TRANSCRIBED FROM THE LOG CABIN DEMOCRAT SEPTEMBER 5, 1918 P. 6
Camp Mills, N.Y.
August 25, 1918.
Dear Editor and Friends:
I shall now try to give a short narrative of our trip from Camp Beauregard, La., to our present camp on Long Island, N.Y.
We were ready, we thought, on August 10 for our trip to port of embarkation, and were anxious for the call that would start us on our journey--that we knew would carry us far away. But the expected call did not come until the morning of August 14. About 8:30 a.m. the order came for 113 men from our battery to entrain within thirty minutes, and they were ready, for most of us had slept in our clothes, with packs rolled the night before, as we were expecting to be called any moment. Our 113 men left camp at 9 a. m., and the remainder of the men left at 11 a.m.
Now we are off--from Camp Beauregard to we knew not where, and cared less. Just so we were going--that was what we wanted!
After six or eight hours we arrived in the city of Shreveport, La., beautifully situated in the northern part of Louisiana. After staying in the yards there more than an hour we were again sailing for dear old Arkansas. Soon we are back in our native state, but dark comes on and we are ordered to retire at 9 p.m.
As the sun arose on the morning of the 15th it found us far past Pine Bluff and on the road for Jonesboro. In that pleasant little city we met a very warm reception. The people with their hospitality were awaiting us, and there we received some of the benefits of the great Red Cross; but as our journey had not been accomplished yet, we are soon on the train again headed straight for Missouri. As the moaning engine carries us along the Cotton Belt, we are soon in Missouri, but for a short stay only, for just as the sun was sinking low we crossed the Father of Waters into Illinois, thence up the mighty Mississippi to East St. Louis, arriving there at 2:30 a.m. August 16. Daylight found us on another road, the celebrated Wabash--and for speed we jumped from 20 to 40 miles per hour.
In Illinois we saw some real farming country. The most beautiful farms of all the Northern States lie in Illinois near Decatur. I thought before then I knew what a farm was, but I did not. I had never seen a sure-enough farm until we reached the corn belt of Illinois. Passing on through Illinois into Indiana, then to Michigan, as luck would have it we got to pass through the city of Detroit and crossed the river into Canada at 8:30 a.m. We crossed the river on a large ferry which took train and all at one load. We did not even leave our beds, and many of the boys did not even awake from their pleasant sleep in the Pullmans.
Now we are out of the United States and in the Dominion of Canada. There we ride for sixteen hours through the provinces and at 4 p.m. we arrive at the beautiful city of Niagara Falls, on the Canadian side. There we detrain, visit the Falls, which is a very beautiful sight. The many beautiful homes of great men attracted the attention of most of us, for Niagara has many summer homes for summer tourists.
Again entraining, we cross to the U.S.A. and what do you think? The Red Cross was the first to greet us! They were awaiting us with their nice and much appreciated gifts.
Passing on through the suburbs of Buffalo, N.Y., just as the sun was sinking over the waters of the Lake, we again take a new road, the Lehigh Valley Route, through the Mohawk Valley. And of the beautiful mountain scenery we undoubtedly saw the greatest of it. All through the wonderful valley you could see great mines and thriving cities, populated with a patriotic people. I can never express the thrill that shot through my soul and mind as that great engine swayed to and fro through that valley. It was carrying us onward at 50 miles an hour, dodging in and out among the canyons and cuts that alone made it possible for us to pass.
As the train sped onward we were soon in the state of Pennsylvania, and as hours rolled by we were in New Jersey, and soon at Jersey City, where we detrained and took a boat for Long Island. After passing the Statue of Liberty and up the East River under Brooklyn Bridge our boat, the "Lakewood", anchored on the Long Island side. There we took train again late Sunday afternoon for one hour's ride, and just as the sun was sinking low in the west we arrived at our new home, Camp Mills, N.Y. It is a very beautiful camp, with many "big" sights, and among them some very daring aviators.
Well, I will quit. I have already asked for too much space and have detained the readers too long. But let me add just this; We have the most patriotic people in the world, for we saw them on this trip. Never did I see such cheering, waving and greetings as we received in every city, both in the United States and in Canada. I have not given the trip justice, because I have not the words to express the rapture and grandeur of it. I have not tried to tell the trip in detail, for it would take a whole volume.
HURRAH for the RED CROSS and its work.
A Boy of Company "G."
(Now Battery C. 142nd F.A.)
NOTES: This letter was written by an unidentified group of Faulkner County soldiers.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
Camp Mills, N.Y.
August 25, 1918.
Dear Editor and Friends:
I shall now try to give a short narrative of our trip from Camp Beauregard, La., to our present camp on Long Island, N.Y.
We were ready, we thought, on August 10 for our trip to port of embarkation, and were anxious for the call that would start us on our journey--that we knew would carry us far away. But the expected call did not come until the morning of August 14. About 8:30 a.m. the order came for 113 men from our battery to entrain within thirty minutes, and they were ready, for most of us had slept in our clothes, with packs rolled the night before, as we were expecting to be called any moment. Our 113 men left camp at 9 a. m., and the remainder of the men left at 11 a.m.
Now we are off--from Camp Beauregard to we knew not where, and cared less. Just so we were going--that was what we wanted!
After six or eight hours we arrived in the city of Shreveport, La., beautifully situated in the northern part of Louisiana. After staying in the yards there more than an hour we were again sailing for dear old Arkansas. Soon we are back in our native state, but dark comes on and we are ordered to retire at 9 p.m.
As the sun arose on the morning of the 15th it found us far past Pine Bluff and on the road for Jonesboro. In that pleasant little city we met a very warm reception. The people with their hospitality were awaiting us, and there we received some of the benefits of the great Red Cross; but as our journey had not been accomplished yet, we are soon on the train again headed straight for Missouri. As the moaning engine carries us along the Cotton Belt, we are soon in Missouri, but for a short stay only, for just as the sun was sinking low we crossed the Father of Waters into Illinois, thence up the mighty Mississippi to East St. Louis, arriving there at 2:30 a.m. August 16. Daylight found us on another road, the celebrated Wabash--and for speed we jumped from 20 to 40 miles per hour.
In Illinois we saw some real farming country. The most beautiful farms of all the Northern States lie in Illinois near Decatur. I thought before then I knew what a farm was, but I did not. I had never seen a sure-enough farm until we reached the corn belt of Illinois. Passing on through Illinois into Indiana, then to Michigan, as luck would have it we got to pass through the city of Detroit and crossed the river into Canada at 8:30 a.m. We crossed the river on a large ferry which took train and all at one load. We did not even leave our beds, and many of the boys did not even awake from their pleasant sleep in the Pullmans.
Now we are out of the United States and in the Dominion of Canada. There we ride for sixteen hours through the provinces and at 4 p.m. we arrive at the beautiful city of Niagara Falls, on the Canadian side. There we detrain, visit the Falls, which is a very beautiful sight. The many beautiful homes of great men attracted the attention of most of us, for Niagara has many summer homes for summer tourists.
Again entraining, we cross to the U.S.A. and what do you think? The Red Cross was the first to greet us! They were awaiting us with their nice and much appreciated gifts.
Passing on through the suburbs of Buffalo, N.Y., just as the sun was sinking over the waters of the Lake, we again take a new road, the Lehigh Valley Route, through the Mohawk Valley. And of the beautiful mountain scenery we undoubtedly saw the greatest of it. All through the wonderful valley you could see great mines and thriving cities, populated with a patriotic people. I can never express the thrill that shot through my soul and mind as that great engine swayed to and fro through that valley. It was carrying us onward at 50 miles an hour, dodging in and out among the canyons and cuts that alone made it possible for us to pass.
As the train sped onward we were soon in the state of Pennsylvania, and as hours rolled by we were in New Jersey, and soon at Jersey City, where we detrained and took a boat for Long Island. After passing the Statue of Liberty and up the East River under Brooklyn Bridge our boat, the "Lakewood", anchored on the Long Island side. There we took train again late Sunday afternoon for one hour's ride, and just as the sun was sinking low in the west we arrived at our new home, Camp Mills, N.Y. It is a very beautiful camp, with many "big" sights, and among them some very daring aviators.
Well, I will quit. I have already asked for too much space and have detained the readers too long. But let me add just this; We have the most patriotic people in the world, for we saw them on this trip. Never did I see such cheering, waving and greetings as we received in every city, both in the United States and in Canada. I have not given the trip justice, because I have not the words to express the rapture and grandeur of it. I have not tried to tell the trip in detail, for it would take a whole volume.
HURRAH for the RED CROSS and its work.
A Boy of Company "G."
(Now Battery C. 142nd F.A.)
NOTES: This letter was written by an unidentified group of Faulkner County soldiers.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD