TRANSCRIBED FROM THE SPRINGDALE NEWS NOVEMBER 1, 1918 P. 3
Camp Merritt, N. J., Oct. 25, 1918.
To The Springdale News:
Perhaps some of the people in Springdale and vicinity would like to read a few words from one of the old Co. A boys who unfortunately was ill at the time the 142nd F. A. embarked for overseas, and was left behind.
I have been stationed at several different places around New York since that time, so of course I have seen some of the wonders of the largest city in the world.
Some of the most interesting scenes to me were the famous bridges across East River connecting New York with Brooklyn, the Woolworth building, which is the highest in the world, and which, when it is lit up at night can be seen 40 miles out at sea, I am told. The Statue of Liberty with her burning torch, which is on a small island in the upper bay is a beautiful sight and can also be seen for many miles. The forts with their big guns on both sides of the Bay where it is narrowest. The search lights that play about on the water and the Heliograph lights are all interesting to me. But the prettiest sight is Coney Island. It is at the point of Long Island, at the mouth of the lower bay. It is just a place for pleasure, one can find all kinds of amusements here. The light towers are so thick that at night it looks, from a distance like a bright forest.
I came to Camp Merritt Oct. 1st and a few days later was taken to the base hospital with the Flu, it being my first time in a base hospital I had some new experiences. Was in bed four days and the nurses were real good to me, but up here they put the negroes in the same ward with the whites, which made it very unpleasant to say the least. After I was able to be up, was moved to a different ward, and the first night I was there, a negro went crazy and caused a great disturbance. A few days later a man tried to commit suicide by jumping from a high staging but he did a poor job of it, so wasn't hurt seriously. Such scenes are not pleasant, but they all go to make up army life.
I'm back to duty now in a Casual company. We are under quarantine, which makes it very confining, however, I am somewhat used to that now. We do nothing except a few details and some go for short hikes. Then we are like uncaged birds.
Oh yes, I wish to say that six of the survivors of the Ticonderoga, which was torpedoed and sunk some time ago, are here in this company and they tell some very exciting stories of their experiences.
Will try and relate one fellows story as follows:
"The boat my regiment was on was so loaded that my Battery was put on the freighter, Ticonderoga, while out in mid ocean we got separated from the other boats and one morning about daylight I was on guard up in the crows nest on the mast when a submarine was seen a short distance ahead. The gun crew were all ready and the captain gave the order to fire, but the wind was blowing so they could not understand the command. The submarine opened fire with shrapnel, the first shot blew the gun and crew off the deck and the second shot tore the wireless station to pieces, I don't know how I got on deck, I can't remember. Our boat caught on fire and we raised the white flag, but when we had the fire about out they opened fire on us again. The shrapnel were flying so thick I don't see how any of us escaped. Men were being torn to pieces and blown away. Some did not get out of their bunks and some were badly burned. They torpedoed us twice. I ran to the life boat assigned to me and it was full of shrapnel holes. We managed to lower four life boats, but they kept shooting at us and sank all but one. They came up beside the sinking ship and got a few sacks of potatoes. They asked for our captain, he was in the boat wounded and had his clothes in such a shape his rank could not be told, so we told them he went down with the ship. They covered us with pistols and took two pictures of us with our hands up. The captain then asked his men what they would do with us, one suggested they tie us on behind, which they did but there being so much slack in the rope when it tightened it broke, they did not leave then, but stayed in sight until the next morning. We drifted about for four days. There were twenty of us and we had only one barrel of water, a crate of pine apple and hard tack, one of the men died and the rest of us were nearly dead when we were picked up by an English ship and brought here where we are waiting to get a furlough home.
These boys had been in the service only three months, so of course they were not very well seasoned. They all have marks of shrapnel and some are still so nervous they can hardly talk. They said one fellow whose hair was black had turned gray by the time they arrived here. Am sure those fellows realize just how horrible war is.
I look like I have had no chance to do my “bit” and three months study and as always training in the Signal School while at Camp Beauregard hasn't done the Government any good yet, although I am hoping that I will soon join my regiment on the other side. I am sure they are carrying out our motto, "Don't be a coward." Will bring my letter to a close for fear it finds the waste basket.
Yours Respectfully,
Cpl. Harry T. Umholtz.
NOTES: Harry Tracy Umholtz was born in Johnson County, Arkansas on February 2, 1891 and died in Rogers, Arkansas on August 24, 1952. He is buried in the Pleasant Grove Cemetery in Rogers. His military headstone identifies him as an Arkansas soldier serving as a Cpl. in the 142nd FA, 39th Division.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
Camp Merritt, N. J., Oct. 25, 1918.
To The Springdale News:
Perhaps some of the people in Springdale and vicinity would like to read a few words from one of the old Co. A boys who unfortunately was ill at the time the 142nd F. A. embarked for overseas, and was left behind.
I have been stationed at several different places around New York since that time, so of course I have seen some of the wonders of the largest city in the world.
Some of the most interesting scenes to me were the famous bridges across East River connecting New York with Brooklyn, the Woolworth building, which is the highest in the world, and which, when it is lit up at night can be seen 40 miles out at sea, I am told. The Statue of Liberty with her burning torch, which is on a small island in the upper bay is a beautiful sight and can also be seen for many miles. The forts with their big guns on both sides of the Bay where it is narrowest. The search lights that play about on the water and the Heliograph lights are all interesting to me. But the prettiest sight is Coney Island. It is at the point of Long Island, at the mouth of the lower bay. It is just a place for pleasure, one can find all kinds of amusements here. The light towers are so thick that at night it looks, from a distance like a bright forest.
I came to Camp Merritt Oct. 1st and a few days later was taken to the base hospital with the Flu, it being my first time in a base hospital I had some new experiences. Was in bed four days and the nurses were real good to me, but up here they put the negroes in the same ward with the whites, which made it very unpleasant to say the least. After I was able to be up, was moved to a different ward, and the first night I was there, a negro went crazy and caused a great disturbance. A few days later a man tried to commit suicide by jumping from a high staging but he did a poor job of it, so wasn't hurt seriously. Such scenes are not pleasant, but they all go to make up army life.
I'm back to duty now in a Casual company. We are under quarantine, which makes it very confining, however, I am somewhat used to that now. We do nothing except a few details and some go for short hikes. Then we are like uncaged birds.
Oh yes, I wish to say that six of the survivors of the Ticonderoga, which was torpedoed and sunk some time ago, are here in this company and they tell some very exciting stories of their experiences.
Will try and relate one fellows story as follows:
"The boat my regiment was on was so loaded that my Battery was put on the freighter, Ticonderoga, while out in mid ocean we got separated from the other boats and one morning about daylight I was on guard up in the crows nest on the mast when a submarine was seen a short distance ahead. The gun crew were all ready and the captain gave the order to fire, but the wind was blowing so they could not understand the command. The submarine opened fire with shrapnel, the first shot blew the gun and crew off the deck and the second shot tore the wireless station to pieces, I don't know how I got on deck, I can't remember. Our boat caught on fire and we raised the white flag, but when we had the fire about out they opened fire on us again. The shrapnel were flying so thick I don't see how any of us escaped. Men were being torn to pieces and blown away. Some did not get out of their bunks and some were badly burned. They torpedoed us twice. I ran to the life boat assigned to me and it was full of shrapnel holes. We managed to lower four life boats, but they kept shooting at us and sank all but one. They came up beside the sinking ship and got a few sacks of potatoes. They asked for our captain, he was in the boat wounded and had his clothes in such a shape his rank could not be told, so we told them he went down with the ship. They covered us with pistols and took two pictures of us with our hands up. The captain then asked his men what they would do with us, one suggested they tie us on behind, which they did but there being so much slack in the rope when it tightened it broke, they did not leave then, but stayed in sight until the next morning. We drifted about for four days. There were twenty of us and we had only one barrel of water, a crate of pine apple and hard tack, one of the men died and the rest of us were nearly dead when we were picked up by an English ship and brought here where we are waiting to get a furlough home.
These boys had been in the service only three months, so of course they were not very well seasoned. They all have marks of shrapnel and some are still so nervous they can hardly talk. They said one fellow whose hair was black had turned gray by the time they arrived here. Am sure those fellows realize just how horrible war is.
I look like I have had no chance to do my “bit” and three months study and as always training in the Signal School while at Camp Beauregard hasn't done the Government any good yet, although I am hoping that I will soon join my regiment on the other side. I am sure they are carrying out our motto, "Don't be a coward." Will bring my letter to a close for fear it finds the waste basket.
Yours Respectfully,
Cpl. Harry T. Umholtz.
NOTES: Harry Tracy Umholtz was born in Johnson County, Arkansas on February 2, 1891 and died in Rogers, Arkansas on August 24, 1952. He is buried in the Pleasant Grove Cemetery in Rogers. His military headstone identifies him as an Arkansas soldier serving as a Cpl. in the 142nd FA, 39th Division.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD