TRANSCRIBED FROM THE HOT SPRINGS NEW ERA DECEMBER 16, 1918 P. 8
In France, Oct. 25, 1918.
Major and Mrs. Edward S. Lockett Sr.
Hot Springs, Ark.
My Very Dear Friends:
As I was just about to allow myself to believe that every human being in America was dead or that the trains carrying mail have been so overworked that they decided to take a rest or that I had been forgotten by those I love so well, a soldier all muddy and dirty with this “mud,” which is omnipresent and stays with us poked his head in the little hole in which I was staying and said, “Here is a letter for you,” I had to hold my breath to keep from telling him that he was just “kidding” me, but when I got a letter sure enough, in my own hands and turned it over several times to see if it was real, and that It was from you and Mrs. Lockett, well, while there is usually only 100 per cent to anything, I felt 200 per cent better. I felt somewhat like a child whose father had promised it a whipping and then forgot about it. We have all had that feeling in our childhood days.
I was certainly glad that my foster mother’s health had improved so much since she came to Hot Springs and I don’t blame you one bit for moving your wholesale business from Shreveport to Hot Springs for “Health is more than wealth.” As for me, I am in the very best of health and am going to try my best to stay that way, Of course there are times when exposure makes me feel “all to the bad” but like my fellow soldiers I brace up for I don’t want to be “out of action” one minute until we whip the kaiser and his brutal accomplices. Sometimes, however, when shells and shrapnel land right close to me my legs kinder get out of line but only for an instant.
You wrote about your kinsman, Colonel James Lockett, who is commander of the 11th cavalry U. S. regulars, I was talking with Colonel Seivert only a few hours ago who was recently attached to the 11th as a brother officer of Colonel Lockett and he says that Colonel Lockett is one of the bravest and most efficient officers in the army. I would most certainly like to meet your son Edward Jr., who will probably soon be promoted to a commissioned officer of field artillery. I am sure it wouldn’t take us long to get chummy, for while he is your son I am your foster son, hence we would be like brothers.
France is certainly a most beautiful country, that is where the Hun demons haven’t devastated it. I have been over a great part of it and where war had not laid its heavy hand, I cannot conceive how nature could make anything more beautiful. But the part where I now am isn’t what it used to be. It is nothing but ruin and destruction personified., all due to the inhumanity of the Huns. But at tis date, October 26th, the allies have the Germans on the run all along the line and France, after their surrender, which is sure to come, will come into her own again. Like all American soldiers, I like the French people but believe me I am not coming back to the United States with a French girl calling me “hubby.” When the war is over and I conclude to enter either the war or the peace of matrimony. It’s a good old southern born American girl for me.
I received the photos of Mrs. Lockett and yourself and they are splendid of you. I think so much of them that I have a little case which I carry them in and between “shells” I look at them and long to be with you again just like when I worked in your wholesale house at Shreveport.
The opinion is gaining ground very rapidly here that the Kaiser is about ready to quit. Well, we hope he won’t until we get a chance to tear up Germany like he has torn up part of France.
It is getting late and I am tired out with the day’s fighting and must sleep some so as to be ready for any night attacks which may happen any old time. My love to you both and when I start back to the U. S. A. I am coming to you.
Your foster son,
Burland H. Roberts,
One-Sixty-One, U. S. A.
NOTES:
TRANSCRIBED BY CHLOE SMITH
In France, Oct. 25, 1918.
Major and Mrs. Edward S. Lockett Sr.
Hot Springs, Ark.
My Very Dear Friends:
As I was just about to allow myself to believe that every human being in America was dead or that the trains carrying mail have been so overworked that they decided to take a rest or that I had been forgotten by those I love so well, a soldier all muddy and dirty with this “mud,” which is omnipresent and stays with us poked his head in the little hole in which I was staying and said, “Here is a letter for you,” I had to hold my breath to keep from telling him that he was just “kidding” me, but when I got a letter sure enough, in my own hands and turned it over several times to see if it was real, and that It was from you and Mrs. Lockett, well, while there is usually only 100 per cent to anything, I felt 200 per cent better. I felt somewhat like a child whose father had promised it a whipping and then forgot about it. We have all had that feeling in our childhood days.
I was certainly glad that my foster mother’s health had improved so much since she came to Hot Springs and I don’t blame you one bit for moving your wholesale business from Shreveport to Hot Springs for “Health is more than wealth.” As for me, I am in the very best of health and am going to try my best to stay that way, Of course there are times when exposure makes me feel “all to the bad” but like my fellow soldiers I brace up for I don’t want to be “out of action” one minute until we whip the kaiser and his brutal accomplices. Sometimes, however, when shells and shrapnel land right close to me my legs kinder get out of line but only for an instant.
You wrote about your kinsman, Colonel James Lockett, who is commander of the 11th cavalry U. S. regulars, I was talking with Colonel Seivert only a few hours ago who was recently attached to the 11th as a brother officer of Colonel Lockett and he says that Colonel Lockett is one of the bravest and most efficient officers in the army. I would most certainly like to meet your son Edward Jr., who will probably soon be promoted to a commissioned officer of field artillery. I am sure it wouldn’t take us long to get chummy, for while he is your son I am your foster son, hence we would be like brothers.
France is certainly a most beautiful country, that is where the Hun demons haven’t devastated it. I have been over a great part of it and where war had not laid its heavy hand, I cannot conceive how nature could make anything more beautiful. But the part where I now am isn’t what it used to be. It is nothing but ruin and destruction personified., all due to the inhumanity of the Huns. But at tis date, October 26th, the allies have the Germans on the run all along the line and France, after their surrender, which is sure to come, will come into her own again. Like all American soldiers, I like the French people but believe me I am not coming back to the United States with a French girl calling me “hubby.” When the war is over and I conclude to enter either the war or the peace of matrimony. It’s a good old southern born American girl for me.
I received the photos of Mrs. Lockett and yourself and they are splendid of you. I think so much of them that I have a little case which I carry them in and between “shells” I look at them and long to be with you again just like when I worked in your wholesale house at Shreveport.
The opinion is gaining ground very rapidly here that the Kaiser is about ready to quit. Well, we hope he won’t until we get a chance to tear up Germany like he has torn up part of France.
It is getting late and I am tired out with the day’s fighting and must sleep some so as to be ready for any night attacks which may happen any old time. My love to you both and when I start back to the U. S. A. I am coming to you.
Your foster son,
Burland H. Roberts,
One-Sixty-One, U. S. A.
NOTES:
TRANSCRIBED BY CHLOE SMITH