TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ARKANSAS DEMOCRAT FEBRUARY 21, 1918 P. 2
Dear Father and Mother:
I received your letter of January 3, and am certainly glad to hear from you again. This mail service is awful. I have received about six letters since I landed over here, and believe me, I feel blue. I received a card from Miss Cozie Patterson and was so surprised and tickled, that, figuratively speaking, I almost died. I will answer it immediately.
We had one of the most inspiring scenes yesterday that can be imagined; a company of French soldiers are billeted here for a rest. Our band went out to meet them and escort them in. They were almost worn from their long hike from the trenches to this place, and as all the bands had been broken up and the men put to fighting the sound of music cheered them wonderfully and they marched in, looking very brave and heroic. It made them realize that we were able to help them and they show their appreciation in every way. They are jolly and willing to help the Americans whenever they can. They are as fine a lot of people as you ever saw and are sure enough fighters.
The two officers who room with me and I have adopted one of the privates who speak English fluently and who was in the trenches with the Americans. The French soldier is not as big as the American, but is short and sturdy in nature. We quickly learned to admire them for their many fine qualities. They are extremely polite and willing to assist us in any way possible.
I am with a good outfit and a fine bunch of officers. All of them are the kind on men anyone would be proud to associate with. We are doing intensive training now and are making fine progress; the men put their whole souls into the work and we enjoy training them.
You would probably like to know what we mean by the word “billet.” Well it is a barn with enough hay and loft space for a given number of men with horses and cows below. Since we have learned how to arrange them we are quite comfortable and getting along fine. It is quite funny to see the places the natives live. The women come out about eight o’clock in the morning and open a side door and out will come cows and hogs, all living in the building with the people. We do not see any young or middle aged men. Nothing but the old men, women and children, all others being in the military service.
You asked what I need, it is hard to say. We have all the absolute necessities, but there are many things that are not included in the list of things that we brought from the U. S. A. I would like for you to send me once a month the following articles: Mentholatum, Prince Albert tobacco, tooth paste, tooth brush, shaving cream, soap, chewing gum, nuts and candies. All of these things are very helpful and seem necessary. The village stores are not what they are at home. The things you have sent were certainly appreciated. Mother, you can’t realize how much like children we act when we get a box from home; we simply go crazy with delight. No use sending anything to wear, since it takes so long for things to reach me it will be warm weather before they get here.
These French soldiers are making us realize what the Huns are. We are getting to the point where we are determined that they shall be licked. I do not know how soon I will be in the trenches. Keep the letters coming, maybe I will get them some time.
Your loving son,
FRANCIS.
(Chas F. Cargile, Second Lieut., M.G.C.,
167th Infantry, 42nd Division,
A.E.F., via New York.)
NOTES: This partial letter was written by Charles Francis Cargile to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. J. S. Cargile of Arkadelphia, Arkansas He was born on November 9, 1896 in Union County, Arkansas and died on July 12, 1962 at San Angelo, Tom Green County, Texas. He is buried in the Fairmount Cemetery in San Angelo. He was described as being tall and medium build with gray eyes and brown hair. He was a graduate of the first Officers Training Camp at Leon Springs, Texas.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
Dear Father and Mother:
I received your letter of January 3, and am certainly glad to hear from you again. This mail service is awful. I have received about six letters since I landed over here, and believe me, I feel blue. I received a card from Miss Cozie Patterson and was so surprised and tickled, that, figuratively speaking, I almost died. I will answer it immediately.
We had one of the most inspiring scenes yesterday that can be imagined; a company of French soldiers are billeted here for a rest. Our band went out to meet them and escort them in. They were almost worn from their long hike from the trenches to this place, and as all the bands had been broken up and the men put to fighting the sound of music cheered them wonderfully and they marched in, looking very brave and heroic. It made them realize that we were able to help them and they show their appreciation in every way. They are jolly and willing to help the Americans whenever they can. They are as fine a lot of people as you ever saw and are sure enough fighters.
The two officers who room with me and I have adopted one of the privates who speak English fluently and who was in the trenches with the Americans. The French soldier is not as big as the American, but is short and sturdy in nature. We quickly learned to admire them for their many fine qualities. They are extremely polite and willing to assist us in any way possible.
I am with a good outfit and a fine bunch of officers. All of them are the kind on men anyone would be proud to associate with. We are doing intensive training now and are making fine progress; the men put their whole souls into the work and we enjoy training them.
You would probably like to know what we mean by the word “billet.” Well it is a barn with enough hay and loft space for a given number of men with horses and cows below. Since we have learned how to arrange them we are quite comfortable and getting along fine. It is quite funny to see the places the natives live. The women come out about eight o’clock in the morning and open a side door and out will come cows and hogs, all living in the building with the people. We do not see any young or middle aged men. Nothing but the old men, women and children, all others being in the military service.
You asked what I need, it is hard to say. We have all the absolute necessities, but there are many things that are not included in the list of things that we brought from the U. S. A. I would like for you to send me once a month the following articles: Mentholatum, Prince Albert tobacco, tooth paste, tooth brush, shaving cream, soap, chewing gum, nuts and candies. All of these things are very helpful and seem necessary. The village stores are not what they are at home. The things you have sent were certainly appreciated. Mother, you can’t realize how much like children we act when we get a box from home; we simply go crazy with delight. No use sending anything to wear, since it takes so long for things to reach me it will be warm weather before they get here.
These French soldiers are making us realize what the Huns are. We are getting to the point where we are determined that they shall be licked. I do not know how soon I will be in the trenches. Keep the letters coming, maybe I will get them some time.
Your loving son,
FRANCIS.
(Chas F. Cargile, Second Lieut., M.G.C.,
167th Infantry, 42nd Division,
A.E.F., via New York.)
NOTES: This partial letter was written by Charles Francis Cargile to his parents, Mr. and Mrs. J. S. Cargile of Arkadelphia, Arkansas He was born on November 9, 1896 in Union County, Arkansas and died on July 12, 1962 at San Angelo, Tom Green County, Texas. He is buried in the Fairmount Cemetery in San Angelo. He was described as being tall and medium build with gray eyes and brown hair. He was a graduate of the first Officers Training Camp at Leon Springs, Texas.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT