TRANSCRIBED FROM THE DREW COUNTY ADVANCE JANUARY 14, 1919 P. 1
Nov. 15, 1918
Dear Mother:
I received your wonderful little card and letter several days ago. You can't imagine how delightfully surprised and pleased I am. My mail has been delayed, perhaps on this side, the past six weeks; so you should easily imagine how good I felt.
Mother, I shall try to picture for you the morning and evening of the 11th of November and the following days, up to date (15th) as I saw and felt them.
On the 11th of November we got up with a rush and a grim determination to put a forceful fire over the way. At 2 A. M. we opened with a few shots of T. N. T. (high explosive,) followed immediately by gas shells, as a befitting climax. In the meantime the entire "Western Front" was going through the most terrible bombardment the world has ever known. The roar was deafening, though joyful. Flames, signal shells and every weapon of death known to modern warfare were turned loose. Up until 11 o'clock, there was a living hell on earth and then a dead silence followed and the terrible conflict passed into history. Rejoicing began immediately and happiness and joy ruled supreme in every human heart. The heart rending peals of the long hidden cathedral bells were heard on all sides. The few remaining boys came nearer to us, and a miserable old crow bathed in the dust over by the Meuse. Our hats were thrown high in the air with a force equal to any victor. At night we rounded up every flare possible and the boys all along the front did likewise. The night was as light as day. A grander sight was never seen.
Nearly five years have gone by and during those bloody days no human dared to strike even a match in the open. To do so courted instant death. Tonight there were thousands of camp fires on the hill sides. We walked in peace and the terrible suspense of shot and shell passed by.
I was glad to see the victorious _____of the wonderful Frenchman, and my heart went out to him. I met five returning Poilus and we joined hands with a firm clasp and the six danced for liberty. I passed around the cigarettes and our friendship was sealed.
On the 12th M. A. R. Reeves and I toured the French extreme front line as it stood or rather moved at eleven o'clock the day before. There we found desolation in its full meaning. In most sectors I have found some trace of once village or single homes. Not so in Death Valley. The entire country for miles was pulverized beyond recognition. Nothing but weapons of destruction, and deep trenches and dug outs remained. We moved up the line.
The 13th found Reeves and I at Dun sur Meuse, along with several thousand other American soldiers This part of France is beautiful after four long years of German culture. The spirit of France still breathed and my eyes were relieved for the first time in many weeks. True the villages and hills and fields are terribly mutilated. Yet the magnificent Meuse river and canal flowing through a beautiful valley surrounded on east and west by grand hills, acted as an antidote to the Hun's destruction and beauty held sway.
I was quite surprised to meet an old Monticello boy at Dun. Reeves and I were walking through a little village looking at the sights. To my joy I remarked, there is a fellow from home.
Reeves: "Why don't you halt him?"
"Hell! I have," was my reply. Lieut. Col. Hunter Leslie and I indulged in a lengthy chat, just about home folks and then about the Germans. The home paper had not arrived for some time and letters were slow, never-the-less, the Germans were licked. So we parted, Col. Leslie toward the Rhine and I to camp, in better spirit.
On the 14th I returned to Verdun. There I was made glad and sad, for the happy though unfortunate slaves whom Germany had captured or stolen were slowly returning to friends and home. I spent the entire day and part of the evening among these people. I saw French soldiers and civilians, mere boys and aged men, Italians, Belgians, Serbians, the grateful Russian prisoner, and British "Tommies" and Australians shorn in spirit, rags, skin and bones showed outwardly and the true heart of the countries glowed inwardly.
Toward evening their stomachs were full and home scenes burned in their grateful bodies, songs filled the air.
As I listen to their uneven voices and terrible cough, I see the feverish flush that has stamped many of them already for death. I look back home to happiness and then feel the bitter sting of no home. And, mother darling, I pray, Oh, God, give us strength to help these people, help them to help others, and our God may we even progress toward your goal. With your guidance we shall right the wrong done by enemy and ally. We shall make this a worthy world, one that will stand.
Mother, I am getting along fine. No sickness or worry and good prospects of sailing soon. I trust you and sister are in good health and fine spirits. So keep the old stove hot for future work.
Give my love to the girls and Aunt Annie, also my regards to the table.
I am with love to you and sister,
Your son,
Chas. H. Killian, S. F. I . C.
Address U. S. N., R. R. Batteries.
Care Postmaster, New York, N. Y.
NOTES: Charles Henry Killian was born on August 22, 1894 and died on May 7, 1954. He is buried in the Oakland Cemetery in Monticello, Arkansas. He enlisted on April 14, 1917 and was discharged on May 29, 1920.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
Nov. 15, 1918
Dear Mother:
I received your wonderful little card and letter several days ago. You can't imagine how delightfully surprised and pleased I am. My mail has been delayed, perhaps on this side, the past six weeks; so you should easily imagine how good I felt.
Mother, I shall try to picture for you the morning and evening of the 11th of November and the following days, up to date (15th) as I saw and felt them.
On the 11th of November we got up with a rush and a grim determination to put a forceful fire over the way. At 2 A. M. we opened with a few shots of T. N. T. (high explosive,) followed immediately by gas shells, as a befitting climax. In the meantime the entire "Western Front" was going through the most terrible bombardment the world has ever known. The roar was deafening, though joyful. Flames, signal shells and every weapon of death known to modern warfare were turned loose. Up until 11 o'clock, there was a living hell on earth and then a dead silence followed and the terrible conflict passed into history. Rejoicing began immediately and happiness and joy ruled supreme in every human heart. The heart rending peals of the long hidden cathedral bells were heard on all sides. The few remaining boys came nearer to us, and a miserable old crow bathed in the dust over by the Meuse. Our hats were thrown high in the air with a force equal to any victor. At night we rounded up every flare possible and the boys all along the front did likewise. The night was as light as day. A grander sight was never seen.
Nearly five years have gone by and during those bloody days no human dared to strike even a match in the open. To do so courted instant death. Tonight there were thousands of camp fires on the hill sides. We walked in peace and the terrible suspense of shot and shell passed by.
I was glad to see the victorious _____of the wonderful Frenchman, and my heart went out to him. I met five returning Poilus and we joined hands with a firm clasp and the six danced for liberty. I passed around the cigarettes and our friendship was sealed.
On the 12th M. A. R. Reeves and I toured the French extreme front line as it stood or rather moved at eleven o'clock the day before. There we found desolation in its full meaning. In most sectors I have found some trace of once village or single homes. Not so in Death Valley. The entire country for miles was pulverized beyond recognition. Nothing but weapons of destruction, and deep trenches and dug outs remained. We moved up the line.
The 13th found Reeves and I at Dun sur Meuse, along with several thousand other American soldiers This part of France is beautiful after four long years of German culture. The spirit of France still breathed and my eyes were relieved for the first time in many weeks. True the villages and hills and fields are terribly mutilated. Yet the magnificent Meuse river and canal flowing through a beautiful valley surrounded on east and west by grand hills, acted as an antidote to the Hun's destruction and beauty held sway.
I was quite surprised to meet an old Monticello boy at Dun. Reeves and I were walking through a little village looking at the sights. To my joy I remarked, there is a fellow from home.
Reeves: "Why don't you halt him?"
"Hell! I have," was my reply. Lieut. Col. Hunter Leslie and I indulged in a lengthy chat, just about home folks and then about the Germans. The home paper had not arrived for some time and letters were slow, never-the-less, the Germans were licked. So we parted, Col. Leslie toward the Rhine and I to camp, in better spirit.
On the 14th I returned to Verdun. There I was made glad and sad, for the happy though unfortunate slaves whom Germany had captured or stolen were slowly returning to friends and home. I spent the entire day and part of the evening among these people. I saw French soldiers and civilians, mere boys and aged men, Italians, Belgians, Serbians, the grateful Russian prisoner, and British "Tommies" and Australians shorn in spirit, rags, skin and bones showed outwardly and the true heart of the countries glowed inwardly.
Toward evening their stomachs were full and home scenes burned in their grateful bodies, songs filled the air.
As I listen to their uneven voices and terrible cough, I see the feverish flush that has stamped many of them already for death. I look back home to happiness and then feel the bitter sting of no home. And, mother darling, I pray, Oh, God, give us strength to help these people, help them to help others, and our God may we even progress toward your goal. With your guidance we shall right the wrong done by enemy and ally. We shall make this a worthy world, one that will stand.
Mother, I am getting along fine. No sickness or worry and good prospects of sailing soon. I trust you and sister are in good health and fine spirits. So keep the old stove hot for future work.
Give my love to the girls and Aunt Annie, also my regards to the table.
I am with love to you and sister,
Your son,
Chas. H. Killian, S. F. I . C.
Address U. S. N., R. R. Batteries.
Care Postmaster, New York, N. Y.
NOTES: Charles Henry Killian was born on August 22, 1894 and died on May 7, 1954. He is buried in the Oakland Cemetery in Monticello, Arkansas. He enlisted on April 14, 1917 and was discharged on May 29, 1920.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD