way, most of us have just about spent all of our francs and marks, with cakes and pies still in the show windows. We have been here three days and I have been letting the corn Willie and slum rest, living, mostly off of ginger cakes and pies and having a good meal cooked by some Dutch lady about once a day.
Well, the town is full of German soldiers recently mustered out, in civilian clothes and perfectly harmless. Some of which we have met on far less peaceful grounds.
Well, of course you want to know how the civilian population treat or take us. Well, of course, they hated to lose the war, and until a very few months ago never had the least idea of doing so. Some of them are a bit melancholy, but I honestly believe that's caused from losing their own people to the war more than by losing the victory. Most of them are very jolly. Their soldier boys, as you say, have at least come home safe.
Most of the boys have beds to sleep in, which is an extremely new experience since I am here among them I wish a hundred times a day that I could speak a little Dutch, for instance when a pretty little girl of about eighteen years, dressed very American-like, passes you up, giving you a teasing little smile, just "lacke" your best girl used to do. I say it would make anyone want to speak a little Dutch.
It is one mile over to the Rhine river. Think perhaps I shall go over and take a look at it tomorrow, but I fear the boats will make me homesick, and by the way, I hope to be at least preparing to come home when you receive this letter.
Just six days until Christmas. Sorry I can't be there but glad to believe that some of the doughboys who fought with the English will. I notice they are decorating the show windows here very much as we do at home. But I bet they decorate with eggs and potatoes in France.
Have had two letters from you recently but none from Jessie.
I am sorry about the Xmas box but it isn't my fault, for I mailed it first day it was issued to me Somehow, I hope to get it anyway.
Heaps of love to all.
Your loving brother.
COOPER.
NOTES: Cooper Andrew Barnett was writing to his sister Mrs. W. M. Daniel of Marianna, Arkansas. He was born in Kosciusko, Mississippi on March 20, 1896 and died on September 22, 1938 in San Antonio, Texas. He is buried in the Forest Hill Cemetery in Memphis, Tennessee. He departed New York, NY onboard the North Carolina on August 5, 1918. He was serving as a Private in the 324th Infantry. He departed Brest, France on April 15, 1919 onboard the Aquitania. He arrived in Hoboken, NJ on April 25, 1919. He was serving as a Private in HQ Co. 167th Infantry.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD