TRANSCRIBED FROM THE SOLIPHONE NOVEMBER 21, 1918 P. 10
We have been dragging the old typewriter around with us, and I’m putting it to the good use of writing a letter home. The atmosphere has been so prolific with peace rumors recently that I hardly know how to write a letter. Of course I want to put a lot of encouragement in it and say just how soon I hope peace will really come, but we who have been fortunate enough to be over here for a bit of the fighting know the zest of the German shells lighting here abouts and realize the big lot to be yet accomplished before we can start for home with the feeling of security we had before the Kaiser started in to bring to realization his mad dreams. The Germans are a queer people. They fought like the low lived brutes they are, taking advantage of the weak and committing atrocities that will always bring shame to their name and now that we have them well on the road to defeat they are quibbling around with their false efforts of diplomacy and crying like the whipped cowards they are. Just one look at war ridden France and any man feels the call of justice urging him on to help crush Germany. I cannot testify as to the earnestness of Germany’s new plea. I know they realize their force of arms has failed and are asking for an armistice. But whether the evacuation for which they claim to be willing is an evidence of their change of heart, or results directly from the severe reverse their almighty army has and is suffering is a question the answer to which lies in a contented corner of the American soldier’s heart. We have seen the heart of France in her suffering. We have seen her battle front with the ruined fields and shattered homes. We know of the Belgium that is no more. And we know the giving up of Germany’s ill gotten gains and the money indemnities she will be forced to pay are but paltry shams of reparation for the suffering she has caused. We know the heartlessness of Germany’s greed and lust. We are wary of her. We need the backing of the home folks more right now than ever before. We are in the war to win, and to win in the clean cut fashion that characterizes Americans. But even when it is finished and we have administered the last bitter dose that America prescribes, we will think of Germany as the brute and coward she is and as wholly unworthy the steel of true soldiers.
I haven’t heard from home recently, and a letter would do a lot of good right now. One will probably be rolling in soon. I hope that by the time this reaches you the cracking dream of the Kaiser will be wholly smashed.
NOTES: Frank Leggitt was writing to his parents Mr. and Mrs. I. C. Leggitt. Leggitt departed New York for France on June 18, 1918 onboard the Justicia. He was serving in an Ord. Detachment of the 342th FA, 89th Division. He returned from Brest, France on May 18, 1919 onboard the Prinz Friedrich Wilhelm. He arrived in Hoboken, NJ on May 27, 1919. He was listed as a Sergt. Serving in the Ord. Detachment of the 324th FA. (THE NUMBERS MAY HAVE BEEN TRANSPOSED IN THIS DOCUMENT FROM 342)
TRANSCRIBED BY DAVID COLLINS
We have been dragging the old typewriter around with us, and I’m putting it to the good use of writing a letter home. The atmosphere has been so prolific with peace rumors recently that I hardly know how to write a letter. Of course I want to put a lot of encouragement in it and say just how soon I hope peace will really come, but we who have been fortunate enough to be over here for a bit of the fighting know the zest of the German shells lighting here abouts and realize the big lot to be yet accomplished before we can start for home with the feeling of security we had before the Kaiser started in to bring to realization his mad dreams. The Germans are a queer people. They fought like the low lived brutes they are, taking advantage of the weak and committing atrocities that will always bring shame to their name and now that we have them well on the road to defeat they are quibbling around with their false efforts of diplomacy and crying like the whipped cowards they are. Just one look at war ridden France and any man feels the call of justice urging him on to help crush Germany. I cannot testify as to the earnestness of Germany’s new plea. I know they realize their force of arms has failed and are asking for an armistice. But whether the evacuation for which they claim to be willing is an evidence of their change of heart, or results directly from the severe reverse their almighty army has and is suffering is a question the answer to which lies in a contented corner of the American soldier’s heart. We have seen the heart of France in her suffering. We have seen her battle front with the ruined fields and shattered homes. We know of the Belgium that is no more. And we know the giving up of Germany’s ill gotten gains and the money indemnities she will be forced to pay are but paltry shams of reparation for the suffering she has caused. We know the heartlessness of Germany’s greed and lust. We are wary of her. We need the backing of the home folks more right now than ever before. We are in the war to win, and to win in the clean cut fashion that characterizes Americans. But even when it is finished and we have administered the last bitter dose that America prescribes, we will think of Germany as the brute and coward she is and as wholly unworthy the steel of true soldiers.
I haven’t heard from home recently, and a letter would do a lot of good right now. One will probably be rolling in soon. I hope that by the time this reaches you the cracking dream of the Kaiser will be wholly smashed.
NOTES: Frank Leggitt was writing to his parents Mr. and Mrs. I. C. Leggitt. Leggitt departed New York for France on June 18, 1918 onboard the Justicia. He was serving in an Ord. Detachment of the 342th FA, 89th Division. He returned from Brest, France on May 18, 1919 onboard the Prinz Friedrich Wilhelm. He arrived in Hoboken, NJ on May 27, 1919. He was listed as a Sergt. Serving in the Ord. Detachment of the 324th FA. (THE NUMBERS MAY HAVE BEEN TRANSPOSED IN THIS DOCUMENT FROM 342)
TRANSCRIBED BY DAVID COLLINS