TRANSCRIBED FROM THE BENTON COURIER FEBRUARY 21, 1918 P. 7
To The Benton Courier:
As the saying goes, "quiet before the battle is on here now." and I think I will try to spin off a few lines to my home paper to let its many readers know a few of the happenings of Camp Hancock, Ga. What I mean by "the quiet of the battle" is that I am soon to move again, and this time I will take quite a jump. God knows when, I don't. But here's hoping that it won't be long, for I have my blankets all in a roll and it is now 12:30 at night and I am sitting out on my barracks bag waiting for the order to march. We had chow at ten bells tonight, packed up at four o'clock and was put on three hours' notice today noon, and we are not gone yet. You men and boys who have never been in the army and around camps don't know what this means, but perhaps some of my old pals who are in the service will read this and if they are they will sure know what it means.
Say, some of you good people will read this, and who know Walter Foster and John Watson, will you send me their addresses, or send them mine and tell them to write? I sure would like to hear from them or any of my old friends from around Bland who are now in the service. No one but a soldier boy knows the pleasure of meeting an old friend and saying "Come on, pal, go into my tent and let us talk about such and such girl." When the conversation starts all join in and you chat for about an hour. Then you take a stroll down the company street and go over to the Y.M.C.A., and get down to times when both went with the same girl and rehearse everything she has said about both. Then we compare notes of old times when we were in school together and used to peck one another over the head with buckets, sticks, or anything else. Then the bugle begins to blow the first call and all hands have to hunt a hole. Soon the order goes down the line, "all lights out." You have stayed with your old pal a little too long and have to slip in line or received three days K.P. Now some of you may want to know what K.P. means. Well, that is kitchen police, meaning three days' work on the wood pile cutting wood or washing dishes: that is what is meant by K.P. Well, boys this is what it meant to meet an old friend on this side of the pond, but I guess it will be more of a pleasure to meet some one you know over there. Please let these boys know my address.
Well, you can talk of pretty weather; but we sure are having it here in Georgia. It seems just like spring and would be a fine time to plant corn. Seems as though I ought to be following old Beck, but instead I am following the Stars and Stripes.
Boys, you don't know what it is to respect and salute the flag. When you learn to salute it every morning and evening, then only, you will learn to take your hat off when the dear old flag is raised. Now don't think I mean that you people do not respect the flag. I know you do this, but it means a whole lot more, boys, to follow it everywhere it leads you and stand attention when the band plays the Star Spangled Banner. You boys who are staying behind and hoping for the time to never come when you will have to go out and stand up for what Uncle Sam claims to be right, and what is right are not only endangering your flag, but you are making the burden harder for we boys who are standing up for the right. And, boys, you really are taking the lives of your friends by not getting into the fray and helping the boys win the war. I don't mean for the married men to come into this let them stay and take care of the loved ones at home and raise food while we whip the kaiser; let them stay and protect the dear girls and home ties for us. Let us remember that we want a true and honest girl to come back to for a wife when this war is over. All of us are not going to meet death while we are across the pond, and we want some deal girl for a wife when we return. So, come on boys, don't be a slacker and stay at home, and lie to some honest and true girl and marry her when she really loves some boy who is somewhere in France defending his and your country and home. From the wearing apparel and the good eats we boys receive, the women of this generation are really as patriotic as anyone can be, probably more so than the boys. So don't stay there and get them to become the wife of a slacker when her real lover is on the battle front in France.
Well, I will have to close for this time. By the time you good people of Saline county read this you can say that the writer is some where on his way to France, but the censor does not premit me state where I go from here. Good luck to my many friends and readers of The Courier. Perhaps I will next write to you from somewhere in France. Good luck to all.
Private Talmage Coker.
1st Col, 2d Reg., M.M.S.C. Camp Hancock, Ga.
NOTES: Samuel Talmage Coker was born in Benton, Arkansas on August 1, 1894 and died on September 7, 1963. He is buried in the Old Union Cemetery at Congo, Arkansas. He registered for the draft in Oklahoma.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
To The Benton Courier:
As the saying goes, "quiet before the battle is on here now." and I think I will try to spin off a few lines to my home paper to let its many readers know a few of the happenings of Camp Hancock, Ga. What I mean by "the quiet of the battle" is that I am soon to move again, and this time I will take quite a jump. God knows when, I don't. But here's hoping that it won't be long, for I have my blankets all in a roll and it is now 12:30 at night and I am sitting out on my barracks bag waiting for the order to march. We had chow at ten bells tonight, packed up at four o'clock and was put on three hours' notice today noon, and we are not gone yet. You men and boys who have never been in the army and around camps don't know what this means, but perhaps some of my old pals who are in the service will read this and if they are they will sure know what it means.
Say, some of you good people will read this, and who know Walter Foster and John Watson, will you send me their addresses, or send them mine and tell them to write? I sure would like to hear from them or any of my old friends from around Bland who are now in the service. No one but a soldier boy knows the pleasure of meeting an old friend and saying "Come on, pal, go into my tent and let us talk about such and such girl." When the conversation starts all join in and you chat for about an hour. Then you take a stroll down the company street and go over to the Y.M.C.A., and get down to times when both went with the same girl and rehearse everything she has said about both. Then we compare notes of old times when we were in school together and used to peck one another over the head with buckets, sticks, or anything else. Then the bugle begins to blow the first call and all hands have to hunt a hole. Soon the order goes down the line, "all lights out." You have stayed with your old pal a little too long and have to slip in line or received three days K.P. Now some of you may want to know what K.P. means. Well, that is kitchen police, meaning three days' work on the wood pile cutting wood or washing dishes: that is what is meant by K.P. Well, boys this is what it meant to meet an old friend on this side of the pond, but I guess it will be more of a pleasure to meet some one you know over there. Please let these boys know my address.
Well, you can talk of pretty weather; but we sure are having it here in Georgia. It seems just like spring and would be a fine time to plant corn. Seems as though I ought to be following old Beck, but instead I am following the Stars and Stripes.
Boys, you don't know what it is to respect and salute the flag. When you learn to salute it every morning and evening, then only, you will learn to take your hat off when the dear old flag is raised. Now don't think I mean that you people do not respect the flag. I know you do this, but it means a whole lot more, boys, to follow it everywhere it leads you and stand attention when the band plays the Star Spangled Banner. You boys who are staying behind and hoping for the time to never come when you will have to go out and stand up for what Uncle Sam claims to be right, and what is right are not only endangering your flag, but you are making the burden harder for we boys who are standing up for the right. And, boys, you really are taking the lives of your friends by not getting into the fray and helping the boys win the war. I don't mean for the married men to come into this let them stay and take care of the loved ones at home and raise food while we whip the kaiser; let them stay and protect the dear girls and home ties for us. Let us remember that we want a true and honest girl to come back to for a wife when this war is over. All of us are not going to meet death while we are across the pond, and we want some deal girl for a wife when we return. So, come on boys, don't be a slacker and stay at home, and lie to some honest and true girl and marry her when she really loves some boy who is somewhere in France defending his and your country and home. From the wearing apparel and the good eats we boys receive, the women of this generation are really as patriotic as anyone can be, probably more so than the boys. So don't stay there and get them to become the wife of a slacker when her real lover is on the battle front in France.
Well, I will have to close for this time. By the time you good people of Saline county read this you can say that the writer is some where on his way to France, but the censor does not premit me state where I go from here. Good luck to my many friends and readers of The Courier. Perhaps I will next write to you from somewhere in France. Good luck to all.
Private Talmage Coker.
1st Col, 2d Reg., M.M.S.C. Camp Hancock, Ga.
NOTES: Samuel Talmage Coker was born in Benton, Arkansas on August 1, 1894 and died on September 7, 1963. He is buried in the Old Union Cemetery at Congo, Arkansas. He registered for the draft in Oklahoma.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD