TRANSCRIBED FROM THE DEQUEEEN BEE AUGUST 30, 1918 P. 2
In France. July 29, 1918.
Dear Sonny:
Have a little spare time today so I’ll write you a letter. Enjoyed your last of June 24 very much. How are you enjoying your vacation? Having lots of fun? Guess you and dad are havink quite a time hunting and fishing on the farm. Have you done any work on it yet? Better get it in shape for I am coming home some of these days and will check you both up to see what you have done.
Well, do you want to hear about the war? Remember when you used to climb up on my lap and beg for a story—a war story? I remember it, old Sonny, and would give the world if you could do it now. I’ll write you a little about it. This will be a true story. We have been at the front holding a sector of our own and actually “facing Fritz” at last. We are located high up in the mountains, among the clouds, in the prettiest country imaginable. There isn’t much doing here on account of the extremely rough country. Occasionally the Germans shell some of our roads but don’t do much damage, except to scare some of the mules. In the mountains the noise echoes and sounds something fierce. At certain times during the day “Fritz” will send over a few shells and we will send him back two for one every time. Then some of his machine guns will sputter a little until our gets his range, then all will die down. I came up a few days in advance of our regiment to get familiar with the working of the thing and got here in time to see what they call a “show” a raid. I’ll tell you about it. Early one morning I got up before daylight and stumbled down a rough mountain path to a point on the mountain overlooking the “arena.” It was just beginning to get light and mountains were darkly outlined against the rosy sky. A few sleepy birds were twittering in the trees nearby and the only evidence of war was an occasional grenade explosion or rifle shot off to the left. Just at 4:02 a.m. there came a series of vicious whirs overhead and around a little hill in the valley an awful racket broke lose. Our guns were putting down a “box” barrage. That is, they boxed in a certain sector of trenches with a ring of bursting shells and machine gun bullets. The noise was awful, the air trembled and the ground fairly rocked. Smoke and dust soon hid everything. As I looked down on it I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit sorry for poor old “Fritz” as he huddled down in his trenches shooting up an occasional rocket as a signal for help from his other forces, which, of course, couldn’t get to him on account of our barrage. After they had peppered him for awhile—about one-half hour, I guess—we heard a cheer and knew that our boys were going “over the top” though we couldn’t see anyone for the smoke. Then came the tense time. Down came the German barrage and the machine guns began to rattle and we couldn’t tell whether or not our fellows were getting through. But finally our artillery let up some and we knew they had got into the German trenches. We waited for awhile, then hurried back around the mountain to a safe place before the German artillery lifted their fire and began to retaliate. After a while I was standing out in front of my dug out and saw a procession coming around the bend in the road. It came nearer and here was Hans, Fritz and Heiny and a few other Germans marching up the road under guard of some American soldiers. My! But those Americans were proud. They came up to where we officers were standing and the sergeant in charge gave the command “Halt, ‘bout face” and all of them, Germans included, executed the movement just fine. The Germans were good soldiers and could click their heels as well as our fellows. We talked to them and they were not a bit sorry to be prisoners of the Americans, especially when they saw the “eats”. They were pretty fair looking fellows, only their clothes were ragged and worn. So that ended the raid. Here, where we are now, it is practically safe. They can’t reach this particular spot with their fire on account of the steepness of the hill, and then, too, I have my office and also my bed in a concrete re-inforced dugout. My work keeps me inside most of the time, so tell “Gamma” and dad that they needn’t worry about me, besides I’ll most probably be starting to school for a five months’ course by the time you get this.
Well, how did you like that war story? That was a real one. But I’ll tell you, Sonny boy, if I were you I’d get this soldier business out of my head, for it’s not what it’s cracked up to be. You know how I used to imagine just like you that it would be fine to be in battle and charge the enemy and all of that. Maybe it was in the old days when they wore pretty uniforms and march up with flags flying out, but now it’s different. You wear a dirt colored uniform, lay in a hole a mile or so away, shoot at a clump of trees or a patch of dirt, and don’t see what you are shooting it, nor who it is that’s cutting the leaves off the tree above you or kicking up dirt in your face. There isn’t any music, except the whine of the bullets and that isn’t pretty. So if I were you, I’d be a farmer. It’s all right to soldier and to fight when duty calls you, but don’t imagine it’s any fun. It’s mostly hard marches in the mud, short rations and little sleep, and we’ll all be glad when it’s over, which won’t be long now, for the Germans know that they are beaten and when they give way they will do it all at once and everywhere.
Well, enough of the war. Now tell me about yourself, “Daddad and Gamma.” How are you all? Do you have many automobile rides? We have a car and when we are in the back area I get lots of nice rides to pretty places. I am feeling fine never better in my life. This mountain air is great and we all get plenty to eat here while we are not on the move. Taking all together the men are treated very well, usually get good food and clothes. Of course there are times when it can’t be helped if they do run short, but they all seem well satisfied. How is Esther? Does she write to you? I get lots of nice letters from here and she most always mentions you. Think you are a “fine feller” ha! You must write me a long letter. Tell “Gamma” to do so too, and you write for “Daddad” and send some pictures.
Will close now and get to work. When does your school begin? I have been trying to find some souvenirs to send you and dad, but they don’t seem to have much for boys and men. I sent “Gamma” and Esther some little trinkets. Was just wondering if they had to pay duty on them they weren’t worth it. Well, be good. Love to all. Tell Mr. Hunter hello and that I hope to get to Scotland sometime.
Papa
NOTES: This letter was written by Captain Walter M. Mann.
