TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ARKANSAS DEMOCRAT OCTOBER 11, 1918 P. 4
Dear Father:
Will try and answer your letter of a few days ago. Was glad to hear from you again, but very sorry the authorities had refused to let you send the parcel as I am badly in need of the same. Well, father, you ask me where I am. I cannot tell you that, the letter would be stopped, but will say that we have given Fritz another kick to help him on his way back to his dear fatherland from whence his mad master sent him four years ago on his mission of murder. And am glad that the completeness of his dream has not only been shattered, but that he will go back to his cage a torn battered animal, to be despised by all nations who honor God and justice. I sincerely think that the zenith of his power has been reached and is now on the decline, and the longer he prolongs his delusive struggle the deeper in the mire he will become entangled.
There are vivid signs of his apparent weakness to be seen lately. Among them is the small arms ammunition that at the beginning of the war was made of copper and brass, and which is now made of (or at least the greater percentage) iron dipped in copper to prevent rust. Also many articles of equipment which at the beginning were made of the best brass and aluminum are now made of iron, tin and enamel ware. I am in a district where there has been an advance recently, and there were many letters and papers (mostly letters) have been picked up by men of my regiment. Many of these bitterly wail of the absence of food and men at home in Hunland.
Of course, father, I am very optimistic of the future, but I am not one of those who believe every time we make an advance it is going to end the war at once. I think we have another winter in the trenches before us, as well as all of the cruel sacrifices of war, but I do believe, for the first time since the war started, we have supremacy in resources, and I think the morale of the troops on our side is far from weak, while the morale of the Huns is visibly bad. Where I am sitting the carnage of war is visible all around me. Thanks to the god of justice there are about six or eight German dead to one of ours.
Of all the lonely places I have been in France has them all beaten. I don’t believe there is a civilian within 15 or 20 miles of here, especially no mademoiselles. Of course I have to admit I am a chip off the old block, but it is very nice to get away from the sound of the guns to where we can at least gaze upon dimples and curls. Well, you should see me chew up the language so they can understand. I am just as liable to call for a whole housekeeping outfit before I can make them understand that I only want a towel and soap.
You said I had never told you how badly I was wounded. I thought I told you that my wounds were not very bad, at least they were not bad enough but that I am back and carrying on again. All that is the matter with me is that my lungs are wear from an old dose of gas and my legs are bad from varicose veins and I can’t stand to exert myself or can’t stand the walking very well.
Well, it is getting dark and can’t light any lights so I will close for this time, hoping to hear from you soon. Give my love to the family and tell them that when this great war is over I anticipate being back with them. As ever, your son.
NOTES: This partial letter was written by Jack Godwin to his father A. M. Godwin. He had traveled to Canada to enlist in the military before the US entered the war and was serving in the Canadian forces. Godwin was from Crossett, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
Dear Father:
Will try and answer your letter of a few days ago. Was glad to hear from you again, but very sorry the authorities had refused to let you send the parcel as I am badly in need of the same. Well, father, you ask me where I am. I cannot tell you that, the letter would be stopped, but will say that we have given Fritz another kick to help him on his way back to his dear fatherland from whence his mad master sent him four years ago on his mission of murder. And am glad that the completeness of his dream has not only been shattered, but that he will go back to his cage a torn battered animal, to be despised by all nations who honor God and justice. I sincerely think that the zenith of his power has been reached and is now on the decline, and the longer he prolongs his delusive struggle the deeper in the mire he will become entangled.
There are vivid signs of his apparent weakness to be seen lately. Among them is the small arms ammunition that at the beginning of the war was made of copper and brass, and which is now made of (or at least the greater percentage) iron dipped in copper to prevent rust. Also many articles of equipment which at the beginning were made of the best brass and aluminum are now made of iron, tin and enamel ware. I am in a district where there has been an advance recently, and there were many letters and papers (mostly letters) have been picked up by men of my regiment. Many of these bitterly wail of the absence of food and men at home in Hunland.
Of course, father, I am very optimistic of the future, but I am not one of those who believe every time we make an advance it is going to end the war at once. I think we have another winter in the trenches before us, as well as all of the cruel sacrifices of war, but I do believe, for the first time since the war started, we have supremacy in resources, and I think the morale of the troops on our side is far from weak, while the morale of the Huns is visibly bad. Where I am sitting the carnage of war is visible all around me. Thanks to the god of justice there are about six or eight German dead to one of ours.
Of all the lonely places I have been in France has them all beaten. I don’t believe there is a civilian within 15 or 20 miles of here, especially no mademoiselles. Of course I have to admit I am a chip off the old block, but it is very nice to get away from the sound of the guns to where we can at least gaze upon dimples and curls. Well, you should see me chew up the language so they can understand. I am just as liable to call for a whole housekeeping outfit before I can make them understand that I only want a towel and soap.
You said I had never told you how badly I was wounded. I thought I told you that my wounds were not very bad, at least they were not bad enough but that I am back and carrying on again. All that is the matter with me is that my lungs are wear from an old dose of gas and my legs are bad from varicose veins and I can’t stand to exert myself or can’t stand the walking very well.
Well, it is getting dark and can’t light any lights so I will close for this time, hoping to hear from you soon. Give my love to the family and tell them that when this great war is over I anticipate being back with them. As ever, your son.
NOTES: This partial letter was written by Jack Godwin to his father A. M. Godwin. He had traveled to Canada to enlist in the military before the US entered the war and was serving in the Canadian forces. Godwin was from Crossett, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT