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Dear Mother:
This is a beautiful Sunday afternoon and the first one we have had to
ourselves for a long time. We have been moving right along and like you
said of Bert Hill's letter it is noisy. One continuous performance. We are
all looking forward to a glorious fourth of July. Not entirely safe and
sane, however. Of all the letters I've received since I left home yours
are always the best. Every time I read one I can see you sitting at the
bookcase desk just as I used to watch you when you were writing to
Florence. Well, Mother dear, we are just about up to the place where
things are doing and still getting more "pep" every day. I've received
letters on every mail day and it is the greatest help yet. A letter is
worth something over here. It is a fine section of France we are in now.
This afternoon another fellow and I are going to see through a big estate
near here. We had a glimpse of the grounds around it this A.M. and are
going to find the house. I have my eyes open for all I can see and if a
thing looks good I investigate further. Talk about farms and estates! The
only trouble with these fine places is that they are all surrounded by
walls. Usually a ten foot wall, then about ten more foot of hedge on top
of the wall. Sometimes a row of horse chestnut trees back of all this.
About all the common folks could do in times before the war was to peep
thru the iron gates. Not so not so now however, they are all open and
soldiers billeted right on the lawns & beneath the trees. Another thing of
interest here is the churches. I was in one the other night that was built
in eleven hundred and fifty five. They are all Catholic churches of
course, and the trimmings and statues are wonderful. I was on a mission to
the "city of cities" (Paris) and spent two days looking around. You will
have to wait to hear about that trip. It was wonderful! Hope I get another
chance to see more of it. Oh! You can bet I'm getting around. We have it
softer now than when we were with the British. We don't see any of them
now. All French soldiers. One day not long ago, while we were hiking we
marched past miles of blue clad Frenchmen. You can't imagine the sight it
made. I was front of the connecting file and was seated high on a hill. My
thoughts were many as I watched those two columns pass each other. One in kiaki and the other in gray blue. I never was anything but a dreamer
anyway, you know. We are eating good grub now and have picked up the YMCA
canteen. This keeps us in smokes and chocolate. Also jam and cakes every
so often. The Other night we had a band concert and boxing and wrestling
matches. The Y.M.C.A. man cleaned up on our champion wrestler. Best two
out of three, the bouts lasting eleven and sixteen minutes. Can't begin to
tell you all the things we see. Everything is going all the time. By road,
by water, and in the air. Airplanes here are so common we never bother to
look up except when something very unusual is going on. We are going to
church in a short while. There is a prince of a fellow along as chaplain.
We ran out of cigarettes the other day and he rode about five miles on his
bicycle and came back with three hundred or more packs. Can you beat that
for a preacher's thoughtfulness. Maybe you think that didn't put him in
right, too. All the ministers and others will be forced to change to be
more like these fellows in this work if they want to keep hold on this
bunch when they come back. The Catholic fellows can go to church any place
here and usually they read an announcement that such and such priest will
hold services that eve. and that settles it for them. They go! I've been
going now and then with a fellow by the name of Malone (guess his
nationality). I am enclosing six pictures of myself standing "at ease".
About the only chance we get of standing that way is in a picture. I wish
you would tell Grace to mail them out in the following manner. The two
that I've marked "Wop"
[nickname for Walter] to Ethel Shelar** and Lorelle Welsh, (you don't know
her, I don't think.) She is the one dad used to here (sic) Newman kidding
me about. Her address is 3rd Ave., Scottdale, Pa. The other four go to
Aunt Annie and Lib, Uncle Will and Florence. I had these taken at Upton
and they came along with your letter the other day. Spring can make one
over for you I suppose if you want it larger than they are. When you send
them out (put them in envelopes) keep the two that are marked “Wop”
ignorant as to the other receiving them. I'm somewhat like that guy Grace
read about in the Post one night. Remember that poem? Well, I promised
both of them one and am a man of my word. Tell dad to tell Earl Gilbert
and Overholt when he sees them that I'll write to both of them if I ever
get time. Also, you can tell Uncle Will the same thing when you write.
Hump and Fritz Keller and I met up for a while the other night. Hump had a
fine letter from Annie and Clara. Mothers, sisters & fathers are nearer
now to the soldiers than they ever were before the uniform was put on.
Tell Florence to write as often as she can & thank Kate Booker and Sallie
Monroe for the way they have been taking care of our letters. Ruth told us
of their kindness. Tell dad to remember both Hump and I to our mutual
friend Barney Fretts. He can tell Newman and "Ron" Gilchrist that I'll be
down to meet them when they come over. Remember me to Mr. Slaughter
because I think a lot of that old boy. Only wish I had his power of self-control and amiability. Tell him I am seeing all the places and things we
used to talk about on "dead man's turn". I am still pleased with my work altho it means lots of study. We are taking up airplane photography now
and are promised a ride soon as an observer. I'm for that! I'm not sorry
in the least that I enlisted because these sights can only be seen once.
Some of them are thrilling, some make your blood boil and some fill you
with a great compassion. Thus time goes on and each day brings us nearer
to each other again. I know you will all keep writing so I’ll close by
sending you and everyone my best love.
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