TRANSCRIBED FROM THE MENA WEEKLY STAR JANUARY 16, 1919 P 4
Still no mail for me. In fact, I have had only three letters from you since landing—the last one being dated September 18. I don’t know exactly what the postal crowd is doing with my mail. Surely it is worth more to me than them. But still can’t always tell; may be holding back my mail was the cause of the Allied victory. If such was the case I will not complain; but not knowing for sure I cannot help but wonder.
I am still at Le Mons, a city of about 60,000 Frenchmen and lots of Americans. The latter will leave, however, as soon as possible; and then the Frenchies will have to get along as best they can.
There is a cathedral here on which work was started 1600 years ago–even before the Mena--Hot Springs railroad was at least agitated. The cathedral must have been a government job, for they say it is not completed yet. I have not seen it, but hope to, and if U.S. will pay me some francs will send you some postcard pictures of the city. I would like to see Paris before coming back, but not if doing so would delay me as much as 24 hours getting on a westbound boat. There is one more thing I want to experience and then my hunger for travel will be satisfied. That one thing is a trip across the Atlantic from East to West.
There are lots of bells here. Each church has a big clock and each clock strikes the time. No two clocks are together, so there is something doing in the ringing line. It sounds very pretty except late at night. Then it disturbs ones slumbers.
I read yesterday in a Paris edition of the London Daily Mail about the Vandervoort bank robbery–the first news from Arkansas in many moons.
Some guy once was drunk, evidently, said “Sunny France.” The gent was a plain liar. The sun does not shine here. I don’t know what it does, but it don’t shine. If these people could spend , the month of October in the Ozarks or twelve months in Texas, they would discover how hard the sun can shine when he gets up and humps himself.
I would like to hear from home–hear how you folks and Tom are getting along. Also if Don made lieutenant or captain. Guess he is back in Mena by now.
Well, I am feeling O. K. except for a slight bowel trouble presently. That is getting better, otherwise I am fit as a fiddle.
Keep the letters coming–I’ll get ‘em some time. I’ll try to write once each week.
NOTES: George Locke Clement was writing to his parents Mr. and Mrs. G. L. Clements. He was born on April 8, 1890 at Jonesboro, Arkansas and died on July 13, 1973. He is buried in the Pinecrest Memorial Park at Mena, Arkansas. When he enlisted he was working as a printer for the U.S. Government at Fort Worth, Texas. He had worked for the Mena Star operating the Mergenthaler [line-o-type machine]. He was described as being tall and of medium build with brown eyes and black hair.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
Still no mail for me. In fact, I have had only three letters from you since landing—the last one being dated September 18. I don’t know exactly what the postal crowd is doing with my mail. Surely it is worth more to me than them. But still can’t always tell; may be holding back my mail was the cause of the Allied victory. If such was the case I will not complain; but not knowing for sure I cannot help but wonder.
I am still at Le Mons, a city of about 60,000 Frenchmen and lots of Americans. The latter will leave, however, as soon as possible; and then the Frenchies will have to get along as best they can.
There is a cathedral here on which work was started 1600 years ago–even before the Mena--Hot Springs railroad was at least agitated. The cathedral must have been a government job, for they say it is not completed yet. I have not seen it, but hope to, and if U.S. will pay me some francs will send you some postcard pictures of the city. I would like to see Paris before coming back, but not if doing so would delay me as much as 24 hours getting on a westbound boat. There is one more thing I want to experience and then my hunger for travel will be satisfied. That one thing is a trip across the Atlantic from East to West.
There are lots of bells here. Each church has a big clock and each clock strikes the time. No two clocks are together, so there is something doing in the ringing line. It sounds very pretty except late at night. Then it disturbs ones slumbers.
I read yesterday in a Paris edition of the London Daily Mail about the Vandervoort bank robbery–the first news from Arkansas in many moons.
Some guy once was drunk, evidently, said “Sunny France.” The gent was a plain liar. The sun does not shine here. I don’t know what it does, but it don’t shine. If these people could spend , the month of October in the Ozarks or twelve months in Texas, they would discover how hard the sun can shine when he gets up and humps himself.
I would like to hear from home–hear how you folks and Tom are getting along. Also if Don made lieutenant or captain. Guess he is back in Mena by now.
Well, I am feeling O. K. except for a slight bowel trouble presently. That is getting better, otherwise I am fit as a fiddle.
Keep the letters coming–I’ll get ‘em some time. I’ll try to write once each week.
NOTES: George Locke Clement was writing to his parents Mr. and Mrs. G. L. Clements. He was born on April 8, 1890 at Jonesboro, Arkansas and died on July 13, 1973. He is buried in the Pinecrest Memorial Park at Mena, Arkansas. When he enlisted he was working as a printer for the U.S. Government at Fort Worth, Texas. He had worked for the Mena Star operating the Mergenthaler [line-o-type machine]. He was described as being tall and of medium build with brown eyes and black hair.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT