TRANSCRIBED FROM THE COURIER INDEX OCTOBER 11, 1918 P. 1
Central Machine Gun Officers’ Training School, Camp Hancock, Ga.,
September 22, 1918.
Mr. W. K. Johnston, Marianna, Ark.
Dear Mr. Johnston:
For many days I have been thinking I would answer your letter which I received just when I needed it most. It came to me in the hour of a soldier’s need of comfort. That’s about the time the sun is sinking and the golden hue which once to us was the light of joy, knowing that the day’s work was finished and we had something “on” for the evening. But now it’s different for me. At about the same time in the afternoon or the early evening I have such a different feeling. We boys, 40,000 of us, are formed in groups of battalions, and as the band plays softly the retreat, it means sacredness and solemnity for us all. To some it means only that the soldier’s day’s work is done, but to me, as the notes of the “Star Spangled Banner” are played, comes the picture of Cedar Heights cemetery where lies the bst friend I ever had (except my mother), then a memory of many things you said on the solemn occasion are recalled as well as how I was impressed by the feeling my good friend, Mr. Mitchener expressed, as the music from his trombone will impress me through my whole life, as often as I hear the old hymn played.
Now that I must hasten on, I’ll begin at the Marianna depot. I have a little kit bag, the contents of which I will say is next to brain when referring to usefulness. Wish I could see every Red Cross member there personally and tell them what they mean to me. Next you will go with me to Memphis where we were highly welcomed by the Red Cross ladies again, and don’t forget now that I didn’t forget to tell them of our leaving home and of the patriotism shown us as we grasp the many friendly hands good bye. We left Memphis on a special train. We learned that others were going our way, about three hundred of us. After riding all night and just as the sun was rising we passed Payne Field (aviation). The aviators were just starting out on what they call the appetite spin. All this was new to many of the boys, so that was the beginning of army life. We were only twenty miles from A. & M. College, Mississippi, then a few minutes later we saw our place of destination, and without breakfast we were held in quarantine from the time of arrival for two weeks.
A big hearted Mississippi solider boy brought me a sandwich and best I remember I had to drop it before I had eaten half of it. Next came the shots, which made many of the boys awfully sick. I must say the second one took me in.
Now to my work. I was assigned to the radio course and for six weeks worked harder than ever before in my life and on examination I qualified at nineteen words per minute on a three minute test, which is considered good. Twenty words is excellent. This grade is on receiving especially.
Now we boys had by this time be came as one large family. Only seven hundred of us so we all knew each other well. The hard part was leaving them. I found a real friend in a young man whose name is Joe Lawrence. He has a widowed mother whom he is trying to support. I think he is great. He has such high aspirations. He was sent to Newport News, Va.
Now I am one of ten boys who were chosen for this officers’ training school and I am very grateful to somebody, I can hardly say who, for the opportunity of advancement. However, I’m doing my best and if work means success I have hopes of it this time. Wyatt Newborn is here. I just found him yesterday. Gee, but we did shake hands. No, he didn’t kiss me, but oh, well, we talked fast and joyfully for some time.
I was very glad to see Earl Williams’ letter in the paper, also to notice the thrilling experiences of Samuel. I am hoping to sail before spring. I’ll finish my course January 18, 1918. I hope to see Marianna once more before I leave and then I want to see Berlin next.
Mr. Johnston, I am sure you would be surprised to see the interest shown here in the soldiers’ Sunday school and church work.
It certainly is interesting to see and hear the many voices singing as they go to and from the drill field.
Now that this volume seems to have no ending, I’ll just stop suddenly by asking you to write me as often as you can. Please remember me to friends there and if they wish to write to me give them my address and assure them that a few lines will be greatly appreciated. Give my best regards to Dave Shea.
Yours very truly,
CAMDEN WEBB
NOTES: Camden C. Webb was born in Quitman, Arkansas on March 1, 1892 and died in Jonesboro, Arkansas on August 2, 1969. He is buried in the Sylvania Cemetery in Sylvania, Arkansas Lonoke County.
TRANSCRIBED BY JULIETE FAITH ROBINSON
Central Machine Gun Officers’ Training School, Camp Hancock, Ga.,
September 22, 1918.
Mr. W. K. Johnston, Marianna, Ark.
Dear Mr. Johnston:
For many days I have been thinking I would answer your letter which I received just when I needed it most. It came to me in the hour of a soldier’s need of comfort. That’s about the time the sun is sinking and the golden hue which once to us was the light of joy, knowing that the day’s work was finished and we had something “on” for the evening. But now it’s different for me. At about the same time in the afternoon or the early evening I have such a different feeling. We boys, 40,000 of us, are formed in groups of battalions, and as the band plays softly the retreat, it means sacredness and solemnity for us all. To some it means only that the soldier’s day’s work is done, but to me, as the notes of the “Star Spangled Banner” are played, comes the picture of Cedar Heights cemetery where lies the bst friend I ever had (except my mother), then a memory of many things you said on the solemn occasion are recalled as well as how I was impressed by the feeling my good friend, Mr. Mitchener expressed, as the music from his trombone will impress me through my whole life, as often as I hear the old hymn played.
Now that I must hasten on, I’ll begin at the Marianna depot. I have a little kit bag, the contents of which I will say is next to brain when referring to usefulness. Wish I could see every Red Cross member there personally and tell them what they mean to me. Next you will go with me to Memphis where we were highly welcomed by the Red Cross ladies again, and don’t forget now that I didn’t forget to tell them of our leaving home and of the patriotism shown us as we grasp the many friendly hands good bye. We left Memphis on a special train. We learned that others were going our way, about three hundred of us. After riding all night and just as the sun was rising we passed Payne Field (aviation). The aviators were just starting out on what they call the appetite spin. All this was new to many of the boys, so that was the beginning of army life. We were only twenty miles from A. & M. College, Mississippi, then a few minutes later we saw our place of destination, and without breakfast we were held in quarantine from the time of arrival for two weeks.
A big hearted Mississippi solider boy brought me a sandwich and best I remember I had to drop it before I had eaten half of it. Next came the shots, which made many of the boys awfully sick. I must say the second one took me in.
Now to my work. I was assigned to the radio course and for six weeks worked harder than ever before in my life and on examination I qualified at nineteen words per minute on a three minute test, which is considered good. Twenty words is excellent. This grade is on receiving especially.
Now we boys had by this time be came as one large family. Only seven hundred of us so we all knew each other well. The hard part was leaving them. I found a real friend in a young man whose name is Joe Lawrence. He has a widowed mother whom he is trying to support. I think he is great. He has such high aspirations. He was sent to Newport News, Va.
Now I am one of ten boys who were chosen for this officers’ training school and I am very grateful to somebody, I can hardly say who, for the opportunity of advancement. However, I’m doing my best and if work means success I have hopes of it this time. Wyatt Newborn is here. I just found him yesterday. Gee, but we did shake hands. No, he didn’t kiss me, but oh, well, we talked fast and joyfully for some time.
I was very glad to see Earl Williams’ letter in the paper, also to notice the thrilling experiences of Samuel. I am hoping to sail before spring. I’ll finish my course January 18, 1918. I hope to see Marianna once more before I leave and then I want to see Berlin next.
Mr. Johnston, I am sure you would be surprised to see the interest shown here in the soldiers’ Sunday school and church work.
It certainly is interesting to see and hear the many voices singing as they go to and from the drill field.
Now that this volume seems to have no ending, I’ll just stop suddenly by asking you to write me as often as you can. Please remember me to friends there and if they wish to write to me give them my address and assure them that a few lines will be greatly appreciated. Give my best regards to Dave Shea.
Yours very truly,
CAMDEN WEBB
NOTES: Camden C. Webb was born in Quitman, Arkansas on March 1, 1892 and died in Jonesboro, Arkansas on August 2, 1969. He is buried in the Sylvania Cemetery in Sylvania, Arkansas Lonoke County.
TRANSCRIBED BY JULIETE FAITH ROBINSON