Love Letters

Love Letters
136 letters from 1918, WWI

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Letter 97


Letter 97

                                                                                                                          Bayonville, France

                                                                                                                        Dec. 8, 1918

My Dearest Sweetheart,

            Sunday night and still in France, but I can’t say all dressed up and nowhere to go, for I’ve been off visiting all day.  I’ll bet you don’t know where I’ve been; well I’ve been to Metz, the place where America had centered her aim.  It surely is a large place, compared to the towns and villages I’ve been in.  I’ve bought a few things which I needed and a few souvenirs; you will know what they are when I get back. The town is not torn to pieces; everything seems to be going on as if the war had never been here.

            But you should have seen the great throngs of hurrying people going in all directions, for today was a great day for the people of Metz.  The president of France, Gen. Fock, and the American Ambassador were there.  The soldiers of Metz had planned a great parade.  They seemed to be everywhere, for every street had parts of the army marching, accompanied by the band.

            I joined in with the crowd, and to tell you the truth, I never thought people could crowd so tightly together.  We had dinner in a German home.  They seemed to be of a higher class of people, for they had maids to wait on the table. The family consisted of two boys one who had been in the German army.  He had been sick and now was home. From the looks of things he was home to stay, for he wore civilian clothes.  The girl did most of the talking which pleased us very well, for she was our interpreter. They surely were nice to us, and wanted us to stay longer.  I suppose you will know all about Metz now, if you don’t just wait till I get back. I bought some postcards of some of the buildings.  I did not see them all, but they are good remembrances of that great city.

            The weather here is very mild and it seems more like Oct. and not Dec. for the grass is still green and the fields are covered with produce.  We have a little rain now and then but the sun does not shine very often as of late. I’m still feeling like we have a very nice room, only three of us living in it. The only fault can find it that there seems to be some little creatures which takes delight in playing hide-n-seek on me.   I think they call them cooties, oh there is one on my knee. He was too quick for me.  Maybe I’ll capture him if I go over the top and be very careful and quiet.

            We left Nandiers yesterday morning.  I surely hated to leave for we had such a good billet, but these are as good if not better. I haven’t seen George since last Tuesday; he was working on the railroad near me. He said to say hello.

            Well dear last Friday we had a half holiday. At 4:30 we had something special; two young American ladies gave us a concert in the ruined church.  The program consisted of piano selections, violin, and viola. My, how they made my head go pit-a-pat, and cold chills go up my back.  Oh how I wish more Americans would come and break the hard looks so many of us have on our faces all times.  Then we should smile. Three of the pieces played and sang were “Way Down upon the Swany River,” “Swinging Along,” and “Missouri Waltz.”  You have them all on the Victrola.  Just play then once again for me.

            Well dear, I want to send some postcards so I will bring my letter to a close.  Oh, I forgot to tell you something.  I’ve been promoted again (Corporal) since first of December.  Sweetheart, just keep on sending those love messages, and never you worry.  I am sending my love every day and night to you. May God ever protect me to come home to you,  my sweetheart.

                                                                                             Yours,

                                                                                     Corporal Henry D. Call

                                                                                     Co. A. 313th Engrs., APO 732

                                                                                    American Expeditionary Forces,

                                                                                     France

P.S.  A cable gram came telling of the death of Pres. Joseph F. Smith.  Today is my brother David’s birthday, age 23.  Give my love to all.  I was surely sad to hear of Matt’s death.  Well, dear, he is only one of many who have lost their lives ‘over here’.    

                                                                                     

Signed by censor, Geo. A. Hult, 1st Lieut. U.S. Army

No comments:

Post a Comment