Letter From Son to
Dad
American soldiers are great fellows to start things. They
started a newspaper of their own in France. They started many other things,
including the drive to Berlin. They started the idea of a Father’s Day when
everybody should write a letter to his father. There have been Mother’s Days
and Children’s Days and various other days, but Fathers never had an inning
till now, and the 24th of November was set aside for writing to him
and telling something of the trip or the experience of war, with the result
that fathers all over the United States are watching the mail now for letters
with an almost as keen interest as they did in courtship days. After the letter
arrives, Dad reads part of it to his neighbor, and listens while the neighbor
tells what his son said to him. Here are samples of letters to Dad:
H. Fisher received the following letter from his son Oda
recently. The letter was written at a Red Cross hospital, where Oda is
convalescing.
American Red Cross,
Nov. 24, 1918
Dear Dad:
Will try and write you a few lines being as this is to be
your Christmas letter.
I am still at the hospital but getting better every day.
They say that we are going to be shipped back to the States from here, but I
don’t know when my time will come.
As the censor will not read this letter I am going to tell
you a few of my experiences while in France. When they transferred us out of
the old outfit I was transferred to the 42nd division, 167th
infantry. They were men from Alabama and a mighty good bunch too, altho there
aren’t very many of them left. About two weeks after I was assigned to them we
started for the front. We were the first division to hold a sector on the
front. We held it for 106 days and had a good time there because it was a quiet
sector and nothing but raids and night patrolling and I managed to get my share
of it all. I forgot to tell you that Herb Neider, King and France were
transferred to the division after we landed on the front. Guy Faulconer was in
it too. I don’t know where the rest of the boys are.
Well, from the Lorraine front we were sent to the Champagne
front. After several nights of hard hiking with heavy packs we averaged 25
miles a night for three nights in succession. When the Boche started their
drive on the 15th of July we were ready to hold them. We had been
living out in the open since July 4, digging trenches at night and getting what
sleep we could in the day time. At 12 o’clock on the night of the 14th
the Boche began to throw over one of the heaviest bombardments of the war. We
beat it to the trenches to get what protection we could. Some of the boys were
unlucky but they died cheerfully. It was our first experience under heavy fire
and believe me we sure held up fine. The Boche came over at 5 o’clock, but we
held them with the French Blue Devils at our side.
From the Champagne we were sent to Chateau Thierry. You have
probably read about how we pushed the famous Prussian guards 15 kilometers across
the Ourcq river capturing a number of towns. It was there we learned to live in
holes just large enough to crawl into. We went back of the lines and got a
six-day rest. Then we started again toward the front. On September 11 we
started the St. Miheil drive. It was raining when we went over the top and
there was a rainbow across the sky. As this is called the rainbow division it
cheered the boys up a whole lot. For two days we drove the Boche back making
our objective every day. It was on this drive that Guy Faulconer was killed. We
trenched then for about two weeks, then we were relieved and sent to the Verdun
front, where we helped to some more driving. We were in support of the front
line companies. As we were crossing an open field the Boche spied us and threw
a barrage right into our midst. Shells were falling everywhere. I very dear
chum of mine was killed within three feet of me and not a piece hit me. I sure
thanked God that day for saving me from those shells. Our company got shot up
badly that day; some were lost, others were killed and wounded.
After spending five days on the front we were sent back.
Here was where most of the men got sick from being in shell holes half full of
mud and water and nothing to eat and nothing to keep you warm but a wet rain
coat and it raining all the time. Who wouldn’t get sick? I stood it all while
we were at the front, but when we got back the reaction began to work on me.
Believe me I have been thru some misery since I came here,
but I am getting well fast now.
I have told you about all the news about myself. I hope this
finds you well. Get me a job helping you at the lumber yard and believe me I
will work when I get back, which I hope will be soon.
I am so weak I can hardly write. I will close now as it is
getting late. Answer soon and don’t forget the job.
With love to all,
Oda
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