Letter to His Sister
December 25, 1918
Will today write you a few lines to let you hear from me. I am well and enjoying the best of life and I hope these few words will find you all well and having the best of a time.
I am sure you all had a nice Christmas. I enjoyed myself fine for we had a fine dinner of turkey and all kinds of fruits and a bottle of champagne whiskey on each table. Believe me that was worth while.
There are snow covered mountains on each side of me and this is a nice town where we are spending Christmas and the scenery is beautiful. I am on a seven day leave here and when I leave here I hope to start for the states. I am anxious to go back to that old home which I left in May, and I know how to appreciate a home.
James H. Moore went out for a short walk this afternoon and took a view of the lake and some nice view it was, too, with two mountains and the lake between. One of the mountains is called the “Cat’s Tooth,” and the peak on top is 4,000 feet, it being the highest mountain in France. Three nations join in a few miles of here and form the top of the Cat’s Tooth all three can be seen.
Tell Floyd that I am enjoying myself with the girls over here and get all the beer I can drink. I have not had much chance to write as I have been hiking up to this time. I am nearly tickled to death to sleep in a good nice bed and get up when I get good and ready and eat any time I please. The government is furnishing the soldiers over here a 7 day relief and a good place to sleep. It is one of the best things ever happened to a soldier in France.
I will close in hopes of seeing you all soon, so by by for a short while.
Joseph W. Bridgers
324 Inf. Co. I
A.E.F., A.P.O. 791
Letter to His Wife
Long Island, N.Y.
March 7, 1919
Will write you to let you know that I am safe and sound in the good old U.S.A. and more, I am in the finest of health. I sent you a telegram and card yesterday. I am now in Camp Mills, but have got to go to Camp Wadsworth, S.C., to be demobilized. I think I will be home by April. I don’t know how long I will be here, not long I hope, althought it is a nice camp.
New York gave us a hearty welcome yesterday when we arrived. I received a letter form you while on board the ship. We came on the largest ship on the Atlantic, named the ‘Leviathan.’ The 27th division is the New York division, and they met us 25 miles out at sea with 12 boats and cheered all the way back to dock.
I have just weighed and weigh 161 pounds. If there is anything serious at home you want me to know, you might wire me at Camp Mills, the Wadsworth attachment. I would not advise you to write me while here for they say we will not be here long.
I am writing on this paper because my little wife sent it to me. I will write you as much as twice each week if not more while I am in camp. Enclosed is a copy of a paper printed on the mid ocean on the largest ship in the world, of which I was a passenger.
Will write again soon,
C. Frank Jordan
Sent in by his wife, Mrs. Ruby Pearl Jordan
Poem From Pvt. Glaucus Lewis
Only A Line From You
I’m lonesome and I’m homesick,
And I’m feeling mighty blue,
‘Cause it’s been a whole long year now
Since I got a line from you.
I’ve written and I’ve written,
I’ve made the censor stew,
Still I’m lonesome and I’m homesick
‘Cause I ain’t got word from you.
I don’t know just what’s the matter
I don’t know just what to do,
To get the mail main in the way,
To bring a line from you;
It does no good to stew,
‘Cause it ain’t the poor old mail man’s fault,
I don’t get a line from you.
It may be he is a “Captain,”
Or maybe he’s just a “Lieu,”
I wonder if that’s the reason
I don’t get a line from you.
I know I’m but a private
And a darned poor private, too,
But I’m as anxious as anybody
To get a line from you.
My pleasures are mighty skimpy,
My joys are might few,
When days and weeks go slowly by,
And I don’t hear from you.
So why keep me feeling lonesome
Why keep me feeling blue?
When you know the thing that will cheer me up,
Is only a line from you.
By Glaucus W. Lewis
Pvt., Co. A 168 Inf, Rainbow Division, A.P.O. 705, France