Camp Stewart, Virginia 5/13/1918

Co A

May 13^th 1918

Dear Sister Madaline:

Sorry to see you and John leave me so soon but I suppose it was for the best.  We drilled all day today in the dust and wind and hardly enjoyed ourselves as you saw how the wind and dust flies about hear.  I had to stop writing for a few minutes as we had our over seas examination.  I think I passed aces up.  They are issuing passes to town tonight but I don’t think that I will go down tonight as I have quite some washing and writing to do before going abroad the transport.

Something funny happened today I went to the base hospital last night and I saw the doctors operating on two young fellows one for appendicites and the other fellow for broken ribs.  I had a fellow friend that is attached to the base.  It was through him that I went their to see it.  It sure was a sad case but from what the doctor told me the boys never felt it while during the operation and after.  I wrote a letter to Father Himmelreicher last night.

Must close now dear sister.  Will write you again tomorrow.

Your Brother

Joe

Your visit made a new man of me.  Am feeling fine.

Joe

© Copyright 2011 by Lanny & Patti Brown, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

From John, Jamaica N.Y. 5/9/1918

John J. O'Farrell, Joe's brother-in-law

Jeffry Ave, Jamaica, N.Y.

9 May 1918

Dear Joe:

From your latest letter I know that you will soon be on your way to fight the battle of right for humanity and the good old U.S.A. and I wish to God that I was with you, but my home ties and responsibility to my family prevent it, but later on if I am called I will be there to do my duty in the way that every true American should.  But, dear boy, keep the light of faith in your heart at all times and you will be a credit to yourself and family and the country that gave you birth.  Our heart and mind will be with you always and our prayers for your safety and good health will not go unanswered I feel sure.

When the time come to show what stuff your are made of, I am positive that the Bosches will see a genuine sample of American pluck and determination who will never flinch in the face of danger.  Keep before your eyes the figures of the poor defenseless, half starved women and children of war ridden Belgium, who were desecrated so inhumanly by a lot of cowardly beasts, not worthy of the name men.  Think of what that bunch of yellow curs would do to your sisters and their children if they were successful in ever reaching our shores.

Remember your God and your church and receive the sacraments as often as possible, whenever the opportunity affords, for you know that a good Catholic with the love of God in his heart will be guided through danger by the mystic hand of Jesus and his blessed mother Mary.

I am exceedingly busy at the present time, mainly on account of increased movement of troops and can’t get away for any length of time or otherwise I would make the trip to Norfolk to see you before you go over the top, but because we can’t make the trip, Joe, don’t think that we are neglectful of you.  We all appreciate the seriousness of the situation and our every thought is of you, but please keep in mind that if we were to make the trip maybe the parting would be harder to bear and we want our son to go into the conflict with head erect and unmindful of other things.

If there is anything you may want don’t hesitate to ask and we will send it to you.

I will close now, dear brother, with my heartfelt wishes for your safety and good conduct I the face of battle and in the hope that your name will be among those decorated for devotion to duty and patriotic service.  May God bless you always, affectionately,

John

© Copyright 2011 by Lanny & Patti Brown, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

Camp Stewart, Virginia 5/4/1918

DEAR SISTER.  EXPECT TO LEAVE SHORTLY COULDN’T PA AND JOHN OR SOME ONE COME DOWN AND SEE ME WOULD LIKE TO SEE PA IN FACT ALL  BEFORE LEAVING TRY AND ARRANGE TO HAVE THEM REACH CAMP HEAR EARLY SUNDAY  NOTIFY ME BY TELEGRAM  FEELING FINE.

BROTHER JOE.

1035 AM

© Copyright 2011 by Lanny & Patti Brown, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

Camp Stewart, Virginia 5/4/1918

Co A

May 4^th 1918

Dear Sister Madaline:

Left Spartanburg and arrived Newport News last night very much to my delight but sorry to think that I will not see you all before going “Over their”.  We have not received any pay as yet and think we will leave shortly without money thierfore I and going to ask for money through telegram.  That is I am going to telegram now so that when you receive this letter my telegram will have reached you before this letter.  My letter is going to be different than others as I think the censor will inspect all letters, but any way I am going to say what I think even though the censor does camaflodge some words of information.

Dear sister we are going through a hard thing when we leave this country to fight over their for freedom for this generation and the coming and this might be my last good letter that I cam write you but always remember and feel as I do that your only brother is coming back safe and is going away with high spirits.  Please notify all my folks at Astoria and friends that my stay is short and do not expect to see New York again until our point is reached.

Now dear sister when we board the ship their will be no letters going out but I am going to send you a post card with stamp placed in this manner so that you can know we are one day nearer our only delight and that is to fight the Hun no matter what kind of fighting game he puts up.  I think the 27^th division will show them up.  Must close now with millions of love and kisses to you all.

Your Brother

Joe

PS:  Love to pa and cheer him up.  Tell Bob that I will soon be home safe.  My address is

105 U.S. Inf Co A

Camp Stewart

Newport News Virginia

© Copyright 2011 by Lanny & Patti Brown, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

The YD Cemetery

Temporary American Cemetery, France 1918

 

The peasant children pass it as they leave the village school,

The pious strangers cross themselves along the road to Toul,

The captains call attention as the dusty troops plod by,

The officers salute it though receiving no reply;

‘Tis a spot all brown and barren ‘mid the poppies in the grain—

The Y-D cemetery by a roadside in Lorraine.

 

A row of wooden crosses and beneath the upturned sod

The hearts once wild and restless now know the peace of God.

The brave young lads who left us while life was at its flood,

While life was fresh and joyous and fire was in the blood,

Their young lives now enfranchised from mirth or joy or pain,

They sleep the sleep eternal by a roadside in Lorraine.

 

Of all the myriad places for the dead of man to rest,

The graveyard of the warrior for a freeman is the best;

Oh! Not for them our pity, but far across the foam

For the gray-haired mother weeping in some New England home,

‘Tis she who has our pity, ‘tis she who feels the pain

Of  the Y-D cemetery by a roadside in Lorraine.

 

The plodding columns pass them along the old Toul road;

New companies come marching where yesterday they strode;

Above, the whirr of motors—beyond, the roar of guns,

Where their allies and their brothers join battle with the Huns.

And the sunlight of their glory bursts through the clouds and rain,

O’er the Y-D cemetery by a roadside in Lorraine.

—Col. Harry B. Anderson, 26^th Div. Judge Advocate

Somewhere in France

SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE

I

A soldier boy lay dying,

On a road “somewhere in France;”

He had tried to get thru a barrage

Tho he knew he stood no chance.

A pal knelt down beside him

While the tears ran down his cheek

For this soldier was his life long friend

And he longed to hear him speak.

II

When the dying soldier opened

Up his eyes, and looked around

And saw his dear old pal

Kneeling side him on the ground

He smiled and said “They got me Jim

Yes got me with a shell.”

“My orders were to take this note

Thru water, fire and hell.”

III

“Take this message Jim and run it thru

Do not stop for me

It means two hundred lives and more

Its for our company

Fritz made a fake attack this morn

Just at break ‘o day

If you can only get it thru

We’ll make those dam Huns pay.”

IV

“And when you get around to it

Just write a line or two,

To my mother and my sweetheart Jim

Old pal so good and true;

Tell them I tried to make it

Thru gas, barrage, and shell

That my resting place is heaven

For I went clear thru a hell.”

V

Then the dying soldier closed his eyes

His pal with tender care,

Gently laid him down

And smoothed his bloody ruffled hair,

And with a sob of anguish

He started down the road,

In his hand he held the message

That was written out in code.

VI

Jim got the message thru in time

To call the German’s bluff,

He told the story to the boys

How the blood got on his cuff,

The dying words of Bill his pal

A runner dead and gone

And the company paid their last respects

To the brave but silent form.

(Wrote at Apremont at the conclusion of a dream)

—Batt. Runner Blanchard, Co. F 103rd Inf.

