TRANSCRIBED FROM THE GREEN FOREST TRIBUNE MAY 31, 1918 P. 2
Somewhere Over There.
Tuesday, April 30, 1918.
Dear Grandpa
Your letter of Jan. 30 was more than welcome. We entered active service March 1 and your letter arrived just after we came out of the trenches for a rest. We have been doing some of the things you read about in the papers. I remember how we used to wait for the papers in the drug store and the great arguments pro and con. It’s all stern reality over here and we find Fritz a wise, and you might say, almost an uncanny foe. But take this as I say it: We gave him far more than he gave us. Our unit had the honor of taking part in the biggest show ever pulled off in this war. I can say this much, for we are now back at our base. We were not engaged in the little raid with other Americans. When you read of it you could never image a little American unit was enpaged in doing its bit. I served in Cuba during the Spanish-American war, but all of that was no equal to the first fifteen seconds the first morning we entered the trenches. This is certainly some game we are playing over here. No pen can do justice to even trivial engagements in this war. It is indeed a man’s task and I am glad America has great and wonderful resources.
Fritz had just finished a raid the first morning we entered the trenches and we were shelled good and proper. It was then I got my first sight of dead and wounded—not our unit, for God has been with us in every move we have made. We have been in a straffe of whiz bangs— barring Fritz’s minnenverfer — and have thousands of gas shells rain about us for four solid hours, and not a hit. Of course we swallowed our share, but we have as good a gas mask as man can make, and that means success in the long run. For my part, I spent five days in the hospital and came out all O. K. I am eating heartily; really putting on a little flesh and so far have never missed a day’s work since joining, for it happened my unit lay idle the five days I was away. Our work is at night and your wildest imagination couldn’t picture some of the things that take place in muddy trenches. Our boys are all game, though, and it’s a pleasure to work with them. Both officers and men have delivered the goods.
My section took part in a big daylight raid: Three waves of infantry and h—l let loose all along the line. Through the periscope I could see what our work was doing, and all the officer pronounced it a perfect show—that is what we call one of our stunts. No Man’s land always looks black and dreary. I have been on top and the jog, jog of a machine gun—gee! I double quicker to the bottom of the trench much faster than I went to the top. You read of great battles every day, but to the boys taking part, each doing his bit in his allotted place, it does not seem great at all. I have done nothing great or unusual, grandpa, but I have done my duty with all my heart and soul. Of course no one likes it deep down in his heart, but the sooner a bad job is finished the better. Thank God, grandpa, you have the true light and can realize what the destruction of militarism means to the furtherance of God’s divine plan of the ages. I can see the nations of the earth slowly, but surely being drawn together in the common bond of true brotherhood. Already the Jews have formed their republic to be founded in the Holy Land. Startling and wonderful changes are taking place every day. Things will be dark indeed until the appointed time, when men have learned they are each his brother’s keeper and not his master. Whether we are believer or unbeliever, we are doing our bit over here for that end even if the great majority are doing it unknowingly. I was scheduled to address the big Jewish congress which was to be held in New York last November, but as it was postponed until after the war, I will have to wait until then for that honor. I am the same John as when you saw me last, and I pray always that my faith and trust be supreme above all else. I have dreaded many times, with death on all sides, but never yet has fear entered my heart. What a comfort it is to have God to lean upon. When I come back I shall continue my work right where I left off. I never, never fail to pray for you each night as I lay me down to sleep and thank God for the true light you gave me. Mention me to Ralph at the training camp when you write and be sure and say hello to Doc and other first degree loafers at the drug store. I think of them often. Tell Doc I can beat him pitching at a crack any day in the week. Also be sure and tell Mrs. Alfrey you heard from me. Good night and may God be with you till we meet again.
Yours,
John.
Address, Serg. John Kaiser, Co. B, 30th Eng., A. E. F.
P. S. — By the time this reaches you it will be old news. Fritz’s great offensive is the beginning of the end, for he is battering against a wall that may bend in places, but never breaks. Confidence is supreme over here and all we need is more Americans—soldiers and weapons to fight with. It is a most bloody and terrible conflict, but the object to be attained is worth far more than the price. God in his own good time will bring peace on earth, good will to man.
John.
NOTES: John Kaiser is writing to his friend J. J. Shaffner. He was born on August 2, 1881 and died on November 28, 1951. He is buried in the Fayetteville National Cemetery in Fayetteville, Arkansas. His military headstone identifies him as an Indiana M. Sgt. serving in WWI.