TRANSCRIBED BY DAVID COLLINS
In France. July 29, 1918.
Dear Sonny:
Have a little spare time today so I’ll write you a letter. Enjoyed your last of June 24 very much. How are you enjoying your vacation? Having lots of fun? Guess you and dad are havink quite a time hunting and fishing on the farm. Have you done any work on it yet? Better get it in shape for I am coming home some of these days and will check you both up to see what you have done.
Well, do you want to hear about the war? Remember when you used to climb up on my lap and beg for a story—a war story? I remember it, old Sonny, and would give the world if you could do it now. I’ll write you a little about it. This will be a true story. We have been at the front holding a sector of our own and actually “facing Fritz” at last. We are located high up in the mountains, among the clouds, in the prettiest country imaginable. There isn’t much doing here on account of the extremely rough country. Occasionally the Germans shell some of our roads but don’t do much damage, except to scare some of the mules. In the mountains the noise echoes and sounds something fierce. At certain times during the day “Fritz” will send over a few shells and we will send him back two for one every time. Then some of his machine guns will sputter a little until our gets his range, then all will die down. I came up a few days in advance of our regiment to get familiar with the working of the thing and got here in time to see what they call a “show” a raid. I’ll tell you about it. Early one morning I got up before daylight and stumbled down a rough mountain path to a point on the mountain overlooking the “arena.” It was just beginning to get light and mountains were darkly outlined against the rosy sky. A few sleepy birds were twittering in the trees nearby and the only evidence of war was an occasional grenade explosion or rifle shot off to the left. Just at 4:02 a.m. there came a series of vicious whirs overhead and around a little hill in the valley an awful racket broke lose. Our guns were putting down a “box” barrage. That is, they boxed in a certain sector of trenches with a ring of bursting shells and machine gun bullets. The noise was awful, the air trembled and the ground fairly rocked. Smoke and dust soon hid everything. As I looked down on it I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit sorry for poor old “Fritz” as he huddled down in his trenches shooting up an occasional rocket as a signal for help from his other forces, which, of course, couldn’t get to him on account of our barrage. After they had peppered him for awhile—about one-half hour, I guess—we heard a cheer and knew that our boys were going “over the top” though we couldn’t see anyone for the smoke. Then came the tense time. Down came the German barrage and the machine guns began to rattle and we couldn’t tell whether or not our fellows were getting through. But finally our artillery let up some and we knew they had got into the German trenches. We waited for awhile, then hurried back around the mountain to a safe place before the German artillery lifted their fire and began to retaliate. After a while I was standing out in front of my dug out and saw a procession coming around the bend in the road. It came nearer and here was Hans, Fritz and Heiny and a few other Germans marching up the road under guard of some American soldiers. My! But those Americans were proud. They came up to where we officers were standing and the sergeant in charge gave the command “Halt, ‘bout face” and all of them, Germans included, executed the movement just fine. The Germans were good soldiers and could click their heels as well as our fellows. We talked to them and they were not a bit sorry to be prisoners of the Americans, especially when they saw the “eats”. They were pretty fair looking fellows, only their clothes were ragged and worn. So that ended the raid. Here, where we are now, it is practically safe. They can’t reach this particular spot with their fire on account of the steepness of the hill, and then, too, I have my office and also my bed in a concrete re-inforced dugout. My work keeps me inside most of the time, so tell “Gamma” and dad that they needn’t worry about me, besides I’ll most probably be starting to school for a five months’ course by the time you get this.
Well, how did you like that war story? That was a real one. But I’ll tell you, Sonny boy, if I were you I’d get this soldier business out of my head, for it’s not what it’s cracked up to be. You know how I used to imagine just like you that it would be fine to be in battle and charge the enemy and all of that. Maybe it was in the old days when they wore pretty uniforms and march up with flags flying out, but now it’s different. You wear a dirt colored uniform, lay in a hole a mile or so away, shoot at a clump of trees or a patch of dirt, and don’t see what you are shooting it, nor who it is that’s cutting the leaves off the tree above you or kicking up dirt in your face. There isn’t any music, except the whine of the bullets and that isn’t pretty. So if I were you, I’d be a farmer. It’s all right to soldier and to fight when duty calls you, but don’t imagine it’s any fun. It’s mostly hard marches in the mud, short rations and little sleep, and we’ll all be glad when it’s over, which won’t be long now, for the Germans know that they are beaten and when they give way they will do it all at once and everywhere.
Well, enough of the war. Now tell me about yourself, “Daddad and Gamma.” How are you all? Do you have many automobile rides? We have a car and when we are in the back area I get lots of nice rides to pretty places. I am feeling fine never better in my life. This mountain air is great and we all get plenty to eat here while we are not on the move. Taking all together the men are treated very well, usually get good food and clothes. Of course there are times when it can’t be helped if they do run short, but they all seem well satisfied. How is Esther? Does she write to you? I get lots of nice letters from here and she most always mentions you. Think you are a “fine feller” ha! You must write me a long letter. Tell “Gamma” to do so too, and you write for “Daddad” and send some pictures.
Will close now and get to work. When does your school begin? I have been trying to find some souvenirs to send you and dad, but they don’t seem to have much for boys and men. I sent “Gamma” and Esther some little trinkets. Was just wondering if they had to pay duty on them they weren’t worth it. Well, be good. Love to all. Tell Mr. Hunter hello and that I hope to get to Scotland sometime.
Papa
NOTES: This letter was written by Captain Walter M. Mann.
TRANSCRIBED BY DAVID COLLINS