J.W. Keyes, Trainmaster, Hears From Son in France, 1918

From the Daily Times, Wilson, N.C., September 20, 1918

Captain J.W. Keyes, trainmaster, Norfolk and Southern, received an interesting letter from his son in France.

France, August 9, 1918

Dear Mother, Father and All:

At last I have reached a point at which I have been assigned to duty. We arrived here last night after travelling two days and two nights on the railroad, from the port at which we landed in France. It was certainly a tiresome trip, and we had only corned beef and hard tack to eat. But not that it is over, we can look back on the trip as another adventure in our trip overseas. The place at which I am located is very pretty, the architecture being very quaint and the streets winding in and out in all directions. There are a number of U.S. Troops located here and the town has become quite Americanized. Up to this time I cannot say how the work will be, but I believe it is going to be very agreeable. There are a number of Field Clerks here and we should get along very well.

We landed in an English port on August 1^st and after eight days of intermittent traveling through England and France we were quite worn out and you can believe me that I slept very well last night. The country through which we passed was beautiful, very rich in cultivations and pleasing in scenery. The farms appear to be cultivated with a view to scenery and beauty; remuneration apparently being a secondary consideration. But it appears that the farmers will be well repaid this year, as it seems they have a bumper crop. The land is cultivated in a variety of crops, each plot being about 200 feet wide by about 1,000 feet long. When the wheat has turned golden—which it now has—and adjoining it is a green crop, which in turn is adjoined by a crop of red clover, you can readily understand the beauty of the landscape, especially when the land is rolling. As we passed along we could look over to the low lying hills and see the farms in their varied cultivation and at the foot of the hills a small stream of water, and in the background dense forests.

Apparently the people over here are unmindful of the war. They seem to take it as a matter of course and assume the burden without complaint. They are however, right behind the government and are backing up the men at the front with determination. The opinion of the French, however, is that the war will be over by July of next year, and this opinion is shared by all the men with whom I have talked. From the success of the Allies during the past two weeks it seems that his optimistic view is based on sound principles and that we will be home sooner than we expected.

In order to relieve your mind I want to tell you that I am located at a post situated outside of the fighting zone. I will admit that I am somewhat disappointed in not being assigned to some post nearer the front as I had looked forward eagerly to such an assignment, but I guess it is for the best and I am compensated by the relief it will afford you. There is no danger from this point, but the work I was doing in the revenue office was just as essential as that I am doing here, but I am not complaining and am satisfied, and when I get on to the work, I believe I will e very well contented. There is an immense amount of work to be done and I can work long hours to pass away the time.

And the meals—they are wonderful. The field clerks have a mess of their own which is supervised by the cook hired by the Secretary of the Mess Hall. The cost is about 150 francs per month, or about $30. We live in barracks and have a bed, mattress and three blankets. Altogether I am suffering none of the hardships of war except being deprived of home. And of course that is nothing compared with the suffering and deprivation and strife of the men in battle. You may rest easy in knowing that I am faring every so much better than I was while at camp in New Jersey.

Last night I was down at the Y.M.C.A. and there was a military band concert. The music was a good as any I have ever heard and reminded me of Victor Herbert’s. You can nearly understand therefore that there are numbers of things for which I can be thankful. The war has been good to me and I could never complain. I will be lonesome of course but when I remember that I cam e over here to stay three years and am advised that I will be back home in one year, I can look forward happily.

While I was in England I met Pope (?) Denmark of Raleigh. I also met him after I landed in France, and at the first place we stopped in France I met Seth Baughn of Washington and one of the Checks of Raleigh. I expect to meet more of the fellows I know later on.

How are all of you? I dreamed that Mother was sick and the dream was very vivid—far too vivid—and it is the only time in my life I have ever had a dream to stick in my mind. Pease write me immediately on receipt of this letter and let me know how you are.

I am sending a copy of this letter to Anna and Grandma and Uncle Tom. I hope you have sent me Pa White’s address so I can write to him. I do not know aunt Margaret’s or aunt Ded’s address. Let me know them.

Address me, Army Field Clerk, Army Post Office 706, Personnel Bureau, American Expeditionary Force, France.

With love, Will