TRANSCRIBED FROM THE LOG CABIN DEMOCRAT AUGUST 15, 1918 P. 3
July 11, 1918.
Dear Folks:
I have been expecting more mail each day, but so far the one lot which came on June 28th, has been the extent of our mail since leaving the states. However, we are waiting patiently, encouraged by the knowledge that there are many letters some where on the road, and when they are received they will be appreciated the more for our having had to wait so long.
Well, there is still no news of interest other than that which you get in the local papers. The local opinion of all allied troops is that the tide is gradually turning in our favor and that it is only a question of months now until Germany will be ready to accept peace terms. However, Uncle Sam is certainly taking no chances, for every possible preparation is being made of indefinite warfare. It certainly is wonderful to see the extent of the preparations and the speed with which everything is moving. The whole of Western France is simply a network of United States camps and it is my opinion that when Uncle Sam get his stage all set and passes the word along the line, there is going to be something doing, the like of which the world has never seen.
Well, it has been several weeks since we reached our destination and as we are now safely ensconced in our quarters, I will give you a brief outline of our movements since leaving the states.
Our orders to move were received at midnight of May, 19th, (American University) and there was some confusion about the camp from that time until we marched at 5 p.m., May 26th. We left Washington very _____few people knowing anything about it, circled the outskirts of the city, crossed the Potomac and entrained at a little town in Virginia just at dusk. We reached New York the next morning, marched right from the train onto a waiting ferry and thence onto our transport out in the bay. Maybe there was not a resounding shout of joy when we saw what was waiting to take us on our way to these far-away shores. Naturally, everyone had been fearing that we might catch some old tramp steamer that had been converted into a transport, and wallow around in the ocean for two or three weeks, but when we saw looming up in the fog ahead of us, the outline of that supreme giant of all the seas the Leviathan, our spirits rose about one thousand per cent. From that moment on I had not the slightest fear of any harm befalling us on our way across. It is really impossible for one to conceive of the size, power, and methods of defense of that monster. Khaki-clad troops streamed up four different gang planks and into the bowels of that floating city two days and two nights without cessation, and, when all was finished and we were ready to start on our journey, there were on board 16,000 troops, 2000 marines, 500 Red Cross nurses and doctors, and a crew of 2,500 sailors and officers the richest prize, by far, that has ever ventured upon the seas.
To think that we were comfortably and safely on our way to foreign battlefields on a ship built by our foe at a cost of several millions was a source of much satisfaction to all on board. She was originally the Vaterland, the pride of the German Empire, but was interned in the harbor of New York on her maiden voyage in 1915, I think it was.
I could go on and write a whole book about our trip across, but suffice it now to say that we had a perfect voyage, debarking upon the northwest coast of France on the afternoon of the seventh day out of New York--a record-breaking trip, considering that we ran a zig-zag course all the way across, and that on the fifth night out had to turn and run 300 miles due south along the coast of Spain, dodging a flotilla of "Subs" which were lying in wait for us. We lost them, alright, but on the afternoon of the sixth day out we ran into a whole nest of them. Can't tell you now the details of the scrap but some day I will tell you how quickly and effectively our gunners sank part of them and put the others to flight. I had just gone up on the officers' promenade deck to look for our captain when the fun started and had an unobstructed view of the whole fight. They were not over 200 yards away, rising to the surface between us and the destroyers which were out some seven or eight hundred yards. (ABOUT 15 LINES OF MISSING TEXT)
I am felng fine and enjoying this game more each day and havae never, for one moment, regretted my enlistment. My only regret is that is did not enter sooner, for I can realize now, as I never did befoe, just how badly we wre needed, for no matter how awful the reports of conditions over here may be, and how seemingly unbelievable some of them may be, nothing, absolutely nothing can equal the reality, for some things beggar description.
With a heart full of love to all, and hoping that you are all well and happy.
Devotedly,
George
Co. B, 43rd Engrs., A.E.F.
Via New York.
NOTES: This letter was written by George Patton Murphy to his parents James and Lettia Murphy. He was born in 1888 and died in 1944. He is buried in the Oak Grove Historic Cemetery in Faulkner County, Arkansas. He enlisted in the fall of 1917 and was trained in engineering at American University in Washington D.C.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
July 11, 1918.
Dear Folks:
I have been expecting more mail each day, but so far the one lot which came on June 28th, has been the extent of our mail since leaving the states. However, we are waiting patiently, encouraged by the knowledge that there are many letters some where on the road, and when they are received they will be appreciated the more for our having had to wait so long.
Well, there is still no news of interest other than that which you get in the local papers. The local opinion of all allied troops is that the tide is gradually turning in our favor and that it is only a question of months now until Germany will be ready to accept peace terms. However, Uncle Sam is certainly taking no chances, for every possible preparation is being made of indefinite warfare. It certainly is wonderful to see the extent of the preparations and the speed with which everything is moving. The whole of Western France is simply a network of United States camps and it is my opinion that when Uncle Sam get his stage all set and passes the word along the line, there is going to be something doing, the like of which the world has never seen.
Well, it has been several weeks since we reached our destination and as we are now safely ensconced in our quarters, I will give you a brief outline of our movements since leaving the states.
Our orders to move were received at midnight of May, 19th, (American University) and there was some confusion about the camp from that time until we marched at 5 p.m., May 26th. We left Washington very _____few people knowing anything about it, circled the outskirts of the city, crossed the Potomac and entrained at a little town in Virginia just at dusk. We reached New York the next morning, marched right from the train onto a waiting ferry and thence onto our transport out in the bay. Maybe there was not a resounding shout of joy when we saw what was waiting to take us on our way to these far-away shores. Naturally, everyone had been fearing that we might catch some old tramp steamer that had been converted into a transport, and wallow around in the ocean for two or three weeks, but when we saw looming up in the fog ahead of us, the outline of that supreme giant of all the seas the Leviathan, our spirits rose about one thousand per cent. From that moment on I had not the slightest fear of any harm befalling us on our way across. It is really impossible for one to conceive of the size, power, and methods of defense of that monster. Khaki-clad troops streamed up four different gang planks and into the bowels of that floating city two days and two nights without cessation, and, when all was finished and we were ready to start on our journey, there were on board 16,000 troops, 2000 marines, 500 Red Cross nurses and doctors, and a crew of 2,500 sailors and officers the richest prize, by far, that has ever ventured upon the seas.
To think that we were comfortably and safely on our way to foreign battlefields on a ship built by our foe at a cost of several millions was a source of much satisfaction to all on board. She was originally the Vaterland, the pride of the German Empire, but was interned in the harbor of New York on her maiden voyage in 1915, I think it was.
I could go on and write a whole book about our trip across, but suffice it now to say that we had a perfect voyage, debarking upon the northwest coast of France on the afternoon of the seventh day out of New York--a record-breaking trip, considering that we ran a zig-zag course all the way across, and that on the fifth night out had to turn and run 300 miles due south along the coast of Spain, dodging a flotilla of "Subs" which were lying in wait for us. We lost them, alright, but on the afternoon of the sixth day out we ran into a whole nest of them. Can't tell you now the details of the scrap but some day I will tell you how quickly and effectively our gunners sank part of them and put the others to flight. I had just gone up on the officers' promenade deck to look for our captain when the fun started and had an unobstructed view of the whole fight. They were not over 200 yards away, rising to the surface between us and the destroyers which were out some seven or eight hundred yards. (ABOUT 15 LINES OF MISSING TEXT)
I am felng fine and enjoying this game more each day and havae never, for one moment, regretted my enlistment. My only regret is that is did not enter sooner, for I can realize now, as I never did befoe, just how badly we wre needed, for no matter how awful the reports of conditions over here may be, and how seemingly unbelievable some of them may be, nothing, absolutely nothing can equal the reality, for some things beggar description.
With a heart full of love to all, and hoping that you are all well and happy.
Devotedly,
George
Co. B, 43rd Engrs., A.E.F.
Via New York.
NOTES: This letter was written by George Patton Murphy to his parents James and Lettia Murphy. He was born in 1888 and died in 1944. He is buried in the Oak Grove Historic Cemetery in Faulkner County, Arkansas. He enlisted in the fall of 1917 and was trained in engineering at American University in Washington D.C.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD