Letter 109
Marson,
France
January
26, 1919
My Dear
Sweetheart,
Can
you hear the piano? Some of the fellows
of the 349th Infantry are giving us a few notes, testing the
keys. Well dear, it is Sunday once more
and still that boundless body of water separates us; in reality, but not in
mind. For I have been with you almost
all day a little more than usual. The
reason I cannot explain, but seem to have a longing for your tender love which
is hard for me to stand. You say you
miss me? Well darling of mine, you don’t miss me any more than I miss you. My love for you at times seems to overrule me
and I forget what I’m doing.
The
other day, as we were drilling, my mind wandered back to you and about that
time the command came, “To the Rear, March!”
Well, the result was, instead of doing as I was told I just kept on
going and ran right into the men coming toward me. So you can see for yourself what it means to
me to have my mind on home, especially when we are drilling. But remember dear, we drill only two and a
half hours. So you see I had plenty of
time to think of you, and wonder what you were doing to pass away the long
weary nights. One advantage you have over
me is that you can sit around the fire at night. You can write or read, and not have someone
yell in your ear, or cussing at you because you are to do something else.
Give
my love to all. I hated to hear that you
had stopped school at the University of Utah, but remember dear, health comes
before anything else in this life. A
sick army is of no value. I think you
are taking the right course, which God has prepared for you.
The
reason I don’t write more than once a week is partly because I can’t find a
good place to write, or a place where it is quiet and warm. But one consolation I have is that this will
not last a lifetime, I’m sure.
Now don’t feel blue because Ward
and Mabel are going to be married soon, or possibly before you get this letter,
but remember, there is one over here who is longing for the day we will be
bound together in the Holy House of the Lord.
Just keep a stiff upper lip dear, and remember there is a brighter day
coming for us by and by, and then we can say we are true lovers. Give Ward and Mabel my highest and best
wishes for life. Tell them it will be
impossible for me to be there for the great day; but nevertheless, I’ll be
thinking of them and send my heartfelt blessing.
Well
dear, I’ve been served very well this week, for I received five letters from
you, dear, two from Mother, and one from Mr. Patterson. Oh, if you only knew how they make me
feel. Some came Monday night. Yours of Dec. 31 came Wednesday, and some of
Dec. 18, 20, 22 came Thursday. Even if
they are old or late ones they are received with open arms, for they mean so
much to me. I read and reread them to
keep my spirit up.
In your letter you spoke of the presents you
and I got. Do you think I’m worthy of
them? I think I hear you saying, “Yes, dear.”
The only gift I can send to you is that I appreciate all they are doing
for you and for me and I hope I will be able to repay them someday.
When
you talk about Christmas trees, giving, and receiving presents, it makes me a
little homesick. For really, dear, it
does not seem like Christmas here, but an extended trip in this war stricken
country of France. We are seeing a few
things now and then, and being driven here and there, but we do not have any
freedom. When we come to some a town of
any size, we cannot enter unless we have a pass for all streets are headed with
an MP. If you only knew how we talk about them “over here.” One often hears the
remark, “Who won the war?” Answer: MPs,
assisted by the Y.M.C.A.
Say,
you tell Deloras not to bother you about bread pudding, for it reminds me of
some we have here at camp. But we don’t
call it bread pudding. We call it burlap. Do you get my meaning? They wrap the bread in sacks, and the
particles remain. Then all get thrown
together with a little water, some sugar, and then it is baked. Thus we get the
name burlap. We eat it just the same.
Yesterday
was inspection day. We had a regimental review on a large hillside between the two
towns where the 313th Engineers are stationed. The band was present
and we enjoyed the music greatly, but while we were standing at attention, that
stinging cold breeze came under our steel lids and nipped our ears. But still, we stood like statues. Finally the word came, “At Ease!” After inspection, a number of boys and I went
to Treveray, about 6 kilometers away. We
had to slip by the MPs in order to get in.
We were successful and I obtained a number of French post cards of the
town and returned home. The church there
was built in 1726.
Today has been a
cold day but I am spending my time inside writing. They had Y meetings here this morning, and
then sang a number of songs. The speaker
took for his subject, “All things work
together for God,” which I think is true and surely made the men think about
somethings they had never thought of before.
My
darling sweetheart, have a patient heart and before long I’ll be back to you
and we’ll leave these long days of hardship behind us and then we can think of
the present and future. I hope you are
receiving the mail all the time now. I’m
anxious to receive to receive another letter, for I’m sure the good news will
be there that mail has come. May God
ever guard you and keep you for me is the love and wish I am sending to my
sweetheart girl.
Corp.
Henry D. Call
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