TRANSCRIBED FROM THE SOUTHERN STANDARD OCTOBER 3, 1918 P. 4
Dear Mamma and Papa:
I am very conveniently located at a temporary camp in France. Was glad to get on land once more, although we had a very successful voyage across. We made the trip without a stop. But you know I never have thought but that I would get here perfectly safe. They claim that two subs were destroyed on the trIp. The fight was six miles from us, but I could see the chasers and hear the depth bombs go off.
We came into port here on a Tuesday, but I stayed on the ship and helped unload the cargo, and didn’t land until Friday. The town we are in is apparently a very old one. All the buildings are either stone or concrete covered with slate shingles. Some of them are badly in need of repair.
The people are more cheerful than I was expecting. All the women are dressed in black. Some of the girls are real pretty. Most of them seem to have nothing to worry about, while others have a sad look. There are always lots of children playing in the street. They are the sturdiest looking little fellows I ever saw. They will follow you around to see if you will give them some money, chewing gum or something.
Every street car I have seen has a girl conductor. They look good in their suits and caps.
I visited an old fort that sure shows the marks of time. Couldn’t learn anything about its history, but it must have been built in Napoleon’s time. Unless a fellow speaks French he can’t learn much about the history or condition of things.
The land is all fenced in small plots, but it is so rich that it makes lots of stuff.
I don’t hear much war news, that is, that amounts to anything. Have seen lots of wounded soldiers. Some of them discharged and going back to the States. Heard one talk that had been blown 30 feet in the air and was unconscious for 8 hours. His nerves were gone, but he was as cheerful as could be, and very free to talk. Most of them have an optimistic view of the war. One went so far as to sav that it would be over before the snow flies. I have talked with two boys who heard Gen. Pershing make a talk to a regiment of soldiers. Will not quote his words, but he said we might look for some great things in the next six weeks. That is direct, for they both told it exactly alike.
I read the New York Herald, published at Paris. It gives a very fair summary of the situation. Today’s paper said t was possible for Germany to fall back. Shorten her line and hold out for some time. I believe there will be peace negotiations this winter.
While there is not much fighting going on, I hope you got the Red Cross cards, for I know you were getting a little anxious. I would like to hear from you all too. The last letter I had was written at camp meeting and sent to camp Beauregard. I’m expecting some mail in a day or two.
Guess by the time this reaches you everybody will be busy picking cotton, gathering corn, etc. I am anxious to hear how the crop turns out and what you did about saving the hay. I would have tried to have gotton things in better shape if I had known I wasn’t going to get back for a few days. I am not going to camouflage anything about my condition when I write you at all, and I don’t want you all to when you write to me. If you are not getting along as well as you should I want you to let me know it. Be sure to let me know all about the crop turn out the price of cotton, etc.
I think I can tell you in my next letter where I am, for It think we will move from here right away.
Three days later. Didn’t get to mail this at the other camp, so will finish at my present location. We are in a quaint old town some distance behind the firing line, just got here this morning, so don’t know much about the place yet. Our trip from the other camp was somewhat tiresome on account of crowded conditions. We are not in barracks or tents but are billeted around at different places. Some are in store houses, some in barns, but I am in a dance ball. Sure is a nice place. Concrete building, plastered inside. Don’t know anything about how long we will be here. Wouldn’t care if we could stay here all the winter. Our Major said we might not be here but a few days and we might be here several months.
As M. P. told me that on a clear day we could hear the big guns firing at the front. Don’t guess we will hear them for some time as the rainy season has set in. It has rained every day since we have been here.
Camp meeting started one month ago yesterday, but it don’t seem like it has been that long. Guess I had better close and go to bed.
Will write again tomorrow.
With love to all.
Urb Bridges,
Co. A. 142 M. G. Battalion,
American Expeditionary Forces
NOTES: U. R. Bridges was born on February 4, 1888 and died on September 29, 1977. His military headstone identifies his as a Private in the US Army during WWI. He is buried in the Hollywood Cemetery in Clark County, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY ISAAC WOLTER
Dear Mamma and Papa:
I am very conveniently located at a temporary camp in France. Was glad to get on land once more, although we had a very successful voyage across. We made the trip without a stop. But you know I never have thought but that I would get here perfectly safe. They claim that two subs were destroyed on the trIp. The fight was six miles from us, but I could see the chasers and hear the depth bombs go off.
We came into port here on a Tuesday, but I stayed on the ship and helped unload the cargo, and didn’t land until Friday. The town we are in is apparently a very old one. All the buildings are either stone or concrete covered with slate shingles. Some of them are badly in need of repair.
The people are more cheerful than I was expecting. All the women are dressed in black. Some of the girls are real pretty. Most of them seem to have nothing to worry about, while others have a sad look. There are always lots of children playing in the street. They are the sturdiest looking little fellows I ever saw. They will follow you around to see if you will give them some money, chewing gum or something.
Every street car I have seen has a girl conductor. They look good in their suits and caps.
I visited an old fort that sure shows the marks of time. Couldn’t learn anything about its history, but it must have been built in Napoleon’s time. Unless a fellow speaks French he can’t learn much about the history or condition of things.
The land is all fenced in small plots, but it is so rich that it makes lots of stuff.
I don’t hear much war news, that is, that amounts to anything. Have seen lots of wounded soldiers. Some of them discharged and going back to the States. Heard one talk that had been blown 30 feet in the air and was unconscious for 8 hours. His nerves were gone, but he was as cheerful as could be, and very free to talk. Most of them have an optimistic view of the war. One went so far as to sav that it would be over before the snow flies. I have talked with two boys who heard Gen. Pershing make a talk to a regiment of soldiers. Will not quote his words, but he said we might look for some great things in the next six weeks. That is direct, for they both told it exactly alike.
I read the New York Herald, published at Paris. It gives a very fair summary of the situation. Today’s paper said t was possible for Germany to fall back. Shorten her line and hold out for some time. I believe there will be peace negotiations this winter.
While there is not much fighting going on, I hope you got the Red Cross cards, for I know you were getting a little anxious. I would like to hear from you all too. The last letter I had was written at camp meeting and sent to camp Beauregard. I’m expecting some mail in a day or two.
Guess by the time this reaches you everybody will be busy picking cotton, gathering corn, etc. I am anxious to hear how the crop turns out and what you did about saving the hay. I would have tried to have gotton things in better shape if I had known I wasn’t going to get back for a few days. I am not going to camouflage anything about my condition when I write you at all, and I don’t want you all to when you write to me. If you are not getting along as well as you should I want you to let me know it. Be sure to let me know all about the crop turn out the price of cotton, etc.
I think I can tell you in my next letter where I am, for It think we will move from here right away.
Three days later. Didn’t get to mail this at the other camp, so will finish at my present location. We are in a quaint old town some distance behind the firing line, just got here this morning, so don’t know much about the place yet. Our trip from the other camp was somewhat tiresome on account of crowded conditions. We are not in barracks or tents but are billeted around at different places. Some are in store houses, some in barns, but I am in a dance ball. Sure is a nice place. Concrete building, plastered inside. Don’t know anything about how long we will be here. Wouldn’t care if we could stay here all the winter. Our Major said we might not be here but a few days and we might be here several months.
As M. P. told me that on a clear day we could hear the big guns firing at the front. Don’t guess we will hear them for some time as the rainy season has set in. It has rained every day since we have been here.
Camp meeting started one month ago yesterday, but it don’t seem like it has been that long. Guess I had better close and go to bed.
Will write again tomorrow.
With love to all.
Urb Bridges,
Co. A. 142 M. G. Battalion,
American Expeditionary Forces
NOTES: U. R. Bridges was born on February 4, 1888 and died on September 29, 1977. His military headstone identifies his as a Private in the US Army during WWI. He is buried in the Hollywood Cemetery in Clark County, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY ISAAC WOLTER