TRANSCRIBED FROM THE NEWPORT DAILY INDEPENDENT FEBRUARY 12, 1919 P. 1
Headquarters 312 Am. Train. A.E. France, A.P.O. 705
Mr. and Mrs. J. A. Garrison.
Dear Brother and Sister:
How are you all? Fine I hope. I am well, but I'm lonesome over here. I would like to see you all. It is still raining this morning; this is a very wet country. Well, sis, I think I will get to start home soon. I suppose it is cold weather over there. It is just cold enough to keep it from raining hard here--just drizzles along all the time. Well I don't know much to write. I have written Edgar two letters, but haven't heard from him. I hope your little home is happy. I tell you all, here will be the happiest boy you ever saw when he can get back home and can be his own boss. Guess Jack is fixing for another crop. My! my! I wish I was there to make a crop, but suppose I will have to work at public works one year and that is something I do not like to do. Well, sis, I haven't heard from anyone for about six weeks. I sure do want to hear from you all and my little wife. I sure would like to see her. Well, I'm living in town ow and "Boo-coo mared mazell' here. In French that means lots of young girls.) Guess Ed can tell you lots about them too. I can't parli vous Froma" much. That means I can't speak French much.
Well, it is dinner time and I know what we will have without going to see. It's tomatoes, carrots, potatoes, beef altogether. We call it stew and then a little thickened gravy over that. If you could see the food you'd call it slop, but the coffee is strong enough to cover over with iron wedges. Sugar goes by and cream starts but never gets there, but it tastes pretty good. I am getting fat as I weigh 158 pounds. Well, I have a very bad cold at present and my nose is more company than all the French girls. You should have seen me when I let my "muscache" grow for two weeks. I was a frieght, so I cut them off. We shave every day. The French look like those little poodle dogs. We call them frogs, because they live in holes surrounded by wine.
Here's a few words from France to the boys and girls o'er the sea, Which I'd like to see:
Cheer boys, cheer! no more idle sorrow,
Courage! True hearts shall bear us on our way;
Hope points before to show the bright tomorrow,
Let us forget the darkness of the day.
To the west, to the west, to the land of the free
Where mighty Arkansaw rolls down to the sea,
Where a man is a man if he's willing to toil,
And the humblest may gather the fruits of the soil.
Well, I will close and write more next time, so answer real soon.
Your brother,
Clarence Garrison.
NOTES: Clarence Julian Garrison was writing to his brother Julian Alson Garrison and his wife Vernia of Tuckerman, Arkansas. At the time of his service his wife and family lived in Texarkana, Arkansas. He was born at Kenyon, Arkansas on July 19, 1895 and died in Dallas, Texas on February 25, 1964. He is buried in the Cedar Grove Cemetery in Texarkana. His military headstone identifies him as a Private First Class serving in the US Army. He departed Bordeaux, France on February 19, 1919 onboard the Luna. He was serving as a Private in Camp Pike Det. 312 Ammunition Train.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
Headquarters 312 Am. Train. A.E. France, A.P.O. 705
Mr. and Mrs. J. A. Garrison.
Dear Brother and Sister:
How are you all? Fine I hope. I am well, but I'm lonesome over here. I would like to see you all. It is still raining this morning; this is a very wet country. Well, sis, I think I will get to start home soon. I suppose it is cold weather over there. It is just cold enough to keep it from raining hard here--just drizzles along all the time. Well I don't know much to write. I have written Edgar two letters, but haven't heard from him. I hope your little home is happy. I tell you all, here will be the happiest boy you ever saw when he can get back home and can be his own boss. Guess Jack is fixing for another crop. My! my! I wish I was there to make a crop, but suppose I will have to work at public works one year and that is something I do not like to do. Well, sis, I haven't heard from anyone for about six weeks. I sure do want to hear from you all and my little wife. I sure would like to see her. Well, I'm living in town ow and "Boo-coo mared mazell' here. In French that means lots of young girls.) Guess Ed can tell you lots about them too. I can't parli vous Froma" much. That means I can't speak French much.
Well, it is dinner time and I know what we will have without going to see. It's tomatoes, carrots, potatoes, beef altogether. We call it stew and then a little thickened gravy over that. If you could see the food you'd call it slop, but the coffee is strong enough to cover over with iron wedges. Sugar goes by and cream starts but never gets there, but it tastes pretty good. I am getting fat as I weigh 158 pounds. Well, I have a very bad cold at present and my nose is more company than all the French girls. You should have seen me when I let my "muscache" grow for two weeks. I was a frieght, so I cut them off. We shave every day. The French look like those little poodle dogs. We call them frogs, because they live in holes surrounded by wine.
Here's a few words from France to the boys and girls o'er the sea, Which I'd like to see:
Cheer boys, cheer! no more idle sorrow,
Courage! True hearts shall bear us on our way;
Hope points before to show the bright tomorrow,
Let us forget the darkness of the day.
To the west, to the west, to the land of the free
Where mighty Arkansaw rolls down to the sea,
Where a man is a man if he's willing to toil,
And the humblest may gather the fruits of the soil.
Well, I will close and write more next time, so answer real soon.
Your brother,
Clarence Garrison.
NOTES: Clarence Julian Garrison was writing to his brother Julian Alson Garrison and his wife Vernia of Tuckerman, Arkansas. At the time of his service his wife and family lived in Texarkana, Arkansas. He was born at Kenyon, Arkansas on July 19, 1895 and died in Dallas, Texas on February 25, 1964. He is buried in the Cedar Grove Cemetery in Texarkana. His military headstone identifies him as a Private First Class serving in the US Army. He departed Bordeaux, France on February 19, 1919 onboard the Luna. He was serving as a Private in Camp Pike Det. 312 Ammunition Train.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD