This month’s entry about my grandmother’s first husband will
take their story through the end of 1917, including Christmas, a holiday they at first thought they would
be able to spend together. You’ll see, sadly, that hope was dashed. [Warning, this blog entry is a bit longer than average.]
Nine days after his marriage to Anna Bell Barnhart, James
Calhoun went off to war. They wrote many letters to each other. Most of the
surviving letters are those from James, but a few from Anna Bell also survive.
James started his military career at Camp Dix, New
Jersey. On November 24, 1917 he wrote his first letter from Camp Dix, noting that
“Most of the boys are feeling good and in a spirit of determination to make
good soldiers.” He went on to note that “The Delaware Co boys are together in
barracks temporarily at least but we do not know for how long.” In subsequent letters, he reports on the
camp set-up: “One of the full-sized bunk houses have four sleeping apartments
with about 80 cots in each apartment.
The cots in our apartment are rather close together but not at all bad.”
His early letters
also talk about waiting for his physical exam. He ultimately passed but several
of the Delaware County soldiers failed due to the lack of back teeth.
James goes on to
report on preparation for Thanksgiving dinner, which is the next day. “I was
down at the barracks of the 310th Infantry last night and saw the
cooks preparing for Thanksgiving dinner.
There are about 45 men in their company.
The cooks put up 30 pies and have 85 lbs of turkey to cook.”
James also notes
that several of the men were getting furloughs, but that “None of the new
fellows get furloughs yet.” He expresses some hope of getting one at Christmas
but reports that there will be no more 10-day furloughs until the end of the
war.
In a paragraph, he
explains what he understands bout getting paid:
I am told a private in the service gets $30. per month
and clothes. A married man has to
sign an allotment from his pay of at least $15 per month then the government
puts from $10 to $15 a month with it according to circumstances and sends it
all to the wife. That leaves $15 for the
soldiers per. month minus his insurance premium which amounts to as high $6.70
per mo. For $10,000 insurance or $.67 per $1000. per. mo. After insurance is paid the private has $7 or
$8 left for expenses. If a private disobeys
orders he is punished by having his pay docked, is shut up in the guard house
or put at hard work without pay. There
are a great many rules and regulations to remember so we have to be very
careful not to disobey or we get in trouble right quick.
James responds to a
theme that would continue for a bit – Anna Bell’s wish to make a visit to the
camp. While he is anxious to see her, he is hesitant about her coming to the
camp. He writes that “There are some of the vilest pieces of mankind in this
camp you can imagine and many of them are not even fit to meet a good woman on
the street.”
In his letter of
November 30, he mentions a couple of Bovina boys, and an intriguing reference
to a competitor for Anna Bell’s hand:
This has been a cloudy day and rain is gently falling
tonight. If we can keep the good will of
the officers. I think maybe we shall
have tomorrow P.M. off and we shall find Sergeant Lifgren and Lauren
Archibald. Lif and I shall have no scrap
as I shall not scrap with him but can afford to be gentle since he didn’t get
you.
It appears that at
least one member of Anna Bell’s family was passing along a suggestion that
might bring James back home, though he dismisses the suggestion: “Tell Edith I
cannot shirk as such work would only get me into trouble and would not give me
a chance to come home anyway - I cannot tell when I shall be home but after
awhile if I can get a furlough of decent length I shall come straight
home. A two day furlough is not long.”
James’ letter of
December 1 includes the fact that he still does not have a permanent address
and does not really know to where he may be transferred. He optimistically
states that he does not expect to be moved very far. Unfortunately, he would be
proven wrong a couple of weeks later.
The first letter from Anna to James to survive in her papers
dates from December 2 and was received December 5 by James. She is living with
her widowed mother and three siblings, brothers Ralph and Wilford and sister
Edith. In this letter, she continues to hope that James will be able to come
home on leave, given that some other Bovina soldiers have been doing the same.
The Fletcher and Vera she mentions are brother and sister Fletcher Davidson and
Vera Davidson Storie.
Bovina Center, NY
Sabbath Evening [December 2, 1917]
My dear James;
I do not think there will be any great sin if I do write
to you tonight. The boys and Edith are
away to services. Mother is sleeping on
the couch.
I try to write to you every day, but of course will no
doubt miss a few, but not many. I got a
letter from you every day last week but Friday.
I am dissapointed when I do not get a letter. They all tell me that I cannot expect a
letter every day. I received your letter
yesterday that you wrote Thanksgiving.
One you wrote Wed. I got Thursday.
I think very likely the mail comes this way quicker than it goes your
way. Have you received the mirror? I hope so and I hope it didn’t get
broke. I wrapped a towel around it. I thought it might be you could use the towel
and it would be a protection to the glass. Have you got any gloves yet? Was it the real gloves or the wristlets that
you wanted? And what color? I can get a pair of the wristlets from the Red
Cross at the Center in either gray or olive drab. I think those have a protection for the thumb
and hand. But Vera told me that Fletcher
says the Government furnishes the real gloves.
I think with the uniform. What
color is your Red Cross outfit. I wish I
could have seen it. Fletcher has been
home for a day or two. He went back
yesterday morning. Lauren Archibald came
home Wednesday night and I think he went back yesterday morning. He said it was better than not coming at
all. I am looking forward to Christmas
hoping you may get home for a few days and pray to God that I may not be
dissapointed. Will it be so you can let
us know you are coming? We will meet you
at any place if you let us know.
Fletcher didn’t get home until half past twelve. So if we didn’t know you were coming and you
came in the night you know where mother and I sleep, just come to the window
there and wake us and let us know who you are.
Or Edith might hear you if you called to her from under the window on
the front you know where she sleeps.
How I would like to get into bed with you tonight.
It is awfuly cold here.
Has been snowing all day, but not very hard. Ralph put the tires back on his car the other
night to go up to the party for Lauren.
He took the car tonight. The
roads are good for cars now. Is it cold
down there? I hope you are
comfortable. Are your beds warm? I expect they are not as warm as they would
be with two in them….
Mrs. Lee is soon coming down to Camp Dix to see Donald
and Viola Russell was advising me to go down with her. Would you think it advisable? Viola was in hopes that Clarence Lee would
have to go when you did not that she wanted either of you to go but that you
might be together….
It seems to me that you were left here just long enough
for us to get married and I hope that is true.
I am so glad that we did go on and get married, it means so much to me
to know that I belong to the best and truest man living. Thank God.
I am glad that you respect my home here so much. It isn’t a beautiful mansion but it sure is
home. Such as I hope you and I may call
a place that some day in the near future.
We will soon have been married 3 weeks.
It is over a week now that you went away. It seems more like months….
People all over town heard that you were home, that you
were rejected and sent home. I try to
keep your people posted on what I hear from you. I have talked with all of them but Mae. Cora called me yesterday. Mother was up with her a few days and went up
to Archies last night for a few days then she goes to Mae’s. Will Mabon is feeling better. Do you still have a good supply of cigars on
hand? Let me know when you want more,
Eh.
How often do you see a woman? And how often comb a maidens silken
hair? I miss that. Have your teeth been aching anymore? Mine havn’t.
I want you to be careful and not catch cold because you probably
wouldn’t have very good nursing. Have
you been vaccinated?
I wish you only knew how much you were thought of in
town. So many people are asking for your
address and I will surely give it to them when I know it for sure. Mrs. Davidson asked me today if I cared if
she wrote to my hubby. I know you will
be glad to hear from them all but I don’t want you to forget to write to me and
send the letters all to the others and I know you won’t.
 |
Postcard from James to Anna from Fort Dix, NJ, December 3, 1917
|
James’ next letter
to his wife, written the same day as the above postcard, he
finally has an address and is in a somewhat better situation.
Co K 310th Infantry, Dec 3, 1917
We reached our new barracks about 6:00 oclock this
evening and were given such a meal as we used to get up in old Delaware. We have much more room in our new quarters
and no smoking is allowed which is a great relief to me after living for over a
week in a cloud of smoke although it vexes some of the tobacco lovers. I assure you I shall never tease you about
those cigars again. Some careless
smokers caused one of the barracks to burn and that put an end to smoking in
several barracks.
I am 28 years old today and I don’t feel a bit older
although I am a little tired from steady drilling this forenoon and standing up
almost all P.M. From now on we expect to
get steady drill and ought soon to begin to toughen to the work.
His next letter
(December 4) is on a postcard, reporting that he is sick from his
inoculations.
I am sending you but a card tonight as I have been sick
and in bed all day caused by smallpox inoculation given me in arm last
night. Am better tonight and expect to
be on duty tomorrow. Nearly all the boys
were sick from inoculation.
Dear Anna I have tried not to write anything in my
letters to make you feel bad but I know how lonely and miserable you feel. I feel just that way myself and life is
almost unbearable but please for your own sake try to enter into and enjoy your
home life and your friends. Do not stay
home because I am not there to go with you.
I will love you must as dearly because I know I can trust my loved
one. Do everything you can to keep well
and strong.
The next letter to survive in my grandmother’s papers from
her to James is dated December 4 and was received December 8. She reports that
she wrote several letters that may have gone astray. She makes some intriguing
references to their courtship and other incidents that at this point, we can
only guess as to their nature. She also expresses a hope that they will find a
small flaw in James so he can come home.
Bovina Center, NY, December 4, 1917
My dear James;
Leila brought the looked for
letter today. I am so sorry that you
haven’t got my letters. But I am afraid
it is my fault. Of course as you said
you told me not to send anymore mail to that address but I knew you would be
glad to hear from me I thought I would write just the same it wouldn’t do any
harm to write even if you didn’t get it.
I have written nearly every day. …
The paper week before last
stated that Mr. and Mrs. James Calhoun and returned from their wedding
trip. Mrs. Oliver at Delhi wanted to
know if we went to New York and Hazel said she heard we were at Niagara. We had some trip, didn’t we? Was your trip down to N.J. like the one from
Roscoe to Andes. That is a trip I shall
always remember.
Wilford [Anna Bell’s younger
brother] has begun giving some more pointers.
A while he didn’t bother me he know how I felt when he could see tears
in your girls eyes most of the time. I have got so I can control my feelings
better now. I still have the blues
though. I guess Wilford will never forget
the night we were at Uncle Wills to choir practice. You know the misunderstanding. He also says he wishes he had taken his flash
light along the night we went after our license so he could have seen in the
back seat.
Yours with all love imaginable,
Anna
PS - I have a box of candy on hand which a fellow once
filled for his wife and I will save the great part of it to share and eat with
the fellow. Anna.
James recovers from his inoculation, but in a letter written December 5, is concerned
that the second shot might make him sick again, as it has several others in his
company.
This was the soldiers half
holiday and Lauren Archibald came up and brought the packages for Frank and
I. I took Franks down tonight and also
some from mine. Those cookies were the
best ever baked and those candies remind me of some very happy times we have
had together. Those cookies tasted so
goody-good and different from the stuff one can buy - they simply couldn’t be
beaten.
How is everything in old
Bovina? I shall never find any fault
with good old Bovina if it is my privilege to come back there and live. The boys here all feel the way I do. They are not here because they wish to be but
because they must be and some of them do curse Germany and the Kaiser
fierce.
That same day, Anna had written to James:
I received your card and also
letter of Monday (December 3). I can
tell you I didn’t forget your birthday.
I am glad the mirror has reached you at last and I hope it proves
satisfactory in every way. I have sent
all letters so far to the old address at Co No 6. I mailed one today at that but perhaps you
will get it….
Mother and I were down to the
congregational meeting today. … I am still receiving congratulations, but everyone
always adds their sympathy and tell me that it must all be for the best. Did I tell you about the people thinking you
were home? That was all quieted down and
yesterday John McCune asked Ralph if you were.
… It is queer what stories will
get started.
Do not eat too much and get fat
because how it would be for you to be big and fat and me a poor little
thing. I am not getting any fatter and
do not think I will under the circumstances.
… Vera wants me to come down and
stay with her all day and all night.
Everyone is so good to me but I havn’t the heart to go away any place
and have a big time. My heart is too
heavy for that when my lover and husband is in such a place.
James’ next letter responds to her letter of December 2. He
also addresses her wish to visit him in camp.
I am still hoping I can get home
at Xmas and will not dissapoint(sic) you indeed if they give me time enough so
I can have at least two days and two nights up there. I do not know as I could let you know the
exact time I would reach there but would let you know the exact time but will
let you know if I can. If I could not
let you know I can hoof it in all O.K. If I get there in the night I can easily
awaken you.
Anna I scarcely know what to say
in regard to your coming down with Mrs. Lee.
If want to come I should hate to advise you not to do so and I should
awfully like to see you. I hate even to
think of you coming to this camp of men and I do not know where I could provide
for you while here unless you went with Mrs. Lee to some nearby town. The men here run around and stare at a woman
as though they hadn’t see[n] one for the past 5 years. Don’t take too much chance traveling. I shall come home at the first
opportunity. Don’t take my advice on
this but do just as you think best….
Yes I am very glad we were
married it helps to keep a very warm spot in my heart and it has meant so much
to me and always will and to think I belong to the truest and best
little woman alive. Sometimes I wonder
if I wasn’t sent away just as a judgment on my head for something but I can see
why you should suffer
James’s hope for coming home for Christmas start to fade in
the face of a possible move further south, as his letter from Dec 9, 1917:
It was nice that Mr. and Mrs.
J.C. came back from their wedding trip OK and that they saw so many places of
interest. I had always wanted to see
Niagara falls hadn’t you? The trip down
here was very similar to the one we took from Roscoe to Andes and I was glad when
it was finished. I scarcely dare look at
our pictures they only tend to make me more homesick. A bunch of the fellows have to go south and I
don’t know whether I am included in the list or not. God knows I hope not. If I must go I won’t get home at all. I am glad you feel better, please do not
worry but trust the best you can and get all the wholesome enjoyment out of
life you can. Wilford likes to tease but
he doesn’t mean to be harsh about it at least all the teasing he did never hurt
me one bit.
Anna wrote a letter the same day hoping James will get some
time at Christmas. She hasn’t yet heard
of his concern that he might have to go south, scotching plans for
Christmas. This letter is the last of
Anna’s letters to James found in her papers until a batch of them dated in
March. She reported going to church:
And the leading thought all through the sermon was about the home. It made me think about what our home
will be some day. I built an air
castle all through the sermon. He said
the home was the oldest institution and will last the longest of any
institution.
I see all through the paper that
a good number of boys from all over have been home from Camp Dix for Thanksgiving
and so I am thinking that you may get home at Christmas. You must tell them that you have got to come
and have a good long furlough too. I
think if they knew how we felt they would let you off….
After I got my dinner work done
up today I laid down on the couch and finally went to sleep and they never woke
me when they went to chores and I never knew a thing until Edith came in from
milking. We are only milking 19 cows
now. Havn’t anymore fresh ones but will
have soon.
Now about who swiped the suit
case the day of the wedding. We thought
none of the married were into it but it was Shirley, Jessie, Vera Storie and
Dora Hastings Barnhart. I guess if we
only knew the whole truth the whole way through they all felt pretty sore
because of our fooling them so much all around.
Wilford put 2 little onions in
Jessie’s muff today but she found them before she started for church and so she
put one in each of the boys coat pockets.
Ralph found his coming home but I guess Wilford has not found his yet.
Davidson’s expect that Fletcher
started sailing last Friday night. O
dear I don’t know what I will do if you ever have to go. It is all I can do now with you where you
are.
James wrote the next day (December 10), confirming the plans
to move him further south, and he obviously is not happy about the situation:
I hate to write
this but you must know it. A bunch of 35
raw recruits are to be sent for Co K to Camp Greene, North Carolina and I am on
the list. I feel most indignant over it
but please don’t feel bad, and make yourself sick. I cannot keep from crying myself. It seems as though these army people have no
heart at all. I have been forced into
this thing and now have to be pushed farther from home without a chance to get
home. …
There will be one advantage in going south we won’t
freeze to death but suppose there will be just as bad drawbacks there as here.
[Ironically, the
winter of 1917/1918 was one of the wettest in North Carolina in years, causing
a serious problem with mud, as James would find out]
On December 11,
James wrote that:
We have not heard very much more
regarding the fellows who have to go south but we know more definitely who they
are. I do hope your box reaches me
before I have to start. It probably will
if it comes by parcel post. I am sorely
vexed to think I must go south. That
means that if we go south before Xmas, I cannot get home now and probably not
for some time. However today’s paper
stated good news regarding the war and it may soon close now. God grant that it may.
All the fellows to go south were
marched to the hospital today and given our third innoculation against small
pox. My vaccination is healing now and I
am glad it has worked. I hope this
innoculation doesn’t make me as sick as the last one did.
I would most certainly enjoy some of that Bovina water
and I should most assuredly like to have you with me but not just to have you
wash my clothes I didn’t marry you to make a drudge of you and see to it that
you don’t overwork. How I wish I could
have eaten some of those rolls and a piece of cream cake with you. It makes me think of courtship days. It is nice to think of housekeeping days and
no one will appreciate a home more than I after feeling so lonesome and
deserted and cast away as I do here and it would simply to be paradise to have
you with me again.
In his next letter,
James notes that “The officers here tell us they are much more strict in the
regular army than they are here in the national army.” And he reports that “Eleven
of the Delaware Co boys who came down when I did were rejected as unfit for
service and started for home this morning. They were a happy bunch.” The main
reason they were rejected was because of their poor teeth.
On December 13, James writes: "This will probably be my last letter to you from this
camp as 35 of us expect to leave for Camp Greene at 9:00 oclock tomorrow, Dec
14. There is one advantage it will be
warmer down there. We are to be changed
from the National Army to the regular army and we expect to get a very rigid
examination down there. Perhaps I shall
be thrown out."
James’s next letter is written on a train while in transit
to Camp Greene, North Carolina. He mourns the upset to their Christmas plans: “Well
good bye to Xmas vacation. I am so sorry
it has to be this way. I had planned so
much on seeing you there and I know you will be almost broken hearted. Don’t give up hope yet I shall come home the
first opportunity I get. It will be a
long time before we cross the water.”
During the following week, James’ letters report on how he
is settling into Camp Greene, North Carolina with Co. D. 7th
Infantry. He also rues the ruining of his plans to visit his wife at Christmas.
He notes that “We live in tents here
with eight men in a tent.” He describes the tent as “about 14 feet square, has
a board floor and is boarded up to the eaves of tent which is about 3 feet from
the floor. We have a small sheet iron
stove, which is indeed small but we have a good fire now and it gives an
excellent heat…We have to cut our own fuel but it is good wood to make fire
where it is cut; it is of different varieties of evergreen.”
While the heat was
ok, there were problems with frozen water. He reported that “our hands and
faces were black with dirt so we went over to the mule stable to wash in the
watering trough. We had just gotten our
hands nicely soaped when the mule driver came out and told us to get out of
there that we were spoiling the water. I
got out at once and finished my washing with snow.” The situation with the
water did improve.
As far as we know,
this was James’ first time in the south. He noted that “The country here is
rather rolling and in places there is considerable evergreen timber. We saw a good many negroes while on our way
south but there is none in this camp.”
He reported a bit
about his squad. “Our squad leader or corporal has been in the service 6
months. He is of Spanish and Indian
descent I should think by his appearance and actions. I think he is going to be a good leader and
will try and help us greenies in every way he can.” He reported that there were
some Delaware County boys in nearby squads. And he commented that “The fellows
in this squad seem all good but one and he has the big head so bad the boys all
detest him. If he stays with us he is
liable to get a few lessons I can tell you that.”
The food James is
getting at Camp Greene apparently is an improvement from Camp Dix. One night he
reported having “bread, cake, meat, potatoes, coffee, butter, sugar and
sauerkraut and plenty of everything.
They say this is the best fed company in the regiment.”
James continues to
mourn that he can’t be home for Christmas. “It will make me home sick I know
when I see the other fellows hiking out for home. Maybe I can be with you next year at Xmas and
may God grant that the good old U.S. be at peace with the rest of the world...”
Once James was settled in Camp Greene, he was asked to take up
an old profession of his, teaching. He was asked by one of the men in his tent
to help him teach English to a “class
of foreign fellows.” He found it “funny to help men of my age to learn to read
and write words of three and four letters” but noted they were eager to learn.
He did find some of their surnames to be challenging. “It takes an expert to
write and read them; just pronounce the following for an example -
Nanastorvitiz - Don’t you wish you possessed such a name. Some people think Calhoun is an odd name but
I think there are other names just as queer as mine.”
Sometimes, James
found his attempts to write to Anna thwarted. He reported that one afternoon, “We
we[re] called out after dinner, placed in company formation by our lieutenant
and marched about 4 miles to the outskirts of Charlotte to watch a football
game between boys of the 7th Inf and boys of some other
company. I cared nothing about watching
the game. I should just as soon see a
dog fight as a football game.”
James reported
about getting paid and how some of the men spent it. “We will probably get our
first pay one month from now and then will be paid from Nov 23 to Jan 1,
1918. Many of the boys spend their money
almost as soon as they get it or else they gamble it away. One fellow who I am certain received pay
yesterday came into our tent this morning and wanted to borrow $.50 on a ring
his had until next pay day when he would return the $.50 and get the ring. He was unable to get the money from anyone in
this tent.”
James and Anna’s
only Christmas as husband and wife is spent apart. He writes her on Christmas
Eve:
This forenoon we had to pass in our mess kits given us at
Camp Dix and had new ones issued to us from this camp. This afternoon we received more shoes and
underwear. I was given another pair of
hob nailed shoes (size 7 ½ E). I wear
two pairs of heavy woolen Red Cross socks with them. If you can get some more heavy woolen socks
just send them along down as they give us the best service of any sock we can
wear. In underwear I have just been
given three woolen shirts and three woolen drawers….
If we get no colder weather than this we certainly are
going to miss the winter this year. We
have no idea what will be required of us when we get through training at this
camp but one thing very certain is we must have a good bit more training before
we are fit to go into actual warfare. I
doubt very much if we ever see very much fighting and if we do you may feel
sorry for Germany. When this war closes
and that will be when Germany is whipped, there will be a good long period of
peace.
James also writes
on Christmas Day, reporting on his meal and rain:
This has been a brown Xmas indeed or perhaps a green
Xmas. There is plenty of material here
for decorating purposes and our mess hall was beautifully decorated today. Our Christmas dinner was surely all one could
ask or desire in way of good things to eat and plenty but I missed the friendly
faces and hominess I know would have been mine to enjoy had I been in good old
New York. I am enclosing a menu card of
our dinner today. Supper call has
sounded so will write more later.
It is drizzly outside tonight and that will mean more
mud. Rain only began about 4
o’clock. This afternoon a bunch of us
went out to watch athletic events given for the soldiers. We walked about two miles out. There was such a crowd of soldiers and some
civilians that we could hardly see the races.
I saw a sack race, some fancy horseback riding and a pole race. The Red Cross distributed candy and tobacco
but one could not get near them had they wanted to do so because of the
crowd.
 |
| This is the menu card James enclosed with the above letter |
The day after
Christmas, James received several letters from Anna that had gotten delayed by
his move south. He received letters from several other people too, but he’s not
sure packages are reaching him. “I shall tell you just what and when I get a
package and in that way I can tell if packages reach me OK. I maybe that packages travel slower than
letters during the Christmas rush.” He comments on some of the things going on
back home as related in Anna’s letters, including a reference to lice: “They
are certainly hard fellows to fight - they are like the Germans must be.”
On the 27th,
James received more delayed letters, as well as a folding case. “I cannot tell
you fully how useful it is going to be.
We have no place to keep our article laying out in our tent and need a
place where we can keep numerous articles in a small space and also when we
have to move.”
James writes how
much he enjoys getting letters about life back home. “It seems to be natural
for my mind to the place I love to be so much, and that place is on the
farm. I have not given up hopes of
occupying one myself some day in true partnership with you. I like to hear of the preparations you’re
making for our home. It does so much to
keep up my hope and interest.” James
also is worried that Anna is making herself “sick grieving and worrying about”
him and admonishes her to “keep your mind from your trouble as much as you care
and enjoy your home and your
many loving friends and relatives.”
On the 28th,
James reports the receipt of three boxes of candy from three different people, “a
good variety chocolates from Wilford, maple fudge from Will and Vera [Storie],
and assorted homemade candy from Grace and Gene [Storie].” He also is a bit concerned that his
letters are not coming to Anna more regularly, noting that he writes to her
every day. He does warn her that soon the will be sent out to the rifle range,
which involves a hike of 12 miles with all their equipment, camping for a week
or so, then hiking back. Letters won’t be likely when that happens. The day he
wrote this letter the company picture was taken. He noted that the picture is
about 4 feet in length (I have it today).
Early on the
morning of the 30th, as James later reported in a letter that same
day, they were aroused at “3 o’clock this morning to go to a fire at the
hospital. The fire was gotten under
control with the loss of one building.
We were there in time to form a bucket brigade… It is about a mile and a
half from our tent to the scene of the fire.
We went on double time most all-way there but were glad to walk coming
back.”
James had been
noting that he had a sore throat and it was continuing to the end of the year.
The weather was very cold and windy, making the tents cold. James managed to
stay warm with seven blankets and slept with one of his bunkmates, which also
helped. “I know some of the boys sleeping alone were nearly frozen last night.”
On December 31, James reported the receipt of his wife’s letters written at Christmas. His
cold has gotten worse, with a sore throat and headache. Many of his fellow
soldiers also are sick. Much of this letter responds to the news from home.
Anna had reported
in her letter that her sister Edith was not at home but helping at the home of
James Boggs. His wife, Elizabeth, was ill and in fact would die about a month
later. [Edith would marry James Boggs in 1919.]
James wrote that “I
am glad to know that Wilford is so interested in the stock. If he wants to get a fancy bull calf he can
get the addresses of thoroughbread stock men from the “Jersey Bulletin.” I think I gave him a few copies of the
Bulletin of earlier dates. Has the new
tester commenced work in Bovina? I hope
the testing work may survive again after a time if I farm in Bovina I want my
cows tested and I desire to see the other farmers doing the same thing.”
James closes his last letter of 1917letter with:
I also wish I might write you something real good and
encouraging but the best I can say is that the war may soon close and that we
can have a few bright spots in our life such as those letters were this
morning. Please try and enjoy your dear
ones up there and do not think but that all is well with me. You cannot help me by grieving and my dear if
you continue to grieve you will be sick.
Your most loving husband James
