TRANSCRIBED FROM THE NEWPORT INDEPENDENT JULY 6, 1918 P. 4
Camp Greene, Charlotte, N.C.
Yesterday the calm of a perfect afternoon was broken by the keen notes of officers call. It attracted attention by the unusualness of the hour. As the enveloping atmosphere was pierced, all hearts were set ashore. From every direction the quickening steps of officers led toward headquarters. Multiplied suggestions passed between the men of rank. Our conflub was short. As quickly the officers returned to their respective charges, they unbarred to us a doorway which led to a truth I must also tell to you. We were sent to our tents for a hurry-up "show down" inspection, followed by a rolled pack.
Sharply at 4 a.m. today the first notes of Reveille greeted our ear. Not a soul asked for a longer stay in slumber land. We were off for that long-looked-for land. The freshness of the hour added vigor to our preparation. At 9 o'clock, with full equipment and the "slum wagon" we were entrained. Now our unit is rolling across the cotton fields of Dixie, leading to France.
To quote the words of Baker: "The unit of keenest cut soldiers in the United States army"--3rd Regiment M.M. of which I am a member, is starting on a long, long journey, and a spirit of solid confidence hovers ovtr us as we are glad to leave loved ones and native country behind. Not that we are starting on a glorious vacation, for only inconvenience and seclusion is before us. We are facing rivers of blood surrounded by hills which belch forth volleys of personified hell. Pain and misery is to be our lot. But why shirk the duty that calls and the inevitable outcome which leads but to the furtherment of civilization.
As I enter those terrible fields, mother, in vision, I am sure that you will walk shoulder to shoulder with me. I enter this conflict with a buoyant heart and think only of the aching of your enfeebled soul. You and father have spent an illustrious past for me and your reward is certain. Keep your mind free from my inconvenience and hardship and you will be materially aiding me to carry my part well. I do not want to think of you as pining away an old life while I am answering a nation's call. Of course it is a long, long trail which leads back to you and home, but some day I will be winding it homeward. We will bring back with us Old Glory, the same undaunted flag on which America now boasts. And then, mother, you will be glad that I took my stand for you, my flag and my country. I would like to tell you many things which the solemnity of my oath now permits not. I'll keep them for my homecoming. Though my stay may be long and the hours go slowly by, these are my parting words:
"It may be forever,
If fortune isn't fair,
It may be for only awhile
And we'll do the rest
Just send me away with a smile"
With a kiss and tenderest wishes,---- close.
Your Soldier Boy,
Grover.
NOTES: Grover Cloe Carnes was born on November 10, 1889 in Memphis, Missouri and died in Stuttgart, Arkansas on December 20, 1961. He is buried in the Lone Tree Cemetery in Stuttgart. He was writing to his parents George and Martha Carnes of Dewitt, Arkansas. He departed from Brooklyn, New York on July 22, 1918 onboard the patria. He was listed as a Corp. serving in 10th Co. Third Motor Mechanic Regiment Signal Corps. He departed St. Nazaire, France on July 9, 1919 onboard the Amphion. He was listed as a Sgt. serving in St. Nazaire Casual Co. #1644.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
Camp Greene, Charlotte, N.C.
Yesterday the calm of a perfect afternoon was broken by the keen notes of officers call. It attracted attention by the unusualness of the hour. As the enveloping atmosphere was pierced, all hearts were set ashore. From every direction the quickening steps of officers led toward headquarters. Multiplied suggestions passed between the men of rank. Our conflub was short. As quickly the officers returned to their respective charges, they unbarred to us a doorway which led to a truth I must also tell to you. We were sent to our tents for a hurry-up "show down" inspection, followed by a rolled pack.
Sharply at 4 a.m. today the first notes of Reveille greeted our ear. Not a soul asked for a longer stay in slumber land. We were off for that long-looked-for land. The freshness of the hour added vigor to our preparation. At 9 o'clock, with full equipment and the "slum wagon" we were entrained. Now our unit is rolling across the cotton fields of Dixie, leading to France.
To quote the words of Baker: "The unit of keenest cut soldiers in the United States army"--3rd Regiment M.M. of which I am a member, is starting on a long, long journey, and a spirit of solid confidence hovers ovtr us as we are glad to leave loved ones and native country behind. Not that we are starting on a glorious vacation, for only inconvenience and seclusion is before us. We are facing rivers of blood surrounded by hills which belch forth volleys of personified hell. Pain and misery is to be our lot. But why shirk the duty that calls and the inevitable outcome which leads but to the furtherment of civilization.
As I enter those terrible fields, mother, in vision, I am sure that you will walk shoulder to shoulder with me. I enter this conflict with a buoyant heart and think only of the aching of your enfeebled soul. You and father have spent an illustrious past for me and your reward is certain. Keep your mind free from my inconvenience and hardship and you will be materially aiding me to carry my part well. I do not want to think of you as pining away an old life while I am answering a nation's call. Of course it is a long, long trail which leads back to you and home, but some day I will be winding it homeward. We will bring back with us Old Glory, the same undaunted flag on which America now boasts. And then, mother, you will be glad that I took my stand for you, my flag and my country. I would like to tell you many things which the solemnity of my oath now permits not. I'll keep them for my homecoming. Though my stay may be long and the hours go slowly by, these are my parting words:
"It may be forever,
If fortune isn't fair,
It may be for only awhile
And we'll do the rest
Just send me away with a smile"
With a kiss and tenderest wishes,---- close.
Your Soldier Boy,
Grover.
NOTES: Grover Cloe Carnes was born on November 10, 1889 in Memphis, Missouri and died in Stuttgart, Arkansas on December 20, 1961. He is buried in the Lone Tree Cemetery in Stuttgart. He was writing to his parents George and Martha Carnes of Dewitt, Arkansas. He departed from Brooklyn, New York on July 22, 1918 onboard the patria. He was listed as a Corp. serving in 10th Co. Third Motor Mechanic Regiment Signal Corps. He departed St. Nazaire, France on July 9, 1919 onboard the Amphion. He was listed as a Sgt. serving in St. Nazaire Casual Co. #1644.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD