Somewhere on the Border, Texas 9/6/1916

Dear Em,

 

Here we are again on out post. It is pretty cool today. The mornings here are fine. I am fine. We are eating pretty good now. Did you all get my card with the poem on it? Isnt this some card? I am glad Madge is better. But say Em did you receive that envelope with the check in it yet? It is about time it got there, for I sent it the first of last week. I am only sending this any way to let you know Im not sick.

 

Sam

 

© Copyright 2008 by Richard Landers, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

The Day of the Soldier Boy, 1916

 

THE DAY OF THE SOLDIER BOY

 

WHEN it’s morning on the border, and the sun is breaking through,

And the sands begin to glisten like the good old home town dew,

I look across the river, and it makes me kind of blue,

When it’s morning on the border, Love, my thoughts go back to you.

 

WHEN the sun is in the heavens and the air is mighty hot,

And its hard to breathe and stifling, and my throat is dry as rot,

I’ve got to grin and bear it, I’ve got to see it through,

To make the burden lighter, Love, my thoughts go back to you.

 

WHEN the sun has passed the border, and the after-glow is red,

And the silver moon is shining on the silent desert bed,

I’m feeling kind of lonely like, I know you’re lonely too,

When the sun has passed the border, Love, my thoughts go back to you.

 

WHEN the greaser stops his sniping and skulking in the sand,

When the raider hies himself away beyond the Rio Grande,

And the “spick” doffs his sombrero to the old red, white and blue,

And its calm along the border, Love,  THEN I’LL COME BACK TO YOU.

 

 Segt. Wm. H. Barter, 5th Mass. Infy. El Paso – On the Border

 

(Editor’s Note: See Postal from Camp Cotton, Texas 9/5/1916)

 

Camp Cotton, Texas 9/5/1916

 

Dear Em,

 

It is Sunday and all is well along the Rio. Tomorrow is Labor Day and another day off.

 

Sam

 

 

Dear Mary,

 

I got your Mother Hubbard and the boys and I are much pleased with it. It is hanging in my (soldier house) all the time and I have all the boys kiss it every time they come in. Im not going to put any kisses on this card for it isnt big enough for the one Id give you.

 

Sam

 

Poem printed on the front of  both postcards:

THE DAY OF THE SOLDIER BOY

 

WHEN it’s morning on the border, and the sun is breaking through,

And the sands begin to glisten like the good old home town dew,

I look across the river, and it makes me kind of blue,

When it’s morning on the border, Love, my thoughts go back to you.

 

WHEN the sun is in the heavens and the air is mighty hot,

And its hard to breathe and stifling, and my throat is dry as rot,

I’ve got to grin and bear it, I’ve got to see it through,

To make the burden lighter, Love, my thoughts go back to you.

 

WHEN the sun has passed the border, and the after-glow is red,

And the silver moon is shining on the silent desert bed,

I’m feeling kind of lonely like, I know you’re lonely too,

When the sun has passed the border, Love, my thoughts go back to you.

 

WHEN the greaser stops his sniping and skulking in the sand,

When the raider hies himself away beyond the Rio Grande,

And the “spick” doffs his sombrero to the old red, white and blue,

And its calm along the border, Love,  THEN I’LL COME BACK TO YOU.

 

Segt. Wm. H. Barter, 5th Mass. Infy. El Paso – On the Border

(Copyright Applied For)

 

Dear Em,

 

On account of our camp being on gaurd yesterday and last night, we do not drill today but company M. & K. are elected to assemble the new arm wagons that have just arrived. We had a beautiful sun rise this morning, for we were up be for sun up. I think it is going to be pretty warm today. It is 6.45 now.

 

By what they say now, we are to start home some where around the 21st of Sept., stay at Framingham until the 12th of Oct. and parade in Boston on that date. All bull I suppose. Say did you get that letter yet? There is a little stumack trouble here in camp but that will soon pass. I am fine.

 

Sam

 

© Copyright 2008 by Richard Landers, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

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