Letter 108

           Letter 108                                                                                                                                       

            January 19, 1919

Marson, France

            My Dear Sweetheart,

                        Sunday once more and still that great body of water separates us. Yet each day draws us nearer to each other, but it seems a long time to wait until that time comes when we will hear that wonderful sound, “Homeward Bound.”  What a wonderful sound, don’t you think, dear?  I’m just a wee bit blue today for I’ve been alone all day. Geo. was on duty, for he is a Lieutenant’s orderly now and must be on the job all the time. I surely miss him.

                        This morning I went to a neighboring town where the second battalion is located. I tried to find the Holman boy, but he was on duty too, so I was left alone again, so I went to another billet.  There I found a Parkinson boy who attended the University of Utah when I did; we had a confidential chat.  After leaving him I directed my course toward home (my French home) I met a number of Utah fellows.  They surely want to get home.

                        After noon mess I got my writing material and started to the Y, thus I came to my last resort to find comfort.  It is the only thing I can resort to when I feeling so blue.  I just let my whole mind go back there with you, dear.  The only thing missing is that gentle touch of your hand.  But I’m there in my mind, though I’m physically foreign to you.  Ah dear, if you could only see the expression on my face when I am in one of these states, for I imagine it is real and that I’m really ‘over there’.  I’m trying to tell you all about me ‘over here,’ but then I come out of my trance and the worse thing is coming back to this Army life.

                        But remember dear, each day draws us nearer to each other. But if you, only knew how my heart throbs for those loving arms of yours, and to be once more near you.  I often find myself back there and imagining if it could be true, dear. I’m afraid you would say my letter was very impolite and ungentlemanly, but you will forgive me dear for talking the way I do.  I really have become more manlike and life seems to be much more different to me.  I don’t look upon some things the same way I did before coming.  I am not ashamed of things I did while here, but I’ve seen life from another side.

                         I’m surely proud of my parents and the teachings they taught me, also for the great and never tiring love and faith you have given me.  As I’ve said before, it has been through you that I’ve been able to overcome some of my weaknesses.  One never knows what a man will do when deprived of his love’s companionship, as I have of  yours.  But I hope by the help of God I will be able to return back to you and my loved ones.  I will be a better man for having lived through this great school of life which has been filled with so much sin and temptations.

                        The last letter I wrote to you was a Berthleville.  We had gone to Demange where we stayed until Thursday.  Then we were ordered home by the major.  He told us we had been gone long enough.  So they sent men from “C” Company.  We surely enjoyed ourselves while there, for we had a fairly good place to spend our evenings. One thing we liked about it is that it was a warm place.  Another good thing was that they served doughnuts and cocoa, and by a real American girl.  Now don’t think that I’ve been flirting with her, but we did have a nice talk about where we’d been.  Just try to picture yourself in a foreign country and you could not speak French, but you met an American fellow.  You would talk to him, yes! For it would seem like you were really living, and someone thought enough of you to talk to you in English.

                        One thing we Americans will do when we get back is to take our hats off to the Salvation Army.  For they have followed the American Army to the front, and supplied their needs at the moment they needed them most.

                        We arrived at Marson Thursday but did nothing the remaining day.  Friday we drilled and Saturday morning we had inspection.  Then we had the afternoon off and now it’s today.  Tomorrow is a holiday for us who worked last Sunday.  The weather is a bit cloudy, and there’s a little rain now and then.

                        Give my best to all.  I was paid Thursday:  104 francs.  My, that gum you sent is sure appreciated.  I am chewing the last piece today.                                                                                                                                                       Love, Henry