From a Soldier Boy
A letter from Mr. C.L. Beland to his parents, Mr. and Mrs.
J.C. Beland:
Somewhere in France
September 26
Dear Mother and All:
Will try to write you all a few lines to let you know I am
still existing. I am getting along all right I guess, feeling pretty good all
the time, hope you are all enjoying good health.
Well, I am a long ways from the fire line now, don’t know
when I will get any nearer, can’t even hear the big guns firing.
We are in a little town in which there never has been any
U.S. soldiers before. Gee, we have a time trying to talk to these people but we
can make them understand what we are talking about after a while.
We stay in all vacant buildings. There is no camp here at
all. This is certainly a pretty country, what I have seen of it. It looks right
much like England, only the buildings are quite different.
We certainly have had some trip coming here, have been
steady on the go for a good while, but think we will stay here for a little
while. I was sick about two days when we were on the ocean, but soon got o.k.
I don’t know how the war is going on now, as I can’t read
anything over here. You all at home know more every day about the war than we
do.
I guess I will have to stop smoking cigarettes as I have
just run out and the people here have not seen one for six months until the
U.S. soldiers came in, so we can’t buy anything at all to smoke. Can get plenty
of wine but I don’t like it, so that won’t bother me. It costs about 40 cents
in U.S. money (2 francs in French money) per quart.
Have you heard from Roy since he came over?
Has Johnny been drafted yet? Guess he has by now, though.
Well, since I started this letter I have been issued a
package of smoking tobacco, so I am fixed o.k. for smokes for a while.
Has Charley gotten any better yet or has he been sent home?
I did not have time to write him before I left Wadsworth. Guess he stopped
there to see me if he started home before he heard from you.
Tell papa I have seen some of the funniest looking little
trains. They look like toys beside the ones in the U.S. The engines in this
country are something like ours.
Well, mama, as this is the only piece of paper that I can
get now, guess that I had better close for this time, hoping that I have not
written anything that will not pass the censor, and you will get this letter
all right. When you write me address your envelopes with ink.
Your son,
C.L. Beland
Write me at this
address:
4th Corps
Artillery Park, Headquarters Motor Section, A.E.F.
-=-
A letter from Edward Hearne in France to his cousin
“Somewhere”
September 25
Dear Cousin:
“Somewhere in France” and I’ll say it is quite exciting, You
can’t imagine the thrills of No Man’s Land, and I only wish I could tell you a
few things. However, if I get back home, we’ll have a long, long chat, hey?
I still have that Kodak picture of you, Bessie and Mary.
Now you must excuse my writing as the hum of shells flying
overhead is not a very comfortable feeling, especially when you are not exactly
sure where they are going to fall and although “Fritz” may not know just where
I am sitting, he is a pretty good guesser. And he doesn’t mind wasting
ammunition to find out how many are sitting around either. He figures life’s a
chance and so he takes a chance at finding us.
France is a wonderful place. Flowers galore and her people
are wonderfully clever. They try to do everything in their power for our
comfort when we are near them. One place we were in when we first came over
they would treat us just like their own children. Sew our buttons on for us,
and wash our clothes, and if they thought we were hungry they would even do
without something to eat and give it to us. You see, bread is very scarce here.
Each person is allowed so much per day. They are issued bread (Du pain,
pronounced doo pai) tickets for a month’s supply of bread and no one can buy
any unless they have bread tickets. After they buy their share it amounts to
about two slices per day. Sweet things are luxuries. Wine is more than
plentiful. It is much easier to get a drink of wine (vin blanc—white wine)--
than it is to get a drink of water. Every family has a supply on hand. They
drink it for water at every meal. But it has no sugar in it. Resembles hard
cider. Sugar is 2 cents a teaspoonful (2c de sous, pronounced der sou). We get
so hard up for something sweet that we pay $2 a pound for cakes, such as lady
fingers and social tea, only they are not as good. A frying size chicken sells
for 12 francs or $2.40. Butter is 6 frances a pound ($1.20), cheese 4 francs or
80 cents a pound. Candies that sell three for five cents at home are 18 cents
each. So you see how thankful you all should be at home when you can walk in a
store and get good cakes for 15 cents a box and 20 cents a pound and good
homemade preserves. I paid 2 francs (40 cents) for three eggs, so you can see how
scarce chickens are. I mean chickens with feathers on them. There are young
chickens 18 and 20 years of age here by the thousands and it really is unsafe
to go out alone as they fight among each other to see which one is going to
offer you a drink of wine first.
“Fritz” has begun feeling around again so I guess I’ll close
while I have a chance to sign my name at the bottom.
This is a great life and I would not miss living in this age
for the world.
Write soon and a long letter. Love to all. Tell all to write.
Lots of love from
Your devoted cousin,
Ed
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