TRANSCRIBED FROM THE POCAHONTAS STAR HERALD SEPTEMBER 20, 1918 P. 3
"Over Here,"
July 28, 1918
Dearest Mother:
Have just finished reading Jessie's letter of June 27th. Sure glad to hear from home, and will celebrate by answering it right off the reel. Have told you in nearly every letter that we have a very hard time to find time to write. Well, things haven't improved any in that respect but for some reason or other I haven't much else to do, but eat supper this afternoon, so will make up for a little time.
Am still enjoying better health than some doctors. Have moved only once since writing you last and that was not very far. This particular section of the country is very famous for its mud, however, I don't find it much worse than Current or Black bottoms. My experience with Arkansas clay 'sorta' helps out. This is the first time I ever found that experience worth remembering though. Can't help but think of that blue mud, when I get so much on my shoes, that I have to stop and knock it off, so I can keep walking.
We had lots of fun a few nights ago. I went to bed about 9 o'clock and was sleeping away like a veteran. About 12 o'clock I was awakened by a big explosion which shook my billet. The first thing that I thought was, that Fritz was over head with a load of bombs, but when I listened, I couldn't hear any planes so I had another think coming. In a few minutes I heard the old familiar song of heavy iron over head, followed by the inevitable explosion. It was near enough, that it made me study some about taking to the timber, but a happy thought followed. I got to studying about what a big place this is and also what a good sized billet this is and when I got through I didn't see how Fritz had any chance of getting me, none at all. About this time another big one came over, bursted and I heard a sound like a cow kicking a coal scuttle over, out in the back yard. We got orders to move a few minutes later. It was surprising to see how many men were dressed and waiting. We moved a few hundred yards down the road and racked up there for the rest of the night.
Sure saw a lot of funny things, and if you ever saw a mad bunch, this sure was one. With just a little official encouragement, we would have made a bee line for Berlin. It sure is discouraging to be run clean out of your bunk right when you are enjoying it the most. A soldier gets to be sorta like a nigger though. Take awenty-four hour day instance instead of sleeping 8 hours or so a stretch, you get to the point where all that is necessary is to take a nap every time you can and just trust luck that you'll get a sufficient number of naps of long enough duration to do you. I have found it advantageous to refrain from washing your face, when you rise in the morning, if you are lucky enough to have had a nap about that time, because you might get a chance to sleep a little after breakfast and if you was your face with cold water and wake yourself all up, you might not be able to go to sleep. Things like that really happen. (Address my letters to Co. A 113th M. G. Bn., A.P.O., 749, American E.F.)
It sure is amusing to hear the boys talk about what they will do when the war is over. Walked up to a bunch in front of the billet the other day in time to hear the 1st Sergeant say, that he reckoned his daddy would have to fence the dining table in so as to keep him from grabbing up his grub and running out in the yard to eat it. You see when we are in the field, we file by the cook wagon, get out mess kits filled and walk off far enough to keep from being walked on by some fellow trying to juggle his coffee cup so as to keep a slice of bread that the cook balanced on it, from jolting into the mud.
Another said he reckoned he couldn't stay at home no more, cause he knew his folks wouldn't stand for him to run all the stock out of the barn every night, so he could sleep in there himself. This was right after we had spent a month or so sleeping in a barn, one that stock had to vacate so as to make room for us.
Certainly glad to hear about Ray's big business, and have been wanting to write him a letter but it's about all I can do to write what I do. Guess Sarah thinks I have been taken prisoner, or else listed among the missing.
I know that lots of change must be taking place in the States. It is too bad that it takes so much to wake them up. It's so far across the Atlantic, that it is hard to realize just what is going on over here, but I reckon the newspaper reports of things going on over here have made them sit up and take notice.
Hope Ray does not have to go. One in the family ought to be enough. If he does, I don't think he would ever get any further than training camp, for this won't last as long as it has by any means.
I had a letter from Mr. Hersley, the one Sarah mentioned I guess. Will answer it or try to when I get time. So tell him I received it and was glad to hear from him.
Oh, yes, I nearly forgot to tell you, and before I do I want you to know that it happens in all the best families over here. I have enjoyed the exciting game of shirt hunting, etc. It was my first one, found three, only three, and they were all big ones. Just big enough, so I told the man, (who by the way is of a prominent family in Memphis) that sleeps next to me, that they crawled off of him on to me. We all reported to the sanitary detachment and the man took us down to a creek bank where he had a big boiler of cerosote solution fixed up. All our clothes, every rag, our blankets and caps were soaked in it.
I have been smelling like creosote plant ever since. It was worth it though. The flies don't even light on me now. Will call this a letter for this time.
Love to all,
Sergt. William L Dickson.
NOTES: Dickson was writing from France.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
"Over Here,"
July 28, 1918
Dearest Mother:
Have just finished reading Jessie's letter of June 27th. Sure glad to hear from home, and will celebrate by answering it right off the reel. Have told you in nearly every letter that we have a very hard time to find time to write. Well, things haven't improved any in that respect but for some reason or other I haven't much else to do, but eat supper this afternoon, so will make up for a little time.
Am still enjoying better health than some doctors. Have moved only once since writing you last and that was not very far. This particular section of the country is very famous for its mud, however, I don't find it much worse than Current or Black bottoms. My experience with Arkansas clay 'sorta' helps out. This is the first time I ever found that experience worth remembering though. Can't help but think of that blue mud, when I get so much on my shoes, that I have to stop and knock it off, so I can keep walking.
We had lots of fun a few nights ago. I went to bed about 9 o'clock and was sleeping away like a veteran. About 12 o'clock I was awakened by a big explosion which shook my billet. The first thing that I thought was, that Fritz was over head with a load of bombs, but when I listened, I couldn't hear any planes so I had another think coming. In a few minutes I heard the old familiar song of heavy iron over head, followed by the inevitable explosion. It was near enough, that it made me study some about taking to the timber, but a happy thought followed. I got to studying about what a big place this is and also what a good sized billet this is and when I got through I didn't see how Fritz had any chance of getting me, none at all. About this time another big one came over, bursted and I heard a sound like a cow kicking a coal scuttle over, out in the back yard. We got orders to move a few minutes later. It was surprising to see how many men were dressed and waiting. We moved a few hundred yards down the road and racked up there for the rest of the night.
Sure saw a lot of funny things, and if you ever saw a mad bunch, this sure was one. With just a little official encouragement, we would have made a bee line for Berlin. It sure is discouraging to be run clean out of your bunk right when you are enjoying it the most. A soldier gets to be sorta like a nigger though. Take awenty-four hour day instance instead of sleeping 8 hours or so a stretch, you get to the point where all that is necessary is to take a nap every time you can and just trust luck that you'll get a sufficient number of naps of long enough duration to do you. I have found it advantageous to refrain from washing your face, when you rise in the morning, if you are lucky enough to have had a nap about that time, because you might get a chance to sleep a little after breakfast and if you was your face with cold water and wake yourself all up, you might not be able to go to sleep. Things like that really happen. (Address my letters to Co. A 113th M. G. Bn., A.P.O., 749, American E.F.)
It sure is amusing to hear the boys talk about what they will do when the war is over. Walked up to a bunch in front of the billet the other day in time to hear the 1st Sergeant say, that he reckoned his daddy would have to fence the dining table in so as to keep him from grabbing up his grub and running out in the yard to eat it. You see when we are in the field, we file by the cook wagon, get out mess kits filled and walk off far enough to keep from being walked on by some fellow trying to juggle his coffee cup so as to keep a slice of bread that the cook balanced on it, from jolting into the mud.
Another said he reckoned he couldn't stay at home no more, cause he knew his folks wouldn't stand for him to run all the stock out of the barn every night, so he could sleep in there himself. This was right after we had spent a month or so sleeping in a barn, one that stock had to vacate so as to make room for us.
Certainly glad to hear about Ray's big business, and have been wanting to write him a letter but it's about all I can do to write what I do. Guess Sarah thinks I have been taken prisoner, or else listed among the missing.
I know that lots of change must be taking place in the States. It is too bad that it takes so much to wake them up. It's so far across the Atlantic, that it is hard to realize just what is going on over here, but I reckon the newspaper reports of things going on over here have made them sit up and take notice.
Hope Ray does not have to go. One in the family ought to be enough. If he does, I don't think he would ever get any further than training camp, for this won't last as long as it has by any means.
I had a letter from Mr. Hersley, the one Sarah mentioned I guess. Will answer it or try to when I get time. So tell him I received it and was glad to hear from him.
Oh, yes, I nearly forgot to tell you, and before I do I want you to know that it happens in all the best families over here. I have enjoyed the exciting game of shirt hunting, etc. It was my first one, found three, only three, and they were all big ones. Just big enough, so I told the man, (who by the way is of a prominent family in Memphis) that sleeps next to me, that they crawled off of him on to me. We all reported to the sanitary detachment and the man took us down to a creek bank where he had a big boiler of cerosote solution fixed up. All our clothes, every rag, our blankets and caps were soaked in it.
I have been smelling like creosote plant ever since. It was worth it though. The flies don't even light on me now. Will call this a letter for this time.
Love to all,
Sergt. William L Dickson.
NOTES: Dickson was writing from France.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD