TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ASHLEY EAGLE MARCH 27, 1919 P. 1
I have returned from Coblenz. We had a very pleasant trip on the boat going down the Rhine, sight seeing. Coblenz is a larger city than Trier, but Trier is the oldest city and I like it the best.
Well, there is no use to try to tell you my experiences in this great war. Being in it almost a year, I have seen lots of things that looked impossible. It is something awful to see the battle fields and the mass of ruin of large cities, factories and coal mines crumbled to the earth with high explosive shells. I think every American soldier should be very glad that he helped crumble Prussian militarism. The noblest sacrifice that a peaceful country can demand of its citizens is that they go to war. But as our great philosopher, Emerson said: “In his best moments, no one speaks of sacrifice.” Now I guess you have some idea of what poor France has sacrificed in this great world struggle. In 1776 we fought for the liberty of our own country; now we are fighting for the freedom of the world. We had only principles to uphold. The mission is glorious and we are equal to it. The U. S. more than any other country, offers privileges of individual freedom, and of political unity, opportunities for prosperity. The great gifts have not narrowed, they have broadened the hearts, the minds, the souls of the American.
One thing, however, we should never forget; when we were fighting for our independence the French gave us every sort of assistance; and now we have paid France the great debt we owed her. I have traveled across France in box cars and trucks. You drive over roads, the best in the world in peace times, now much injured by heavy travel and lack of repair. You pass among fields which for almost five years have been cultivated by the willing, but weak arms of the women, the children and the old men.
You go through villages where many of the houses are closed forever, fathers and sons having been killed in the war. You meet aged men, who have lost their sons, women who have lost their husbands, young girls who have lost their sweethearts. All the joy for these people has gone out of life. Their valor remains. As you travel you cannot judge of what France used to be; you can only touch her desolate soul which we have come to help restore, and by hard fighting of all of our allies we have won. Now you may hear some awful things told about France, for some have forgot, that war time is not like being at home where you can have all of the best conveniences. Some people will give poor old France a bad name. Pay no attention to such talk as this. Bear in mind these poor French people have been struggling for almost five long years for freedom. They had no time to go home and clean streets and take care of their homes. So remember when you hear any one knocking France you can say he is not much of a man. Suppose you had been that long with a Burglar at your threshold, obliged to hold him by the toroat, how well do you suppose things would look about your farm, your garden or your home. Stop and think of these things as you go along along. French courtesy is simply unexcelled, the finest of all. The best way to judge a nation is to notice in what manner the women occupy themselves, in what manner the men make sacrifices. The true French-woman seldom has a thought beyond the family; the Frenchman labors and toils for his wife, and especially for his children.
I am going back to France soon. Oh, yes, I have found me a beautiful French girl, and she is very busy learning to speak English first class. She speaks good English now. And she wants to go to America. So look out. I may surprise you some of these days.
NOTES: This letter was written on March 2, 1919 by William Archie “Buddy” Mehearg from Germany to his father Thomas A. Mehearg of Parkdale, Arkansas. William was born on September 21, 1891 in Alabama and died on July 20, 1936 in Tyler, Texas. He is buried in the Mehearg Grave in Cabool, Texas. His military headstone identifies him as a Missouri Corp. in the 354th Infantry. He departed for France from Montreal, Canada on June 5, 1918 onboard the Acamus. He was listed as a Private in the 354th Infantry, 89th Division. He returned to the US from Brest, France on May 15, 1919 onboard the Leviathan. He arrived in Hoboken, New Jersey on May 22, 1919.
TRANSCRIBED BY LINDA MATTHEWS
I have returned from Coblenz. We had a very pleasant trip on the boat going down the Rhine, sight seeing. Coblenz is a larger city than Trier, but Trier is the oldest city and I like it the best.
Well, there is no use to try to tell you my experiences in this great war. Being in it almost a year, I have seen lots of things that looked impossible. It is something awful to see the battle fields and the mass of ruin of large cities, factories and coal mines crumbled to the earth with high explosive shells. I think every American soldier should be very glad that he helped crumble Prussian militarism. The noblest sacrifice that a peaceful country can demand of its citizens is that they go to war. But as our great philosopher, Emerson said: “In his best moments, no one speaks of sacrifice.” Now I guess you have some idea of what poor France has sacrificed in this great world struggle. In 1776 we fought for the liberty of our own country; now we are fighting for the freedom of the world. We had only principles to uphold. The mission is glorious and we are equal to it. The U. S. more than any other country, offers privileges of individual freedom, and of political unity, opportunities for prosperity. The great gifts have not narrowed, they have broadened the hearts, the minds, the souls of the American.
One thing, however, we should never forget; when we were fighting for our independence the French gave us every sort of assistance; and now we have paid France the great debt we owed her. I have traveled across France in box cars and trucks. You drive over roads, the best in the world in peace times, now much injured by heavy travel and lack of repair. You pass among fields which for almost five years have been cultivated by the willing, but weak arms of the women, the children and the old men.
You go through villages where many of the houses are closed forever, fathers and sons having been killed in the war. You meet aged men, who have lost their sons, women who have lost their husbands, young girls who have lost their sweethearts. All the joy for these people has gone out of life. Their valor remains. As you travel you cannot judge of what France used to be; you can only touch her desolate soul which we have come to help restore, and by hard fighting of all of our allies we have won. Now you may hear some awful things told about France, for some have forgot, that war time is not like being at home where you can have all of the best conveniences. Some people will give poor old France a bad name. Pay no attention to such talk as this. Bear in mind these poor French people have been struggling for almost five long years for freedom. They had no time to go home and clean streets and take care of their homes. So remember when you hear any one knocking France you can say he is not much of a man. Suppose you had been that long with a Burglar at your threshold, obliged to hold him by the toroat, how well do you suppose things would look about your farm, your garden or your home. Stop and think of these things as you go along along. French courtesy is simply unexcelled, the finest of all. The best way to judge a nation is to notice in what manner the women occupy themselves, in what manner the men make sacrifices. The true French-woman seldom has a thought beyond the family; the Frenchman labors and toils for his wife, and especially for his children.
I am going back to France soon. Oh, yes, I have found me a beautiful French girl, and she is very busy learning to speak English first class. She speaks good English now. And she wants to go to America. So look out. I may surprise you some of these days.
NOTES: This letter was written on March 2, 1919 by William Archie “Buddy” Mehearg from Germany to his father Thomas A. Mehearg of Parkdale, Arkansas. William was born on September 21, 1891 in Alabama and died on July 20, 1936 in Tyler, Texas. He is buried in the Mehearg Grave in Cabool, Texas. His military headstone identifies him as a Missouri Corp. in the 354th Infantry. He departed for France from Montreal, Canada on June 5, 1918 onboard the Acamus. He was listed as a Private in the 354th Infantry, 89th Division. He returned to the US from Brest, France on May 15, 1919 onboard the Leviathan. He arrived in Hoboken, New Jersey on May 22, 1919.
TRANSCRIBED BY LINDA MATTHEWS