TRANSCRIBED FROM THE POCAHONTAS STAR HERALD JUNE 7, 1918 P. 2
Pensacola, Fla., May 5, 1918.
Mr. L. F. Blankenship,
Dear Sir and Friend:
If you will allow me—a jackie—a little space in the “old Reliable,” I shall say a few words to my dear old friends and relatives, as I can write numbers this way that I could not, otherwise, telling them of a few of my experiences during my two months military service as quartermaster in the Aviation Dept. of the Navy.
Everyone can and must do his or her bit if we shall win, and we will. Who is it that wants it said of them after the great struggle is over that they did nothing in winning the battle that brought everlasting peace and freedom to the world?
I was examined, accepted, and started to the U.S. Training Station at Charleston, S.C., arriving there Sunday noon, March 3rd. It was a nice journey of 992 miles, from Pocahontas, although it was rather a solitary one, as I was leaving home and friends and everyone near and dear to me, but I was buoyed up by the fact of knowing that it was the country’s need and call that I was heeding, and not a particular fancy of my own. After reporting at headquarters, I was sent to a detention camp – 4th Reg. It is a camp where new recruits are received, drilled, equipped with uniforms and supplies, vaccinated, inoculated, and deprived of all connections with the rest of the world only by correspondence. But that is not bad; being sent to a new place, you have no fear of getting lost from your new home as these camps are surrounded by a 7 foot barbed wire fence and guards constantly walking around it. This detention lasts at least 21 days, and possibly longer.
Easter Sunday, 512 of us from the 4th regiment were sent across the Cooper river, to a rifle range at Mt. Pleasaut for a ten days’ drill in target practice. During the first week we were there, one of our boys was overtaken by that dreaded disease, spinal meningitis, and died. Consequently, we were put under quarantine next day, which is as bad, if not worse than detention. The following week we were given throat culture, which tested out, that about twenty of our boys were germ carriers, and as a result they were put into an isolation camp. The following Saturday our quarantine was lifted and we proceeded with our shooting until the 17thh of April. We were again transferred back to Charleston to await further orders.
Each night we were granted liberty while not under quarantine and generally went out to town, a distance of one and a half miles. The people at both Charleston and Mt. Pleasant were so nice to us. They always tried to show us a good time when we had liberty, because they understood our circumstances and knew how much we appreciated the favors and hospitalities shown us while in their homes and elsewhere. I was invited out to a number of private homes for meals and to spend the evenings.
I dare not fail to mention the Y.W.C.A. ladies of Charleston, who were ever ready to entertain us at their reception hall.
Before I go farther I will tell you of some of the things of note I saw while at Mt. Pleasant. I had been told of the Isle of Palms before I went over. It is a noted summer resort down on the coast about ten miles distance. The first Sunday afternoon I was off I caught a street car and went down. That was my first time being on a beach and it happened it was a rough afternoon, and it was some sight to me to see those great waves rolling so high and coming with such rapidity. I collected quite an assortment of sea shells.
On the way down, I passed through Ft. Moultrie, that old place of historic significance. It and Isle of Palms are both on Sullivan’s Island. From Ft. Moultrie could be seen Ft. Sumpter standing out in the ocean, about half a mile distance. I also saw some of our master guns stationed at these forts.
On April the 18th, a draft of 127 men was made and I was one of the number. While waiting for the transfer, it was surmised among us that we were going to every country in the world, I think. While in waiting, they had us down in the harbor loading a big Atlantic transport. It was once a big German ship, but was sunk out in Charleston harbor two years ago. Later it was raised and christianed the “Houston.” We put over thirty car loads of coal on it, to supply it in going over and return. It consumes twenty tons each day.
I saw most every kind of boat stationed in the harbor—coast patrol, submarine chasers and battle ships. Dewey’s noted flag ship, the “Olympia” was stationed there when we left.
At noon on the 24th of April, we got orders to be ready to leave for Pensacola, Fla. Then our suspense was lifted. We landed here April 25th. The next morning when we arose, about the first thing to be heard was the flutter of hydroplane engines, and the next thing we knew the air was full of those planes. They are as common to me now as black birds in the spring back home.
Before I close will tell you of my big surprise when I reached this this camp. Among the first persons I saw, was my good friend Hope Gamel. He is master of arms of the mess hall. His wife is here with him. I am real glad to have met someone from home. Hope brought last week’s Herald out to me. I was sure glad to see the display of patriotism shown through the Liberty Loan columns. It was a great treat to me to muse over the columns of the Herald again.
I would like to tell you of a number of other things of interest as so many have asked me, but time and space won’t permit at this time, that is, if the editor prints this, if so I shall write again.
I would be glad to have a letter from any and all my friends. You don’t realize how much we service men do appreciate them, when miles from home and friends. Take this as a personal letter to you and write me. I am ever your sincere friend,
Claud Mock.
Naval Air Station, Pensacola, Fla.
NOTES: Claude (headstone shows name spelled with E) Lee Mock was born on June 19, 1890 in Randolph County Arkansas and died on July 15, 1971. He is buried in the Randolph Memorial Gardens in Pocahontas, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY STEPHANE LECOINTE
Pensacola, Fla., May 5, 1918.
Mr. L. F. Blankenship,
Dear Sir and Friend:
If you will allow me—a jackie—a little space in the “old Reliable,” I shall say a few words to my dear old friends and relatives, as I can write numbers this way that I could not, otherwise, telling them of a few of my experiences during my two months military service as quartermaster in the Aviation Dept. of the Navy.
Everyone can and must do his or her bit if we shall win, and we will. Who is it that wants it said of them after the great struggle is over that they did nothing in winning the battle that brought everlasting peace and freedom to the world?
I was examined, accepted, and started to the U.S. Training Station at Charleston, S.C., arriving there Sunday noon, March 3rd. It was a nice journey of 992 miles, from Pocahontas, although it was rather a solitary one, as I was leaving home and friends and everyone near and dear to me, but I was buoyed up by the fact of knowing that it was the country’s need and call that I was heeding, and not a particular fancy of my own. After reporting at headquarters, I was sent to a detention camp – 4th Reg. It is a camp where new recruits are received, drilled, equipped with uniforms and supplies, vaccinated, inoculated, and deprived of all connections with the rest of the world only by correspondence. But that is not bad; being sent to a new place, you have no fear of getting lost from your new home as these camps are surrounded by a 7 foot barbed wire fence and guards constantly walking around it. This detention lasts at least 21 days, and possibly longer.
Easter Sunday, 512 of us from the 4th regiment were sent across the Cooper river, to a rifle range at Mt. Pleasaut for a ten days’ drill in target practice. During the first week we were there, one of our boys was overtaken by that dreaded disease, spinal meningitis, and died. Consequently, we were put under quarantine next day, which is as bad, if not worse than detention. The following week we were given throat culture, which tested out, that about twenty of our boys were germ carriers, and as a result they were put into an isolation camp. The following Saturday our quarantine was lifted and we proceeded with our shooting until the 17thh of April. We were again transferred back to Charleston to await further orders.
Each night we were granted liberty while not under quarantine and generally went out to town, a distance of one and a half miles. The people at both Charleston and Mt. Pleasant were so nice to us. They always tried to show us a good time when we had liberty, because they understood our circumstances and knew how much we appreciated the favors and hospitalities shown us while in their homes and elsewhere. I was invited out to a number of private homes for meals and to spend the evenings.
I dare not fail to mention the Y.W.C.A. ladies of Charleston, who were ever ready to entertain us at their reception hall.
Before I go farther I will tell you of some of the things of note I saw while at Mt. Pleasant. I had been told of the Isle of Palms before I went over. It is a noted summer resort down on the coast about ten miles distance. The first Sunday afternoon I was off I caught a street car and went down. That was my first time being on a beach and it happened it was a rough afternoon, and it was some sight to me to see those great waves rolling so high and coming with such rapidity. I collected quite an assortment of sea shells.
On the way down, I passed through Ft. Moultrie, that old place of historic significance. It and Isle of Palms are both on Sullivan’s Island. From Ft. Moultrie could be seen Ft. Sumpter standing out in the ocean, about half a mile distance. I also saw some of our master guns stationed at these forts.
On April the 18th, a draft of 127 men was made and I was one of the number. While waiting for the transfer, it was surmised among us that we were going to every country in the world, I think. While in waiting, they had us down in the harbor loading a big Atlantic transport. It was once a big German ship, but was sunk out in Charleston harbor two years ago. Later it was raised and christianed the “Houston.” We put over thirty car loads of coal on it, to supply it in going over and return. It consumes twenty tons each day.
I saw most every kind of boat stationed in the harbor—coast patrol, submarine chasers and battle ships. Dewey’s noted flag ship, the “Olympia” was stationed there when we left.
At noon on the 24th of April, we got orders to be ready to leave for Pensacola, Fla. Then our suspense was lifted. We landed here April 25th. The next morning when we arose, about the first thing to be heard was the flutter of hydroplane engines, and the next thing we knew the air was full of those planes. They are as common to me now as black birds in the spring back home.
Before I close will tell you of my big surprise when I reached this this camp. Among the first persons I saw, was my good friend Hope Gamel. He is master of arms of the mess hall. His wife is here with him. I am real glad to have met someone from home. Hope brought last week’s Herald out to me. I was sure glad to see the display of patriotism shown through the Liberty Loan columns. It was a great treat to me to muse over the columns of the Herald again.
I would like to tell you of a number of other things of interest as so many have asked me, but time and space won’t permit at this time, that is, if the editor prints this, if so I shall write again.
I would be glad to have a letter from any and all my friends. You don’t realize how much we service men do appreciate them, when miles from home and friends. Take this as a personal letter to you and write me. I am ever your sincere friend,
Claud Mock.
Naval Air Station, Pensacola, Fla.
NOTES: Claude (headstone shows name spelled with E) Lee Mock was born on June 19, 1890 in Randolph County Arkansas and died on July 15, 1971. He is buried in the Randolph Memorial Gardens in Pocahontas, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY STEPHANE LECOINTE