TRANSCRIBED FROM THE COURIER INDEX January 3, 1919 P. 1, 6
From JNO. E. Manning
France, Nov. 16, 1918
Mr. Geo R. Robuck,
Haynes, Ark.
Dear Uncle:
I have written you many short letters and I have been thinking to write you a long one, but I have been too busy until now.
This night is typical of the most beautiful moonlit night, though the weather is usually rainy here at this time of the year. Before I came to my quarters I noticed several familiar stars and I took note of the extra clear moon. I thought of home and I thought of how enthusiastically I used to be engaged in a fox chase on such a night in N.C. we have had some exceedingly pretty days, lately too, which give one a good idea of what the term “Sunny France” means. I admire the golden sun rise and think of how you people are till sleeping over in the states. A small problem will show several hours difference in time between France and the U.S. It is said that the fair weather comes partly as a result of the disappearing smoke clouds at the front. It seems to signify peace and quiet that now rests upon a weary world.
It is impossible to go into elaborate description of things over here. I can only mention a few things. This country is well developed. All the fertile land is cultivated. The principal crop is wheat. There are many forest-parks and there are numerous set trees along the well made French roads. I have not seen any great extent of woods. Large flocks of sheep may be seen feeding in the meadows, attended by a boy and his aid, a shepherd dog. One day our company was marching past a flock of sheep when they ran bleating, strangely, at us. The shepherd boy quickly turned them about, as if reminding them to not try to be soldiers. I saw a Frenchman dressing a hog. He singed instead of scalding it, which was new to me.
The French houses are all of white masonry, which shows prominently for a long way. I see among them great chateaux, churches and school buildings. I have had no opportunity to learn about the French educational system.
The French people, at first so strange and peculiar, are friendly and accommodating. I have seen scarcely any but bent old people and women and children. All the able men are in the service. I know those heroes left will appreciate an opportunity of coming home soon. The working class tap, tap their wooden sole shoes in moving slowly along the pike roads leading big time horses that pull heavy loads in stout carts. When the French plow in their fields they move very slowly. I never see a Frenchman in a hurry. They are a steady going people who take time to do things well. The soil of France has been made rich and it is kept so. More is said about what is done for the land than what it produces. There has been a considerable wine harvest in France this year, but I’m not interested in this line of French Industry.
The hardest experience of any A.E.F. member coming to France is to talk to the people, unless he is from a French locality in the U.S. Many stories are told of boys putting on shows to make themselves understood, such as “moo moo” and making signs like milking when they wanted to buy milk, or cackling and flopping if they wished to buy eggs. The French, who gestleulate much in speaking, go into as many antics to tell us things. They all like to talk to us, but they talk so fast that it is very difficult to understand.
One year’s study of French in school helped me a great deal. I can make myself understood and can read the French papers when I miss one in English. It is funny on meeting a young French lady. She does not ask where you are from. You are an American she knows, by the uniform. She nearly always asks if you are married or if you are engaged, and she will not believe you are not if you wear a ring, signets not excepted. I wear the signet Aunt Emma gave me, regardless of the consequences.
An American soldier married a French girl a few days ago and all the bells rang enthusiastically about it. Some fellows still think only of the American girls, others are very much interested in their new friends here. As for me I am, as usual, neutral on the question.
If this letter is to be read by you I expect I had better change the subject. As you know, I studied in two lines of military work, but from the camps until now I have spent most of my time with the military specialist. In the States I learned various theories about army communication. Since coming over I have occasion to reduce some theories to practice. Our men put in a communication system for one depot division. I may have told you that my work requires a great deal of careful study and its operation involves an immense amount of responsibility. This is strongly affirmed by men from the front. A man who operates army communication means may be called upon to give important information to the ranking officer in an army. He must know everything about the mechanism, operation and repair of the instruments he handles if he would insure the lines of his comrades by delivering a request message for a protective barrage fire to fall at some appointed second. The signal men are selected on account of special qualifications and theirs is a work rendering the best of service, and a work for which any signal man may be justly proud. I have never regretted that my opportunity to go to the officers’ training camp was sacrificed and that I came across instead of going to the camp as I was recommended. We have men in our work who deserve much higher rank than they now hold, who are content to serve as they are, because they fully realize the importance of their work. It is easy to see much difference in regard to rank over here from the way it is thought back in the states. Especially by people who are inexperienced and do not understand according to a real spirit of service first. About all the American E. F. is composed of all American soldiers but other bloods as well as pure Americans wear the khaki and uphold the cause for which the U. S. called them to defend. Plenty of hard work in the camps behind the lines, and Chateau Thierry and St. Mihiel have taught our boys some lessons of real value. But I had only six of my last ten days training before going to the front when armistice No. 4 was signed, and the big game was called off. I will attempt no camouflage hearsay in place of the livid natural descriptions you will in time get from men who have experienced and survived the almost guaranteed result of modern warfare. I wanted to see the front and I may be sent into the army of occupation. I had much curiosity about going over the top, but all men have had that experience say you get cured of all that in a single trip over to meet Fritz. According to some of the wounded men, Sherman’s idea was mild to what this war has been.
We certainly owe a great deal to the men whose lives have won this war and I can feel how much that their valorous deeds deserve to be remembered long after we survivors have all passed away.
There is much discussion among the men as to who is going home and who is going to remain here to assist in the reconstruction work. There is much needed. France shows effects of this, and even previous wars. I am patiently willing to do whatever service I am needed for. I want to see the wounded and such classes go home soon. As for me, if Uncle Sam needs me longer, I am ready to drink his army coffee yet awhile. That just reminds me–the coffee pot will have to be replaced by a much larger one when I get home or I will have to have one of my own, Coffee is never turned down by A.E.F. men, nor the chocolate served each night by the “Y.” It would take a whole book to tell what the Red Cross and Y are worth to us over here. Those who work in that line are certainly deserving of an immense amount of credit in the prosecution of the war.
Much enthusiastic joy must have been shown in the States when Germany capitulated. Some stunts were pulled off here, but the soldiers took it quietly. Lots of their emotional traits have been turned into discipline by systematic training.
I have not seen any of the boys from my home in N. C. though I know many of them are with the A.E.F. Only one boy, Jesse G Willis, who went with me to Camp Pike, is still with me. He is a mighty fine fellow like his brother Robert was. And he has been as true a comrade to me in service as was Robert a friend in the University of Arkansas. All the others who went to camp with me are scattered. I know not where.
I have been stationed for short times at several different places since I came over. I am at present located about two hundred miles from the French coast and about one hundred and twenty-five miles south south-west of Paris. Our drill work is not so intense as it has been. Many interesting games are played instead of so much drill. I have learned so many field games that I’ll never be bothered again in directing a school in lines of field or outdoor amusements. Some games are real food for thought as well as being good exercise. Work has in some respects been reduced to play and it seems to matter not how a soldier gets mental alertness, physical energy and activity, just so he gets them. The end sought and not the means of process of acquiring is important. At night there are indoor games, some of which I do not play. The billeting is interesting, but it is too long a story to write about.
I am getting along O.K., enjoying the cessation of hostilities. On the approach of another Thanksgiving we really have something great to express thanks for. God’s justice had to win and so the possibility of peace is near. I’m almost content here, but the prospect of returning home has stirred occasional longings to go. There are many to be sent back, however, and I may have to wait a long time, even if I’m not sent into Germany. I want everyone to write me. News from home is the very best and I like the best, in letters or packages.
I have some great experiences and I have learned so many good things which I hope to use to some good advantage or purpose when I return home I think every man has been benefited by service. The whole world has been stimulated industrially by the war work and a great neighborhood has been established upon liberty, equality, fraternity. I may have already said too, much and I’m not ordained to preach, Finis.
Your nephew,
John E Manning
NOTES: John Eber Manning was born on October 18, 1890 in Jamesville, NC and died on September 9, 1967 in Williamston, NC. He is buried in the Shadow Lawn Cemetery in Lawrenceville, GA. He was living in Haynes, Arkansas when he registered for the draft. He departed for Europe onboard the Huron from Newport News, VA on August 6, 1918. He was listed as a Pvt. in the Headquarters Company. He listed George Robuck as his next of kin.
TRANSCRIBED BY ISAAC WOLTER
From JNO. E. Manning
France, Nov. 16, 1918
Mr. Geo R. Robuck,
Haynes, Ark.
Dear Uncle:
I have written you many short letters and I have been thinking to write you a long one, but I have been too busy until now.
This night is typical of the most beautiful moonlit night, though the weather is usually rainy here at this time of the year. Before I came to my quarters I noticed several familiar stars and I took note of the extra clear moon. I thought of home and I thought of how enthusiastically I used to be engaged in a fox chase on such a night in N.C. we have had some exceedingly pretty days, lately too, which give one a good idea of what the term “Sunny France” means. I admire the golden sun rise and think of how you people are till sleeping over in the states. A small problem will show several hours difference in time between France and the U.S. It is said that the fair weather comes partly as a result of the disappearing smoke clouds at the front. It seems to signify peace and quiet that now rests upon a weary world.
It is impossible to go into elaborate description of things over here. I can only mention a few things. This country is well developed. All the fertile land is cultivated. The principal crop is wheat. There are many forest-parks and there are numerous set trees along the well made French roads. I have not seen any great extent of woods. Large flocks of sheep may be seen feeding in the meadows, attended by a boy and his aid, a shepherd dog. One day our company was marching past a flock of sheep when they ran bleating, strangely, at us. The shepherd boy quickly turned them about, as if reminding them to not try to be soldiers. I saw a Frenchman dressing a hog. He singed instead of scalding it, which was new to me.
The French houses are all of white masonry, which shows prominently for a long way. I see among them great chateaux, churches and school buildings. I have had no opportunity to learn about the French educational system.
The French people, at first so strange and peculiar, are friendly and accommodating. I have seen scarcely any but bent old people and women and children. All the able men are in the service. I know those heroes left will appreciate an opportunity of coming home soon. The working class tap, tap their wooden sole shoes in moving slowly along the pike roads leading big time horses that pull heavy loads in stout carts. When the French plow in their fields they move very slowly. I never see a Frenchman in a hurry. They are a steady going people who take time to do things well. The soil of France has been made rich and it is kept so. More is said about what is done for the land than what it produces. There has been a considerable wine harvest in France this year, but I’m not interested in this line of French Industry.
The hardest experience of any A.E.F. member coming to France is to talk to the people, unless he is from a French locality in the U.S. Many stories are told of boys putting on shows to make themselves understood, such as “moo moo” and making signs like milking when they wanted to buy milk, or cackling and flopping if they wished to buy eggs. The French, who gestleulate much in speaking, go into as many antics to tell us things. They all like to talk to us, but they talk so fast that it is very difficult to understand.
One year’s study of French in school helped me a great deal. I can make myself understood and can read the French papers when I miss one in English. It is funny on meeting a young French lady. She does not ask where you are from. You are an American she knows, by the uniform. She nearly always asks if you are married or if you are engaged, and she will not believe you are not if you wear a ring, signets not excepted. I wear the signet Aunt Emma gave me, regardless of the consequences.
An American soldier married a French girl a few days ago and all the bells rang enthusiastically about it. Some fellows still think only of the American girls, others are very much interested in their new friends here. As for me I am, as usual, neutral on the question.
If this letter is to be read by you I expect I had better change the subject. As you know, I studied in two lines of military work, but from the camps until now I have spent most of my time with the military specialist. In the States I learned various theories about army communication. Since coming over I have occasion to reduce some theories to practice. Our men put in a communication system for one depot division. I may have told you that my work requires a great deal of careful study and its operation involves an immense amount of responsibility. This is strongly affirmed by men from the front. A man who operates army communication means may be called upon to give important information to the ranking officer in an army. He must know everything about the mechanism, operation and repair of the instruments he handles if he would insure the lines of his comrades by delivering a request message for a protective barrage fire to fall at some appointed second. The signal men are selected on account of special qualifications and theirs is a work rendering the best of service, and a work for which any signal man may be justly proud. I have never regretted that my opportunity to go to the officers’ training camp was sacrificed and that I came across instead of going to the camp as I was recommended. We have men in our work who deserve much higher rank than they now hold, who are content to serve as they are, because they fully realize the importance of their work. It is easy to see much difference in regard to rank over here from the way it is thought back in the states. Especially by people who are inexperienced and do not understand according to a real spirit of service first. About all the American E. F. is composed of all American soldiers but other bloods as well as pure Americans wear the khaki and uphold the cause for which the U. S. called them to defend. Plenty of hard work in the camps behind the lines, and Chateau Thierry and St. Mihiel have taught our boys some lessons of real value. But I had only six of my last ten days training before going to the front when armistice No. 4 was signed, and the big game was called off. I will attempt no camouflage hearsay in place of the livid natural descriptions you will in time get from men who have experienced and survived the almost guaranteed result of modern warfare. I wanted to see the front and I may be sent into the army of occupation. I had much curiosity about going over the top, but all men have had that experience say you get cured of all that in a single trip over to meet Fritz. According to some of the wounded men, Sherman’s idea was mild to what this war has been.
We certainly owe a great deal to the men whose lives have won this war and I can feel how much that their valorous deeds deserve to be remembered long after we survivors have all passed away.
There is much discussion among the men as to who is going home and who is going to remain here to assist in the reconstruction work. There is much needed. France shows effects of this, and even previous wars. I am patiently willing to do whatever service I am needed for. I want to see the wounded and such classes go home soon. As for me, if Uncle Sam needs me longer, I am ready to drink his army coffee yet awhile. That just reminds me–the coffee pot will have to be replaced by a much larger one when I get home or I will have to have one of my own, Coffee is never turned down by A.E.F. men, nor the chocolate served each night by the “Y.” It would take a whole book to tell what the Red Cross and Y are worth to us over here. Those who work in that line are certainly deserving of an immense amount of credit in the prosecution of the war.
Much enthusiastic joy must have been shown in the States when Germany capitulated. Some stunts were pulled off here, but the soldiers took it quietly. Lots of their emotional traits have been turned into discipline by systematic training.
I have not seen any of the boys from my home in N. C. though I know many of them are with the A.E.F. Only one boy, Jesse G Willis, who went with me to Camp Pike, is still with me. He is a mighty fine fellow like his brother Robert was. And he has been as true a comrade to me in service as was Robert a friend in the University of Arkansas. All the others who went to camp with me are scattered. I know not where.
I have been stationed for short times at several different places since I came over. I am at present located about two hundred miles from the French coast and about one hundred and twenty-five miles south south-west of Paris. Our drill work is not so intense as it has been. Many interesting games are played instead of so much drill. I have learned so many field games that I’ll never be bothered again in directing a school in lines of field or outdoor amusements. Some games are real food for thought as well as being good exercise. Work has in some respects been reduced to play and it seems to matter not how a soldier gets mental alertness, physical energy and activity, just so he gets them. The end sought and not the means of process of acquiring is important. At night there are indoor games, some of which I do not play. The billeting is interesting, but it is too long a story to write about.
I am getting along O.K., enjoying the cessation of hostilities. On the approach of another Thanksgiving we really have something great to express thanks for. God’s justice had to win and so the possibility of peace is near. I’m almost content here, but the prospect of returning home has stirred occasional longings to go. There are many to be sent back, however, and I may have to wait a long time, even if I’m not sent into Germany. I want everyone to write me. News from home is the very best and I like the best, in letters or packages.
I have some great experiences and I have learned so many good things which I hope to use to some good advantage or purpose when I return home I think every man has been benefited by service. The whole world has been stimulated industrially by the war work and a great neighborhood has been established upon liberty, equality, fraternity. I may have already said too, much and I’m not ordained to preach, Finis.
Your nephew,
John E Manning
NOTES: John Eber Manning was born on October 18, 1890 in Jamesville, NC and died on September 9, 1967 in Williamston, NC. He is buried in the Shadow Lawn Cemetery in Lawrenceville, GA. He was living in Haynes, Arkansas when he registered for the draft. He departed for Europe onboard the Huron from Newport News, VA on August 6, 1918. He was listed as a Pvt. in the Headquarters Company. He listed George Robuck as his next of kin.
TRANSCRIBED BY ISAAC WOLTER