 

Many thanks to http://portraitsofwar.wordpress.com/ for sharing this rare find written by Pvt. C.R. Blanchard of the 103rd Hdq. Co. Signal Platoon while assigned to Co. F at Apremont in the Toul Sector. Please visit PortraitsofWar for many other fine examples of vintage military photography and interpretation.

Somewhere in France, 10/4/1917

I wrote to you last night hoping you are well and don’t worry that every thing will come out OK. Please answer as soon as possible as I would like to hear from you.

Your Son

William E Brown

 

© Copyright 2010 by Richard Martin, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

During the St. Mihiel Offensive, 9/27/1918

Sept 27, 1918

 

My Dear Mother,

Having not much to do I will drop a few lines hoping to find you in good health as it leaves me at present. I am now back with the company. I have wrote you a few letters from the hospital as I was there for minor reasons not resulting from anything to talk about. I have got your letter with 2 dollars and was glad to hear from you. I have received no mail from Nell or Morris as yet I have heard from Grace and Hazel Tripp quiet often and as to Arthurs letters I have got none.

Bill and Thomas "Babe" Brown, Chelsea Naval Hospital 1929

Don’t be alarmed of Arthur or Babe as they are alright as you said. This war will be a thing of the past before long so why worry every thing will come out alright so don’t worry but keep up and let nothing bother or worry and I am positive that things will come out with flying colors.

As to things over here is nothing interesting to write for the paper publish of happenings so we have nothing to write about only that the country is very pretty excepting place where artillery have bombarded and that is interesting to new comer but after one has seen things all though one passes it by with out noticing it.

I guess the old Boche has his hands full when they turned this bunch lose on him take my word for that. I will close now hoping hear from you soon and tell all that I know to write.

I see Annie Shunny married a Recruiting Sergt well Mrs Shunny is taking to soldiers all at once. I remember she use to ball me out when I enlisted 4 years ago it kind of makes me laugh now.

Your Son

Priv. Wm E Brown

M co 101st US inf AEF

 

© Copyright 2010 by Richard Martin, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

American Red Cross Reply, 7/11/1918

 

© Copyright 2010 by Richard Martin, All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without permission.

New England’s Own

 

NEW ENGLAND’S OWN

There’s a sound that swells to the listening sky, and breaks, and swells again
A sound to the April breezes blown of a host of marching men;
And the people’s hearts lift up to hear, and the city’s gates swing wide
To the tramp of twenty thousand strong, the beat of a tawny tide.
They come, they come with the throbbing drum! Let the glad word be known.
Fling the flags to the four free winds, and greet New England’s Own!

These were the eager-hearted ones when first the bugles blew;
The clean north winds had swept their souls before the war-flags flew.
They set their faces like the flint of the old north country hills;
They pledged their manhood without stint, and their young, intrepid wills.
They did not stay for the perilous way. Forward! their cry was thrown;
Stout hearts might well have faltered then — but not New England’s Own!

They caught the spurt of the first red stars that flamed the battle sign;
They gave their bodies as iron bars to weld the battle line;
Aisne-Marne, Chavignon, St. Mihiel, Meuse-Argonne east and west
The old strange names, familiar now as heart-beats in each breast,
And keen with memories of those they left to sleep alone,
Dust to dust in an alien land, yet still New England’s Own.

They dreamed the dreams of peace and youth, but when the storm was rife
They counted comfort less than truth and honor more than life.
Each with his starry flag above, his weapon in his hand,
Fought for earth’s liberty, and love, and his own dear native land;
Walked blindly in the smoking ways, that the light his eyes had known
Might never perish from the shore that sent New England’s Own.

There’s a sound that swells in the April air till it shakes the market-place
The tread of a host of marching men who have looked death in the face;
Who have staggered back from the brink of hell to find the world still sweet
And the dust of God’s own country gray once more upon their feet.
They come, they come with the throbbing drum! Let the high flag be flown
The flag they shed their blood to keep, and kept — New England’s Own!

by Nancy Byrd Turner, 1919