TRANSCRIBED BY MIKE POLSTON
TRANSCRIBED FROM THE LONOKE DEMOCRAT NOVEMBER 7, 1918 P. 6
Among the Pines
Somewhere in France
Oct. 3, 1918
Dearest Mother:
Your letters Nos 8 and 9, came a few days ago as usual awfully glad to hear from you, and to know all were well and doing fairly well.
I guess the beautiful grass and wild flowers will pass away now for we have had two nice frosts, and the nights are right cool over here.
France is a land of poetry until you meet some one then it is finished. The people are so poverty stricken that it is distressing. They live on corn bread, brown bread, milk and eggs, and of course wine, but the people in this part of the country are far better off than the ones nearer the front, for these people have a better chance to get things.
You should have seen your boy and another soldier from our company a few days ago when were were sent to one of the towns on M. P. duty. There was no bread at the hotel, so the lady sent us to the bakery for some, we couldn’t get it without a bread ticket, so we had to hunt up the mayor of the town and finally succeeded in making him understand what we wanted, for neither of us could talk much French. Eggs are awfully high, about nine cents a piece, but the “du Lait”---sweet milk is not sohigh, but very little of either do we fellows ever get, only on Sundays when we can go to town. The French always warm their milk before using. The price of milk is about eight cents per quart.
Some of the French people are very friendly and courteous to us boys, but the most of them only smile whey they see some money.
If the censor wasn’t on the job I could write you a book about this country, although being on the sea shore don’t see very much, but then again we see lots. Our headquarters are in a summer’s resort and the beach for miles and miles is one of the nicest I ever saw or read about, and a fellow can have lots of fun riding the breakers.
The majority of the boys are anxious to see some of the front for we know very little about war only the supply part, and we are there with the goods, and I believe this S O S ought to be proud of this branch of its service, for when it comes to lumber and timber we got them all skint. In ten hours we cut about 600 or 700 logs, so you see we are sawing some.
Some time ago I was away from the company for a couple of weeks, and while away I saw something I will never forget. It was a Frenchman butchering a hog, I guess you are familiar with the method they use in the U. S., well the French method is some different. First he knocks said porker in the head, then he cuts Mr. Hogs throat, but not until said hog is stone dead, next, in place of hot water and knife to do the barber act, he builds a fire of straw and proceeds to burn the hair off of Mr. Hog. The whole
operation took time enough for an American butcher to have killed and cleaned a dozen such hogs. This is just a sample. You see everything is so primitive.
I wish I had a Kodak I would take some pictures and when I return I would show and explain said pictures for there is some wonderful scenery. While making a trip across France some months ago, I saw several water whales, and a curious sight is the curbstone wind mill, I can’t figure out how they work for they are very large and heavy. Everything is abandoned. It is like a phamtom country. France seems to have dropped everything to repel the invader four years ago, and not a wheel or mill has run since. Wheat, oats and gardens are still made and them by women, old men and children for there are no young men in this country, they are all in the war. The women are certainly brave, for I have seen lots of girls twelve or fourteen years old do work I would be afraid to tackle.
Some time ago several of us boys were away from camp on a pass and we came to a magnificient farm house. They had a large brick (for everything is brick and stone) house with a multitude of stables, stalls and pens, all under the same roof, as is the custom here. But it was up-to-date in every way, although some were dilapidated from four years of disuse. They have cows, chickens, jack rabbits and pigs---all of the finest breeds. I never saw such find looking animals. In another building was a barn filled with oats, wheat and hay in one end in the other end was the thrashing machine run by water power. The stream by the place was as pretty stream as I ever saw in my life, wish I had a picture of it and was allowed to send it to you. It was the most immense and complete country home I ever saw. I suppose the owner is very wealthy. All the fences, bridges over the stream, hay racks, etc., were steel, and the house was richly furnished. The buildings alone would cover half an acre and must have cost a fortune. But now to the sad part. Two women, two children and an old man are running the place. I watched oe girl about twelve years old milk twelve or thirteen cows, carry in wood and other chors which would have been a hard job for a grown man. They all wear wooden shoes and the shoddiest clothes. So you can see the French women are doing their bit and not fussing or growling about it.
The people here hardly exist, but I believe they are fairing better now than they were for a while. They have very little meat to eat, and very few potatoes, but as I have said, the people in this section don’t feel the effects of the war as the ones further north. But they are very cheerful and say “viva la France” and d---the Boche. They are a very wonderful people in a way but some are very hard to get acquainted with.
I suppose you would like to know how I am. Well, I am feeling fine and enjoying life although I am home sick for the states, but can’t complain for out side of my duty for the country, I am having a very interesting time, and if I ever return will have lots to tell you. I am keeping my eyes and ears open so I can see and hear all I can.
And now I will bid you au revoir for it is nearly time for me to go to work. Have just finished supper and a very nice meal it was. Write me real soon. Lots of love to you and the folks. Best regards to all my friends.
Lovingly you son,
Foreman (Foreman Kelley)
NOTES:
TRANSCRIBED BY MIKE POLSTON