Letter # 73
Camp
Mills, Long Island, New York
August
11, 1918 My Dear Sweetheart,
Sunday morning once more, and all is
okay, only the weather is a little cool. Ever since I’ve arrived here it has
been a little too cool to enjoy good sleeping with the amount of bedding we
have. You must remember I only had one blanket and a rain coat, but I must get
used to it for I will see worse weather.
The change is so noticeable. Last night we had a terrible rainstorm
here. I thought the tent was going to fall in, the way the rain fell.
We are not working very much here,
no drilling, only we have to stay at own tent all day, and pass through
inspections one after the other. Yesterday we had three inspections; two of our
clothing, and one of our bodies. We had one more this morning of our body. They inspect us every day, for they are going
to be sure there is none of us who are infected.
Well
dear, yesterday and Friday night were surely interesting to me, for I located
most of the fellows from home. I did not
get to find David [Henry’s brother] until last night. He came a week ahead of his battery, but he
came back to his company yesterday.
Last night, I walked by the
kitchen and there I found him! To tell
the truth, never did I think I was so fat, but he is just like a fat pig, short
and thick. Irvin was not there. Well, I sat down and had a good evening chat,
then we went to Hempstead, a town near the camp. We had oysters, the first I’d had since
leaving home, but they were not as good as those I get at home. After that, we walked home talking about the
things at home. It surely made me feel
much better, for they have been the first boys I have seen from home.
Ah, dear, I want to tell you I feel
more like going and doing my duty now, for I feel as if I am not alone. Just to be with some who are from home puts
new life into anyone. I am so happy,
yes, so happy, I can hardly concentrate my mind, and you know much I appreciate
the ones from home. For now it seems
more like home than since I left.
David sure has got the ins and outs
of army life, for when I tell him about the things we do, he just smiles and
says, “When you’re in the army nine months more, you’ll be a soldier.” That may be true, but I hope I’m not in for
that long. Some of the fellows I have
seen are: Fred, Charlie Garrett, Claude Jacobson, Fred B., Conway B., Leonard
Day, Jessie Goodfellow, Foss Richard, Nivian William, and David Smith. I haven’t seen Omer yet, but I’m going to try
and find him this afternoon, for I’m going over to see David again. He said he was on duty but would try and get
off. George found his brother also, so
you see, we are having a big celebration all by ourselves.
After
all were in bed last night someone came to my tent and said in a low voice, “Is
Henry Call here?” This he repeated
several times before I awoke. I answered
him. I was completely at a loss as to
what to do, but to my surprise, it was Ward Stringham. He told me he had been here before, but we
were out. The reason why he came in so
late was that he was afraid he would go at any time. But I surely appreciate it. Ward asked me if Clyde B. was here. I told him I did not know, but he belonged to
88th Division and would be here soon.
If I stay here very long, David
and I are going to New York and see the town.
As he told me last night, he had been over there three times.
I received your letter of Aug. 2nd,
for it was sent from Camp Dodge here, so you see, I still hear from you, dear
heart, which is the best part of army life to me. David kind of bawled me out a little for
referring to home so much, but how could anyone go through this life and not
think of home and the loved ones left behind.
Well, they can say anything they wish, but I shall always have the same
love of home as I ever did.
I surely wish I were somewhere I
could go to church and be my own self again.
More than anything, I wish to be back home for Sundays any way
possible. I would not feel put out if
they would let me stay home anyway.
They have a saying: if you want to
see the world, join the army. This is
true, but there is always a feeling of depression, for one can’t enjoy it the
same as if you were on a pleasure trip.
But dear, when I get back, we’re going to have a little trip
ourselves. Then it will be enjoyed, you
know how that will be, don’t you dear? Excuse
the short sentences, for I’m so happy, I can’t write all that my heart wishes
to express.
I can’t say today that I’m all
dressed up and nowhere to go. For we’re
all going to have an enjoyable time.
Well dear heart, don’t worry about me for I am as happy as I can be. For I’m in love with a beautiful girl, you
know her, don’t you? So God with you,
and grant you the desires of our own hearts.
With
oceans of love,
Henry
XX
P.S. You asked me what I thought of you going with
the Red Cross Nurses. Well dear, I’m
telling you what I’ve seen at Camp Dodge.
Several mornings we went for a short hike down to the base
hospital. There we would see a number
of nurses. And for all the slurs and
smutty talk I heard while in the presence of those nurses, it is more than I
could have anyone say of my dear sweetheart.
Another thing, they are not looked upon by some of the soldiers as
lovely women, but only as certain kinds of persons. You know what I mean. Now after hearing what I heard, I would
rather not have anyone whom I think of so much join the Red Cross Nurses. For I’ve heard some mighty bad reports of
them, whether it be true or not, but to have anyone talk about my sweetheart as
some I’ve heard talk about them, I’d rather be in deep water all the time. For no one could ever talk about you, or any
other girl whom I know to be so pure, as they do. Now sweetheart, do as you please about this,
but you have my feelings and how I feel about it. I do hope Hazel doesn’t have to go. This report may not be true elsewhere. May you be guided to do what is right and
your duty.
With
love,
Henry X
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