TRANSCRIBED BY LINDA MATTHEWS
Somewhere Over There.
Tuesday, April 30, 1918.
Dear Grandpa
Your letter of Jan. 30 was more than welcome. We entered active service March 1 and your letter arrived just after we came out of the trenches for a rest. We have been doing some of the things you read about in the papers. I remember how we used to wait for the papers in the drug store and the great arguments pro and con. It’s all stern reality over here and we find Fritz a wise, and you might say, almost an uncanny foe. But take this as I say it: We gave him far more than he gave us. Our unit had the honor of taking part in the biggest show ever pulled off in this war. I can say this much, for we are now back at our base. We were not engaged in the little raid with other Americans. When you read of it you could never image a little American unit was enpaged in doing its bit. I served in Cuba during the Spanish-American war, but all of that was no equal to the first fifteen seconds the first morning we entered the trenches. This is certainly some game we are playing over here. No pen can do justice to even trivial engagements in this war. It is indeed a man’s task and I am glad America has great and wonderful resources.
Fritz had just finished a raid the first morning we entered the trenches and we were shelled good and proper. It was then I got my first sight of dead and wounded—not our unit, for God has been with us in every move we have made. We have been in a straffe of whiz bangs— barring Fritz’s minnenverfer — and have thousands of gas shells rain about us for four solid hours, and not a hit. Of course we swallowed our share, but we have as good a gas mask as man can make, and that means success in the long run. For my part, I spent five days in the hospital and came out all O. K. I am eating heartily; really putting on a little flesh and so far have never missed a day’s work since joining, for it happened my unit lay idle the five days I was away. Our work is at night and your wildest imagination couldn’t picture some of the things that take place in muddy trenches. Our boys are all game, though, and it’s a pleasure to work with them. Both officers and men have delivered the goods.
My section took part in a big daylight raid: Three waves of infantry and h—l let loose all along the line. Through the periscope I could see what our work was doing, and all the officer pronounced it a perfect show—that is what we call one of our stunts. No Man’s land always looks black and dreary. I have been on top and the jog, jog of a machine gun—gee! I double quicker to the bottom of the trench much faster than I went to the top. You read of great battles every day, but to the boys taking part, each doing his bit in his allotted place, it does not seem great at all. I have done nothing great or unusual, grandpa, but I have done my duty with all my heart and soul. Of course no one likes it deep down in his heart, but the sooner a bad job is finished the better. Thank God, grandpa, you have the true light and can realize what the destruction of militarism means to the furtherance of God’s divine plan of the ages. I can see the nations of the earth slowly, but surely being drawn together in the common bond of true brotherhood. Already the Jews have formed their republic to be founded in the Holy Land. Startling and wonderful changes are taking place every day. Things will be dark indeed until the appointed time, when men have learned they are each his brother’s keeper and not his master. Whether we are believer or unbeliever, we are doing our bit over here for that end even if the great majority are doing it unknowingly. I was scheduled to address the big Jewish congress which was to be held in New York last November, but as it was postponed until after the war, I will have to wait until then for that honor. I am the same John as when you saw me last, and I pray always that my faith and trust be supreme above all else. I have dreaded many times, with death on all sides, but never yet has fear entered my heart. What a comfort it is to have God to lean upon. When I come back I shall continue my work right where I left off. I never, never fail to pray for you each night as I lay me down to sleep and thank God for the true light you gave me. Mention me to Ralph at the training camp when you write and be sure and say hello to Doc and other first degree loafers at the drug store. I think of them often. Tell Doc I can beat him pitching at a crack any day in the week. Also be sure and tell Mrs. Alfrey you heard from me. Good night and may God be with you till we meet again.
Yours,
John.
Address, Serg. John Kaiser, Co. B, 30th Eng., A. E. F.
P. S. — By the time this reaches you it will be old news. Fritz’s great offensive is the beginning of the end, for he is battering against a wall that may bend in places, but never breaks. Confidence is supreme over here and all we need is more Americans—soldiers and weapons to fight with. It is a most bloody and terrible conflict, but the object to be attained is worth far more than the price. God in his own good time will bring peace on earth, good will to man.
John.
NOTES: John Kaiser is writing to his friend J. J. Shaffner. He was born on August 2, 1881 and died on November 28, 1951. He is buried in the Fayetteville National Cemetery in Fayetteville, Arkansas. His military headstone identifies him as an Indiana M. Sgt. serving in WWI.
TRANSCRIBED BY LINDA MATTHEWS