TRANSCRIBED FROM THE BATESVILLE DAILY GUARD SEPTEMBER 12, 1917 PP. 1,3
Camp Funston, Sept. 8, 1917.
Editor Guard:
If you will permit me, I will write to everybody at home In one time, and try to tell a few things about the training camp here.
Early last Sunday morning a week ago we left San Antonio for the training camp, arriving about 10 o’clock. The country we crossed in coming from San Antonio here is about the most forsaken looking I have ever seen, and Leon Springs is a big fake, for it is about one-fifth the size of Moorefield with no sign of a spring. The training camp is something like four miles still further out into the desert-like country. Here there is no sign of human life, outside of the military camps, which are on all sides of the training camp. This is, therefore, an excellent place for any sort of target practice as there is nothing to hit but hills.
From a military standpoint the training camp is ideally situated. Headquarters is located on the top of a large flat hill. In front of the headquarters building is hoisted the stars and stripes. On further down the hill are the mess halls, twenty or thirty in number, which are arranged in a long row side by side, facing down the hill toward the barracks. Each mess hall has ten tables and ten men can very conveniently sit at one table.
Near the foot of the hill and facing up the hill toward the mess halls are the barracks. These barracks are long frame buildings about 150 feet in length. The barracks and mess halls form the camp street which is about one-half mile long. The barracks are all just alike and about the same things are to be found inside.
Along each side of these long rooms is a row of cots, enough for 100 men to sleep in one building. The foot of each cot is turned out toward the middle of the room leaving an aisle four or five feet wide. Each cot must be square with the wall and all must be in a straight line which is done by lining them all on the same crack in the floor on each side of the room. On both sides of the room is a shelf about three and one-half feet high extending the entire length of the room. Each man has about four feet on this shelf. Here are placed the rifle, toilet articles and books, each in a certain prescribed order. The books, for instance, must be immediately over the center of the cot with the largest on the bottom and the smallest at the top. These books must have the backs straight up and down with the edge of the shelf, and the right edges must be even. Under the shelf are hung the pack, belt and laundry bag.
That you may have some idea of the work we do—and they give us plenty of it, for some of the students who were in the first camp at Fort Logan H. Roots said that we did more in the first three days here than they did during the first two weeks there. I’ll tell you some of the things that are done during the day. At 5:45 we are awakened by loud blasts of bugles and the roll of drums. From that very instant everyone begins to stir for one must rush to get his clothes on in time to get in the line in the open space between the two barracks in which our battery stays.
After we are lined up we are given an appetizer of ten minutes vigorous exercise. We were then dismissed a few minutes before breakfast. Although it is for only a few minutes, yet in that time we must do a multitude of things, because we have inspection soon after breakfast. Some of the things we have to do are wash which, by the way, is sometimes omitted in order to do more important duties, fix our cots, fold our blankets so that the right edges are perfectly straight, arrange our books, sweep the floor under the cots, get the dust off everything, and do many other little things too numerous to mention. This work is soon done and every one is ready for the sergeant’s call to line up and go to breakfast. After breakfast we have a few minutes in which to put on the finishing touches before inspection.
Inspection is a very momentous occasion, for if everything is not just exactly right we get a “skin,” and one “skin” keeps a man from going out of the camp on Saturday or Sunday. However, that is not the reason I did not go to San Antonio this afternoon. After inspection the real work of the day begins.
The day’s work is somewhat different in the artillery from what it is in the infantry. The infantry hike and maneuvers from 7 till noon with a rest period of about 15 minutes. In the afternoon from 1 till 4 or 4:30 there are drills of different kinds. In the artillery we have during the morning 20 minutes of physical exercise, two hours of drill, and about two hours of lecture. Late week in the afternoons we marched a mile or two out to a regular army battery, where we had gun drill and studied the care of stables and horses, getting back to camp about 4 or 4:30. We are then dismissed till supper, which is a little after 6. It may seem that we have quite a while to ourselves, but this is not the case, for during this time many things have to be done to be ready for another inspection immediately after retreat, such as shining shoes, shaving, and cleaning rifles.
A fellow can’t keep from having a curious feeling when a sour looking army officer steps up in front of him and jerks his rifle out of his hands with enough force to jerk his head off if he does not turn loose at the proper instant. Then said officer marches up one side of the line and down the other, looking a fellow over from the crown of his hat to the soles of his shoes. While on the subject of retreat and inspection, I’ll tell you what an exciting time we had this afternoon. We received an injection of paratyphoid. While we were standing in line waiting for the bugle to sound retreat I heard a gun drop up the line some twenty paces. I looked around just in time to see a man follow the example of his rifle. About the time a few of his comrades had this man safely on his cot three or four other men dropped in different parts of the line, and by the time inspection was over seven or eight men were out of business. In the midst of this excitement I could scarcely persuade myself that I, too, was not getting dizzy.
I hope you will take into consideration the fact that I had to “fall out” and “fall in” at least half a dozen times while writing this letter.
G. M. Ward
NOTES: This letter was written by Guy Marmaduke Ward. He was born in Charlotte, Arkansas on April 1, 1888 and died on March 5, 1968. He is buried in the Oaklawn Cemetery in Batesville, Arkansas. On his draft registration he identified himself as a teacher.
TRANSCRIBED BY MIKE POLSTON
Camp Funston, Sept. 8, 1917.
Editor Guard:
If you will permit me, I will write to everybody at home In one time, and try to tell a few things about the training camp here.
Early last Sunday morning a week ago we left San Antonio for the training camp, arriving about 10 o’clock. The country we crossed in coming from San Antonio here is about the most forsaken looking I have ever seen, and Leon Springs is a big fake, for it is about one-fifth the size of Moorefield with no sign of a spring. The training camp is something like four miles still further out into the desert-like country. Here there is no sign of human life, outside of the military camps, which are on all sides of the training camp. This is, therefore, an excellent place for any sort of target practice as there is nothing to hit but hills.
From a military standpoint the training camp is ideally situated. Headquarters is located on the top of a large flat hill. In front of the headquarters building is hoisted the stars and stripes. On further down the hill are the mess halls, twenty or thirty in number, which are arranged in a long row side by side, facing down the hill toward the barracks. Each mess hall has ten tables and ten men can very conveniently sit at one table.
Near the foot of the hill and facing up the hill toward the mess halls are the barracks. These barracks are long frame buildings about 150 feet in length. The barracks and mess halls form the camp street which is about one-half mile long. The barracks are all just alike and about the same things are to be found inside.
Along each side of these long rooms is a row of cots, enough for 100 men to sleep in one building. The foot of each cot is turned out toward the middle of the room leaving an aisle four or five feet wide. Each cot must be square with the wall and all must be in a straight line which is done by lining them all on the same crack in the floor on each side of the room. On both sides of the room is a shelf about three and one-half feet high extending the entire length of the room. Each man has about four feet on this shelf. Here are placed the rifle, toilet articles and books, each in a certain prescribed order. The books, for instance, must be immediately over the center of the cot with the largest on the bottom and the smallest at the top. These books must have the backs straight up and down with the edge of the shelf, and the right edges must be even. Under the shelf are hung the pack, belt and laundry bag.
That you may have some idea of the work we do—and they give us plenty of it, for some of the students who were in the first camp at Fort Logan H. Roots said that we did more in the first three days here than they did during the first two weeks there. I’ll tell you some of the things that are done during the day. At 5:45 we are awakened by loud blasts of bugles and the roll of drums. From that very instant everyone begins to stir for one must rush to get his clothes on in time to get in the line in the open space between the two barracks in which our battery stays.
After we are lined up we are given an appetizer of ten minutes vigorous exercise. We were then dismissed a few minutes before breakfast. Although it is for only a few minutes, yet in that time we must do a multitude of things, because we have inspection soon after breakfast. Some of the things we have to do are wash which, by the way, is sometimes omitted in order to do more important duties, fix our cots, fold our blankets so that the right edges are perfectly straight, arrange our books, sweep the floor under the cots, get the dust off everything, and do many other little things too numerous to mention. This work is soon done and every one is ready for the sergeant’s call to line up and go to breakfast. After breakfast we have a few minutes in which to put on the finishing touches before inspection.
Inspection is a very momentous occasion, for if everything is not just exactly right we get a “skin,” and one “skin” keeps a man from going out of the camp on Saturday or Sunday. However, that is not the reason I did not go to San Antonio this afternoon. After inspection the real work of the day begins.
The day’s work is somewhat different in the artillery from what it is in the infantry. The infantry hike and maneuvers from 7 till noon with a rest period of about 15 minutes. In the afternoon from 1 till 4 or 4:30 there are drills of different kinds. In the artillery we have during the morning 20 minutes of physical exercise, two hours of drill, and about two hours of lecture. Late week in the afternoons we marched a mile or two out to a regular army battery, where we had gun drill and studied the care of stables and horses, getting back to camp about 4 or 4:30. We are then dismissed till supper, which is a little after 6. It may seem that we have quite a while to ourselves, but this is not the case, for during this time many things have to be done to be ready for another inspection immediately after retreat, such as shining shoes, shaving, and cleaning rifles.
A fellow can’t keep from having a curious feeling when a sour looking army officer steps up in front of him and jerks his rifle out of his hands with enough force to jerk his head off if he does not turn loose at the proper instant. Then said officer marches up one side of the line and down the other, looking a fellow over from the crown of his hat to the soles of his shoes. While on the subject of retreat and inspection, I’ll tell you what an exciting time we had this afternoon. We received an injection of paratyphoid. While we were standing in line waiting for the bugle to sound retreat I heard a gun drop up the line some twenty paces. I looked around just in time to see a man follow the example of his rifle. About the time a few of his comrades had this man safely on his cot three or four other men dropped in different parts of the line, and by the time inspection was over seven or eight men were out of business. In the midst of this excitement I could scarcely persuade myself that I, too, was not getting dizzy.
I hope you will take into consideration the fact that I had to “fall out” and “fall in” at least half a dozen times while writing this letter.
G. M. Ward
NOTES: This letter was written by Guy Marmaduke Ward. He was born in Charlotte, Arkansas on April 1, 1888 and died on March 5, 1968. He is buried in the Oaklawn Cemetery in Batesville, Arkansas. On his draft registration he identified himself as a teacher.
TRANSCRIBED BY MIKE POLSTON