TRANSCRIBED FROM THE BAXTER BULLETIN JULY 12, 1918 P. 2
Enroute France to N.Y.
June 7, 1918
Dear Gene:
I suppose you were more or less concerned as to my safety when you read about the sinking of the Lincoln. I confess that I had the same sort of sensation for a while.
It is now one week to the minute since the first torpedo struck us, and I am still on the job, as you have doubtless heard before now.
The ship sunk just 30 minutes after she was struck but she was entirely abandoned. We lost 23 men and 3 officers, some of whom by the first explosions. We were in the water fifteen hours and were then picked up by destroyers, and taken back to port.
About an hour after the Lincoln went down the submarine came and tried to find some of the officers, preferably the captain. We had, however, anticipated them and had removed or covered all insignia so they found only one man, Lieut. Isaacs, the First Lieutenant of the ship. We thought for a while we were going to be shelled but they left with out doing that.
We were put aboard another transport and should reach port in a week and I hope to be able to go home to refit for I have nothing but what I was wearing at the time. I am anxious to know what sort of duty I will get next. I hope to go to sea again for I want to get back at the birds that robbed me of my happy home.
Give my best to my Ontario friends. I am none the worst for my adventure except I lost a lot of little personal things that can never be replaced.
Love to all the family,
FRITZ.
NOTES: Jean Fredrick “Fritz” Loba was writing to a friend in Ontario, California. He grew up in Mountain Home, Arkansas and had relatives there in 1918. He was born on September 10, 1894 in Evanston, Illinois and died on June 10, 1928 in San Diego, California. He was described as being tall and of medium build with blue eyes and brown hair. He served as the assistant paymaster on the U.S.S. Lincoln at the time the ship was sunk.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
Enroute France to N.Y.
June 7, 1918
Dear Gene:
I suppose you were more or less concerned as to my safety when you read about the sinking of the Lincoln. I confess that I had the same sort of sensation for a while.
It is now one week to the minute since the first torpedo struck us, and I am still on the job, as you have doubtless heard before now.
The ship sunk just 30 minutes after she was struck but she was entirely abandoned. We lost 23 men and 3 officers, some of whom by the first explosions. We were in the water fifteen hours and were then picked up by destroyers, and taken back to port.
About an hour after the Lincoln went down the submarine came and tried to find some of the officers, preferably the captain. We had, however, anticipated them and had removed or covered all insignia so they found only one man, Lieut. Isaacs, the First Lieutenant of the ship. We thought for a while we were going to be shelled but they left with out doing that.
We were put aboard another transport and should reach port in a week and I hope to be able to go home to refit for I have nothing but what I was wearing at the time. I am anxious to know what sort of duty I will get next. I hope to go to sea again for I want to get back at the birds that robbed me of my happy home.
Give my best to my Ontario friends. I am none the worst for my adventure except I lost a lot of little personal things that can never be replaced.
Love to all the family,
FRITZ.
NOTES: Jean Fredrick “Fritz” Loba was writing to a friend in Ontario, California. He grew up in Mountain Home, Arkansas and had relatives there in 1918. He was born on September 10, 1894 in Evanston, Illinois and died on June 10, 1928 in San Diego, California. He was described as being tall and of medium build with blue eyes and brown hair. He served as the assistant paymaster on the U.S.S. Lincoln at the time the ship was sunk.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT