TRANSCRIBED FROM THE COLUMBIA BANNER JUNE 26, 1918 P. 4
Douglas, Ariz.
June 19, 1918
Mr. and Mrs. J. T. Reeves,
Magnolia, Ark..
Dear Father and Mother:
Just a few lines tonight to let you know I’m feeling fine. Sure hope all are well at home.
I re’d your letter yesterday and must say that I was more than glad to hear from my dear father and mother because they sure are interesting to me. I feel good when I get a letter from home any time.
How is everything around home? I suppose the same as usual tho. Guess you all would like to know if I am satisfied with being a “Sammie.” I am learning fast the drill that we have set before as, but I have seen many things of interest I would never have seen at home. The boys of the national army are sure learning fast, and we are really making the regulars here at our camp ashamed of themselves. But really I like the army fine.
I was sure glad to get that letter from Hubbard, but you must send me his address. I can not write him till you do. Also send me Uncle Ed’s address.
Well mother, we seldom get a rain out here, ‘tis so dry at times a snake can not live here, and the sand storms are something awful. They are really disagreeable at times. The weather is awful hot, hot, not near as hot as it will be before summer is over.
We are having to drill mighty hard now, but it does not hurt me one bit I feel good all the time. We have been testing our gas masks and believe me the gas is strong, when we first go into it, it nearly burns our eyes out and when we put our masks on we think we can’t breathe, but we can, it simply saves our lives. If the gas is as strong in France as it is here we will have to wear our masks all the time. I don’t know when we will get our horses, tho’ I don’t care, for that will make our work harder.
I am still near my home boys. We are so nice and chummy to each other. My officers are as good to me as can be and I certainly appreciate their kindness, too.
The Sundays are long lonesome old days, just seem to drag off. The week days are not so dull for we have too much work to get lonely then, and ‘tis only on Sundays we have time to get very homesick.
Yes, I guess Grady and Floyd looked funny at their little game but if they can fight they had bitter be getting ready to help us sack a few Huns for we are sure preparing to give them a fight when we go “over the top.”
I guess most everybody back home is about through work. I wish I could have finished my crop, for I know it’s hard on papa. So glad ‘tho you all have made it so well this far and hope you will make a big crop.
Tell everybody hello for me and tell all that wish, to write me a letter for letters are welcome any time in Camp life.
Well mamma, I hope you will excuse this real short letter, but ‘tis “lights out” and that means bed time in camp, but you can always know I still love my mother and father, and think of you all each and every day. So write me often and all the news. Tell the children to be good. Love to all.
Your affectionate son,
Pvt. Richard Reeves.
NOTES: Richard E. Reeves was born in Montgomery, Alabama on December 30, 1888 and died on June 20, 1955. He is buried in the Philadelphia Cemetery, Philadelphia, Arkansas, Columbia County. His military headstone identifies him as an Arkansas Horseshoer, US Army, WWI. He was identified as being tall and stout with brown eyes and dark hair. Letters from his brother Hubbard can be found on this site.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
Douglas, Ariz.
June 19, 1918
Mr. and Mrs. J. T. Reeves,
Magnolia, Ark..
Dear Father and Mother:
Just a few lines tonight to let you know I’m feeling fine. Sure hope all are well at home.
I re’d your letter yesterday and must say that I was more than glad to hear from my dear father and mother because they sure are interesting to me. I feel good when I get a letter from home any time.
How is everything around home? I suppose the same as usual tho. Guess you all would like to know if I am satisfied with being a “Sammie.” I am learning fast the drill that we have set before as, but I have seen many things of interest I would never have seen at home. The boys of the national army are sure learning fast, and we are really making the regulars here at our camp ashamed of themselves. But really I like the army fine.
I was sure glad to get that letter from Hubbard, but you must send me his address. I can not write him till you do. Also send me Uncle Ed’s address.
Well mother, we seldom get a rain out here, ‘tis so dry at times a snake can not live here, and the sand storms are something awful. They are really disagreeable at times. The weather is awful hot, hot, not near as hot as it will be before summer is over.
We are having to drill mighty hard now, but it does not hurt me one bit I feel good all the time. We have been testing our gas masks and believe me the gas is strong, when we first go into it, it nearly burns our eyes out and when we put our masks on we think we can’t breathe, but we can, it simply saves our lives. If the gas is as strong in France as it is here we will have to wear our masks all the time. I don’t know when we will get our horses, tho’ I don’t care, for that will make our work harder.
I am still near my home boys. We are so nice and chummy to each other. My officers are as good to me as can be and I certainly appreciate their kindness, too.
The Sundays are long lonesome old days, just seem to drag off. The week days are not so dull for we have too much work to get lonely then, and ‘tis only on Sundays we have time to get very homesick.
Yes, I guess Grady and Floyd looked funny at their little game but if they can fight they had bitter be getting ready to help us sack a few Huns for we are sure preparing to give them a fight when we go “over the top.”
I guess most everybody back home is about through work. I wish I could have finished my crop, for I know it’s hard on papa. So glad ‘tho you all have made it so well this far and hope you will make a big crop.
Tell everybody hello for me and tell all that wish, to write me a letter for letters are welcome any time in Camp life.
Well mamma, I hope you will excuse this real short letter, but ‘tis “lights out” and that means bed time in camp, but you can always know I still love my mother and father, and think of you all each and every day. So write me often and all the news. Tell the children to be good. Love to all.
Your affectionate son,
Pvt. Richard Reeves.
NOTES: Richard E. Reeves was born in Montgomery, Alabama on December 30, 1888 and died on June 20, 1955. He is buried in the Philadelphia Cemetery, Philadelphia, Arkansas, Columbia County. His military headstone identifies him as an Arkansas Horseshoer, US Army, WWI. He was identified as being tall and stout with brown eyes and dark hair. Letters from his brother Hubbard can be found on this site.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT