TRANSCRIBED FROM THE HUNTSVILLE REPUBLICAN OCTOBER 10, 1918 P. 1
April 4th 1918,
Dear Editor:
Military rules will not permit me to tell you where I am or how I got here, however, I landed safely in “Sunny France.”
The voyage which I’ve so longed for is now only a remembrance in the blinded light of memory. I cannot tell you much about the voyage, where we embarked, where we disembarked but a few experiences I shall take a chance of telling, anyway.
It was about 11 A.M. the third day out. I was out on deck. The sun was shining in all it’s glory. Thoughts shot through my mind which thrilled me through and through, first of the dear ones at home, second of the deep blue sea. All at once waves began beating against the sides of the ships which made it rock to and fro. The waves leaped higher and higher. We were in a storm. Finally one huge wave succeeded in leaping on deck which filled our eyes, nose, mouth and ears with salt water and of course left us all soaking wet. We went below and put our rain coats which we wore the remainder of the voyage regardless of rain or shine.
Next morning no one cared to come on deck. All seemed to have the “blues.” At 9 A.M. the Mess call was sounded. We had hardly more than entered the mess room door when something (which cannot be described) happened. I can only give my experience of the incident. Well to begin with, I remember my mess-kit being filled with rice, meat, bread etc. and my cup with coffee. The sea was so rough that the ship seemed to me would upset. I either dropped my mess-kit or some one ran against me and knocked it from my hands. (I don’t know which) I stooped to pick it up and that’s the last I remember very definitely, where was I? How can I get out? Am I sick? were the only thoughts that came to me. At last I got relief. Not only myself, but most all of the troops were lying on the floor or leaning against the wall either vomiting or trying to. Was I sick? the answer is, YES. But how sick? The next I remember was a waiter carrying a basket of bread accross the hall. He took sick and dropped the basket of bread, what became of the bread I don’t’ know but it was still going the last I saw of it. The waiter stopped and with a heave or two said, “Oh! Uh! Uh! I’m sea sick. I said “So am I” then went below to my bunk.
The remainder of the voyage was a pleasant one. When land was sighted we all came on deck. I doubt even Columbus being prouder to see land than were we.
After we landed we thought no more of the voyage but began to learn something of France. We were now a strange people in a strange land among strange people with strange language, manners and customs. But we soon began to adjust ourselves according to our inviorments.
According to history and geography France is a very odd country. This statement is confirmed by landmarks, such as roads, stone structures i e walls, castles and houses which could only be described by an artist. The houses are of the best ____type and very large. There are many other things which are different from things in the States and are of interest to the American solider.
Floyd Hughes is still with me and learning French fast. He can now say We We (Yes Yes.)
It is true that many of us had rather be at home among our own people than to be “over here” but since duty is first and now an absolute necessity, I had much rather be here than to be an old “feather-bed-patriot” talking and urging others to go, but when the call comes shirk and wither like a tiny plant on a mid-July day.
Respectfully Yours
Pvt. J. C. Dotson
NOTES: James Carey Dotson was born in Kingston, Arkansas on August 10, 1891 and died in Locust Grove, Oklahoma on March 4, 1953. He is buried in the Hogan Cemetery in Locust Grove. His military headstone identifies him as an Arkansas Pvt. serving in Co C 164th Infantry during World War I. He enlisted on December 14, 1917 and was discharged on March 12, 1919. He departed Hoboken, NJ on March 6, 1918 onboard Ship 55. He was listed as a Pvt. serving in Camp Pike Replacement Draft.
TRANSCRIBED BY JULIETTE FAITH ROBINSON
April 4th 1918,
Dear Editor:
Military rules will not permit me to tell you where I am or how I got here, however, I landed safely in “Sunny France.”
The voyage which I’ve so longed for is now only a remembrance in the blinded light of memory. I cannot tell you much about the voyage, where we embarked, where we disembarked but a few experiences I shall take a chance of telling, anyway.
It was about 11 A.M. the third day out. I was out on deck. The sun was shining in all it’s glory. Thoughts shot through my mind which thrilled me through and through, first of the dear ones at home, second of the deep blue sea. All at once waves began beating against the sides of the ships which made it rock to and fro. The waves leaped higher and higher. We were in a storm. Finally one huge wave succeeded in leaping on deck which filled our eyes, nose, mouth and ears with salt water and of course left us all soaking wet. We went below and put our rain coats which we wore the remainder of the voyage regardless of rain or shine.
Next morning no one cared to come on deck. All seemed to have the “blues.” At 9 A.M. the Mess call was sounded. We had hardly more than entered the mess room door when something (which cannot be described) happened. I can only give my experience of the incident. Well to begin with, I remember my mess-kit being filled with rice, meat, bread etc. and my cup with coffee. The sea was so rough that the ship seemed to me would upset. I either dropped my mess-kit or some one ran against me and knocked it from my hands. (I don’t know which) I stooped to pick it up and that’s the last I remember very definitely, where was I? How can I get out? Am I sick? were the only thoughts that came to me. At last I got relief. Not only myself, but most all of the troops were lying on the floor or leaning against the wall either vomiting or trying to. Was I sick? the answer is, YES. But how sick? The next I remember was a waiter carrying a basket of bread accross the hall. He took sick and dropped the basket of bread, what became of the bread I don’t’ know but it was still going the last I saw of it. The waiter stopped and with a heave or two said, “Oh! Uh! Uh! I’m sea sick. I said “So am I” then went below to my bunk.
The remainder of the voyage was a pleasant one. When land was sighted we all came on deck. I doubt even Columbus being prouder to see land than were we.
After we landed we thought no more of the voyage but began to learn something of France. We were now a strange people in a strange land among strange people with strange language, manners and customs. But we soon began to adjust ourselves according to our inviorments.
According to history and geography France is a very odd country. This statement is confirmed by landmarks, such as roads, stone structures i e walls, castles and houses which could only be described by an artist. The houses are of the best ____type and very large. There are many other things which are different from things in the States and are of interest to the American solider.
Floyd Hughes is still with me and learning French fast. He can now say We We (Yes Yes.)
It is true that many of us had rather be at home among our own people than to be “over here” but since duty is first and now an absolute necessity, I had much rather be here than to be an old “feather-bed-patriot” talking and urging others to go, but when the call comes shirk and wither like a tiny plant on a mid-July day.
Respectfully Yours
Pvt. J. C. Dotson
NOTES: James Carey Dotson was born in Kingston, Arkansas on August 10, 1891 and died in Locust Grove, Oklahoma on March 4, 1953. He is buried in the Hogan Cemetery in Locust Grove. His military headstone identifies him as an Arkansas Pvt. serving in Co C 164th Infantry during World War I. He enlisted on December 14, 1917 and was discharged on March 12, 1919. He departed Hoboken, NJ on March 6, 1918 onboard Ship 55. He was listed as a Pvt. serving in Camp Pike Replacement Draft.
TRANSCRIBED BY JULIETTE FAITH ROBINSON