The largest
part of the collection of letters that my grandmother, Anna Bell Barnhart,
exchanged with her first Husband, James Calhoun, comes in March, partly because
several of her letters to him survive. As noted in earlier blog entries, James
was destroying most of the letters he received from his wife because he did not
feel he had secure storage for them. As he wrote on March 1, “I wish I had
been able to keep each one of the letter(s) you have written me but do not dare
carry them about as some one will get them and read them. Consequently I feel compelled to destroy them
after I have kept them a few days and read them carefully. I know you realize how I am situated. All the property I now have is over in camp
and open for the inspection of all so you can see how easy for people to get
into it.” The March letters from his wife that survived likely were ones he
brought home on his brief furlough at the end of the month (and after his
hospital discharge, when he had a bit more control over his possessions at camp).
My
grandmother of course was able to save all the letters. I have 75 very
precious chapters of our love story put away in a place of safety up in the
little room where I have our things. I
have 6 others which I haven’t put away yet as I always keep them for a few days
and read and reread them.
James Health
and Life at Camp Greene
James started
the month still in the camp hospital. He spent another week there before he was
finally discharged. But he continued to struggle with his cold throughout the
month and into April.
He wrote on
March 1 that “I feel good today but the doctor has not said for me to get
out of bed yet. I think he is afraid I
would go to work as I did the last time he let me get up and get sick
again. He is going to keep me in bed
until I am able to go out. This morning
he asked me if I would be able to go out soon.
I told him I felt well enough to go out now.…For dinner today I had a
glass of milk, slice of toast, one soft egg and a dish of pudding. The light rations are good here as they are
partly prepared here at the ward but the regular rations are for people
stronger than I. I had regular rations a
couple of days while here and they were enough to make a well person sick."
On March 3, he reported that “This is my
first day up since I went to bed from working in the kitchen. The Dr. gave me strict orders this time to be
careful about working. I feel funny when
I stand on my feet. I feel as though I
would be unable to work for a week yet.”
James was in the hospital several more days
but not bedridden. He was allowed to do some work in the kitchen but when the
doctor found it made him quit that and threatened him with bread and water if
he didn’t stay out.
He was finally discharged on March 7. His
long hospital stay weakened him. It took him some time to get his strength
back. He reported on March 16 that “My muscles are so sore from drilling
that I can hardly move when I first start to walk. I hope though to overcome that difficulty
after a few more days.” He didn’t totally blame his hospital stay for this.
His time in the orderly room in early February kept him from exercising and he
later felt led to his illness that put him in the hospital.
Life and training at Camp Greene continued.
On March 9, he reported “This morning we were taken to the gas house to
learn to use a gas mask and to learn to distinguish different kinds of gas by
their odor. A number of us had not had
instruction in the use of the gas mask so were not allowed to enter the room
filled with gas but waited until the others had passed through the gas filled
room and then we all marked back reaching the company street at about 10:30 AM.”
He was getting outside more once he left the
hospital. On March 14, he noted that “The sun is making an impression on my
face the past two days and my nose is peeling freely now. A few days here will make us black like
negroes. When we came here early in the
winter the white native population still had on some of the southern tan from
the previous summer sun.”
On March 21, James wrote in his self-deprecating
way about his promotion to Corporal: “No, I would rather that you would not
address me as corporal because, corporal are made here every few days and are
often some reduced to privates again. I
would rather that people did not know I had been made a corporal then if I am
reduced they will not say I could not keep my job. It is really much harder in time of war to
keep such a position as men coming from civil life know so little about the
army rules and so much is expected of them in such a short period of
instruction.” He went on to comment on his health situation: “If I felt
real strong I could keep up with the pace O.K. but as I am not so very strong
it is pretty hard sledding. My cough
sticks to me and I get out of breath very easily. If I could be in N.Y. a while I could get it
to go away I think but the change of climate makes it hang on worse as it does
with many of the boys.”
News from Home
James always thirsted for news from back
home and commented on it frequently. He was particularly feeling homesick for
spring back in the Catskills. In early March he wrote “You will soon begin
to get some real spring weather up there and then hurrah! for sugar
making. I know I am going to be more
homesick than ever when it comes time for spring up in New York and I am also
going to feel more determined than ever not to let that homesick feeling get
the better of me until the times comes when I can get home.”
The Car
A discussion
that James and Anna had in their letters during March concerned their car,
Jershua. They debated back and forth about whether or not to sell it. They had
sold it to Will and Vera Storie, but Anna wrote in early March that "Will and
Vera do not want to buy the car, he says he hasn’t got the money.” She went on
to write that “I sometimes feel that I want it here to use and then I think it
will be a great deal better not to have it as you say the tires will rot and
then the “juice” isn’t as free as water.
I do wish and trust you may get home and then you can do with the car as
you want to.”
This whole discussion about the car shows
how hard James and Anna were trying to accommodate each other. James wrote that
“Certainly I think it would be nice to get the car and run it if you can for
it only be careful and do not try any speeding.
Why need you ask me the car belong to you just as much as to me?” The
incident also shows the frustration of communicating long distance by letter.
Letters sometimes took a week to arrive. The last mention of the car comes from
Anna: “I am almost sorry I mentioned selling the car as I believe you really
wanted to keep it but agreed to sell it because you thought I wanted too. This war is a nuisance, and no one knows how
much suffering is caused by it but it must be for a purpose.” In the end, the car was sold after James went to France.
 |
| This may be 'Jershua,' the car that Anna and James were discussing. There are three different cars in pictures from my grandmother's collection from this time, but in a blurry picture of the car being driven, the driver looks like James. So I think this likely is the car in question. |
Family
issues
During
March, Anna reports numerous contacts with James’ mother and siblings. James
and Anna both feel the importance of connecting with each other’s families.
Anna makes at least one visit to James’ mother and siblings in March. And from
his letters, James has frequent contact with at least two of Anna’s siblings,
Edith and Wilford. He did feel he went over the line a bit concerning Edith and
wrote “I am going to stop teasing Edith because from what she said about Geo
& his tatting I believe she resents it.
I wouldn’t have her angered at me for the world. I used to tease you, as you know, but I had
to discontinue that.” Anna wrote
back that he shouldn’t worry about angering Edith.
James also
expressed his happiness that Ralph was low on the draft due to being the
primary breadwinner on the family farm (Ralph’s father died in 1916). James
wrote “I bet Ralph feels pretty good about the way he came out in the
draft. I am sure I feel glad. If I am one of the army boys yet that does
not make me wish to see others in the service.
I am especially anxious to see all farmer boys stay on the farms. They can do more to win the war working there
than they could do in the army.”
Anna and James
continue to exchange information about the family squabble with her Uncle John
– John Miller, her mother’s brother. On March 2, he writes “I am sorry
indeed that Uncle John’s people have no use for me. I cannot remember when I wronged them and if
I have unwittingly done so I am sorry. I
surely did not mean them any harm. I
often offend unmeaningly but perhaps I can repay them some day.” Anna wrote back telling him not to worry
about it and hoping that it would all come right in the end.
Wilford was Anna’s ‘baby brother,’ and was
at home the whole time of her marriage. He was 17 in 1918. He is mentioned
frequently in her letters and on March 11 she reported to James that “I must
tell you some more trash - Wilford took me on his knee today at the dinner
table and fed me nearly a slice of bread.
He is quite cute by spells.”
James makes one reference related to the
settlement of his late father’s estate (his father, Daniel Calhoun, died a week
before he married Anna): I know from what mother has written that she fears
trouble in getting the estate settled.
Most of the troubles are really imaginary ones and will never
occur. Harry will make her no trouble or
none else. I am very sure I shall never
give her any trouble no matter how she settles things. I want her to have every use and privilege of
what is rightfully hers and furthermore I care not. Mother has never had to carry such
responsibility before and I think she fears the task.
Other People in Bovina
March 20
from Anna - I don’t think I’ve written anything to you about Mrs. Copeland at
Pittsburg. I think you know who she is,
a sister of Marshall Thomson. She has
been real poorly all winter and has been in the hospital part of the time. A 10 ½ pound son was born to them Sabbath day.
A short time ago she was sure herself that she would never live but she
is doing nicely now. Mrs. Copeland
is Laura Amelia Thompson (her brother Marshall was married to Helen Blair). And
Mrs. Copeland did survive her confinement and died in 1958. The child was
Andrew Laird Copeland, who lived until 2001.
Anna speculated about Mrs. Frank Coulter in
March. Mrs. Coulter was the former Agnes May Craig and was the mother of Grace
Coulter Roberts. I must tell you that I think there is something doing up to
Frank Coulters. I am not sure but the
last I saw her I thought so and she doesn’t come to church any more.” She
wrote later in the month I saw Mrs. Frank Coulter today and what I told you
a week ago I feel sure is true, but a week later she wrote Mrs. Frank
Coulter was at the meeting today and I do not feel very sure yet of what I have
written before. If she was speculating that a baby was on the way, she was
wrong. Mrs. Coulter would have been 33 and had had three children, her last a
child who died shortly after birth in 1911, so it was possible.
Anna’s Home Life
On March 7, Anna reported that “Something
very funny has happened tonight. We have
had very distinct northern lights and they have spread all over head of
us. And now at 11 o’clock they have all
turned red. There is so much red in the
sky that the snow looks red. There must
be something queer connected with it but I don’t know what.”
Her letter on Sunday, March 17, reported
that “This has been a beautiful day.
The snow and ice has moved alright today. Lifgrens were down to church
with a sleigh and they had very poor scrubbing coming back. We all went today.
There were 130 something at S.S. J.C. Strangeway came and asked me to teach a
class downstairs and I asked him what one it was and when I came to find out it
was one which Lois O[rmiston] substitutes for and so he went and got her. You know how anxious we all are for those
jobs. Mr. Galloway’s scripture reading
was the 22nd chap of Revelation and the 17th verse and his text.”
She went on to write “I don’t know as I
can tell you who all inquired for you today.
J.W. Thomson, Viola Russell, Mrs. J.C. Strangeway, Margaret Gladstone,
Mrs. Davidson, Jessie Stewart, Mrs. Lifgren, poor James Boggs, Aunt Bell,
Jennie Miller. I don’t who all asked the
boys and Carrie, Mac and Mrs. Frank Miller were talking to mother about you and
Mable is clear out of patience at them not sending you home to recruit up at
least.” In 1921, Viola Russell would become her sister-in-law when she
married her brother Wilford.
On March
20, she wrote that “I have mixed some oatmeal bread tonight. I am using your receipt now for it. I made one batch before and we all liked it. I got the receipt from Cora she says you sent
it home to her when you were in the West and that makes it all the better to
me.”
 |
| This likely is the recipe my grandmother is talking about. It was recently discovered in a set of letters and postcards James received while he lived in Iowa and Colorado. Amazingly, this is very similar to a recipe that I have used since the late 1980s to make bread. |
I’m presenting the following of my grandmother’s letters
in full because I think it gives a good idea of what her life on the family
farm was like at this time period:
Bovina
Center, NY, Mar 18, 1918
My dear
James;
I will start my daily message to you now while we are writing for our
company to come. This has been a real
busy day. To begin with Mr. Lifgren
called at 5 o’clock and wanted Ralph to take Mrs. Lifgren to Andes with his
car, she is away to the city. Edith
& I did all the milking except 3 cows.
Wilford hitched up his team and drawed out one load of manure. Edith & I fed the cows the hay and by
that time Ralph came home and we all had our breakfast.
Alfred & Viola have been and gone. We have had a nice time. Alfred isn’t as bashful as he used to be and
he is fleshier. We, of course, had a
good came of pewinkle and the three boys beat the girls by 106 to 91.
Viola brought our mail she brought me a letter from you written Mar.
14 also one from Mother written the same day.
They are all real well. She sent
me the pictures which I ordered two of.
I am enclosing one to you. I wish
you only had turned your face. You would
have looked so much better.
I will proceed to tell more of our work of today.
After breakfast Edith went out to water cows and I at the weeks
washing. After we finished the washing I
washed out a piece of carpet. The boys
finished tapping and Wilford went after 2 tanks of sap. We have 410 buckets out. Edith & I again tonight did most of the
milking. I feel quite tired tonight
after doing this days work and preparation for company and all. I need not complain about work when I know of
what you have to do. I wish I might to
some of your work for you. I think the
reason you did not get a letter from me the day you wrote was likely because of
one not going out Sabbath. It must be
very dissagreeable when the sand blows so much.
I do not like to think of you as a negro but I expect you will get well
tanned. Leila and Mike finished tapping
today.
Mother said they had tapped some.
She also said she had hoped you would get home. Yes I remember not to write anything of help
to the Germans.
I seem to have more cold tonight but don’t worry please it is just a
little in my head and have caught a little more by washing. I have felt well slept out today and if I can
only get more sleep right along. I shall
feel better of course I am loosing some now but I must write to you in spite of
it all.
Edith side has been better today of which I am glad. I shall close wiht lots of love.
Your most loving wife Anna
Milk Testing Association
When James was drafted, he was the area’s
milk tester. His job was to visit the local farms and test their cows and their
milk for butterfat content. He had been hired through a local milk or cow
testing association.
On March 4, James wrote in his
self-deprecating way that he “received a postal from W.T. Russells and
family showing they have not forgotten the milk tester with his evil ways and
the trouble he used to cause. I guess
milk testing among Bovina farmers is a thing of the past. Do you hear anything to the effect that
another association will be started up again.
It seemed strange that no one could be gotten to do the job. I was so poor at it I believe the farmers
were all glad to have the association drop through don’t you? Well perhaps testing doesn’t amount to much
but we are going to test our dairy if we ever get the opportunity to possess
such and we are going to test them thoroughly and we won’t need outside help to
do it either because we can do it if cow testing associations have gone out of
existence. Can’t we because I
shall need your help very much.”
Anna responded that You will know before
you get this letter that a new tester has arrived at last. I am sorry to say that were not in it. No, the farmers were not glad to see the
association fall through and I know how much they all thought of the tester
even before. I dared hope to own
him. You sure have many friends in
Bovina and always will have I know.”
Their Future
Anna made a couple of references in her
March letters concerning their future places, specifically concerning having a
family. “I had some advice given me today.
Aunt Jane Miller always wanted children and couldn’t have any so
she told me to have them if I could…. You talk of our family, it would be
wicked of me to put my foot down and say “no” when you want one so much. Anna said the other day that she bet we would
both be disappointed if we never did. The
aunt Jane she mentions likely is her great Aunt Mary Jane Banker Miller, the
wife of Gib Miller. They were married for over 50 years but did not have any
children.
The Ward
place is still waiting for you I guess or at least it stands there idle. I do not know about the pasture. (I well remember teasing you about the
place). This may be a farm that
was on Pink Street. From what I can work out, it is now the Hal Wilkie farm. On
March 24 she makes another reference to this farm: “I know I laugh when I
think of you on the Ward place with the old ‘Biddy’ hen and your
wife. I should be willing even to go on
that place if we could only be permitted to live together.”
Anna wrote in later March that “I am not
worrying about the home you provide. I
know what a happy one it will be. I am
afraid on my part that I cannot be what a wife ought to be to such a man as you
but I am so anxious to make a trial at it just the same. I do so much planning for that home and hope
and pray we may soon realize it.”
The War
As in previous months, James writes about
some of the news about the war. He also has a couple of exchanges concerning a
possible change of camp.
On March 5, James wrote that “I do not
hear so very much about the war and practically nothing about the coming of
peace. Things seem to move along pretty
slow. I wish we could get at it and get
the job finished. This everlasting
waiting is getting unendurable. I have
been engaged in the war business about three months and it seems like three
years. When the war finally does come to
an end those who are left will be so glad they will be uncontrollable. Some people try to make believe they like
war but I know well enough [that] they are either crazy or else they are
terrible liars.
He comments on the war toward the end of the
month on March 26: “Battles are raging in Europe now and this may mean the
last great drive of the war. The Germans
are sacrificing thousands of men in an attempt to beat the allies before Uncle
Sam can get enough men there to prevent a victory for the Allies but the Allies
are holding them back good yet and Germany is losing thousands of men.”
James also wrote about the status of Camp
Greene: “There was talk of this camp being abandoned a short time ago but
authorities have decided to maintain the camp and complete draining it so that
the place will be more healthy. It is
not a fit place for a camp and it is a wonder that half the soldiers did not
die during the rainy muddy spell we had here this winter. For most two weeks it rained every day almost
without fail and these has been other times since I have been here that have
been nearly as bad. Those who lived
through such conditions as we had here this winter will go through most
anything alive.”
On March 8, he writes “I did not wish to
worry you by telling you the fact that this regiment is soon to go to Camp
Merritt but since you have guessed the truth I may as well admit it. I think we will be in Camp Merritt some time
possibly a month and I am going to try and get a furlough to come home from
there and if I cannot I thought perhaps you and someone else could come down
there for a day or two. I still have
hopes that I shall be discarded as unfit for oversea service when we are
finally ex- arrived at the port of embarkation but of course that is only a
hope.”
Though it’s not stated obviously in their
subsequent exchanges, it appears that James may have been reprimanded for
writing about the move. A few days later, he wrote to Anna, telling her that “…under
no consideration write to me regarding [the change of camp] because all
information which might be useful to the Germans is strictly forbidden and
anyone writing such if caught will be severely punished. I know one fellow who
was given a sentence of 6 months in the guard house for telling in a telegram
something concerning the movement of his regiment and especially the time and place
of movement of troops. Please do not
write a word that you know but just wait patiently…. Keep writing here but do not telegram. You may feel that I am sending undue[?]
advice but dear Anna I would not have us get into trouble for the world besides
we must play true to our country.
All will come right in time.”
James did go to Camp Merritt briefly in
early April.
As in past letters, there are occasional
references to the possibly of James being discharged. On March 6, he writes I
am glad to know Edith still thinks I will get a discharge but am afraid she is
doomed to disappointment as I am billed to fight Germans. I will take a discharge if they give it me
but do not expect it. I will discharge
my gun at the Germans the first chance I get.
Anna writes on March 8 that “Will and
Anna say that Mrs. Lee says the boys at Camp Greene will never have to go
across as they are to be on home guard a sort of standing army. I would feel better if that were true. I cannot bear to think of you going
across. Will felt sure you would get
home when you were sick. And he said he
could have swore you went by in the stage the other day.”
On March 15, Cora thinks you might not
have to go across because she thinks the drafted boys do not have to go across
if they don’t want to. I know you want
to do what you can but I wish you might not have to go.
James and Anna also exchange information
about some of the people they know who are in the war. On March 2, James noted
“that Lauren Archibald was in officer’s training camp. He will be trying for a lieutenant’s
commission which should be quite easy for him to get as he has a good education
and plenty of ambition for work or study.” In the same letter, he commented
on the fact that Helen Thomson and her family did not get to see her brother
Millard Blair “before he had to leave.
Notice to leave usually comes very suddenly, I think.” Anna noted
that “It is pretty tough not to let [Millard] home before sending him
across. He hasn’t been home since he
enlisted.” She also noted that “Blairs haven’t heard from Millard yet
and they feel sure that he is on his way across.”
On March 8, Anna reported that “George
Miller rode from Will Stories up to the Center with me. Their son Clark is in France.” Clark
would become Bovina’s first World War I fatality in May. She also wrote with
more news about Millard Blair, writing that “Blair’s got word today that
Millard is in France. Got across
alright.” The long gaps in communication from overseas would become a
problem for many. Anna reported on March 18 that “Davidson’s haven’t heard
from Fletcher in 4 weeks, his mother is quite worried about it and I think she
has need to be.”
End of March
The last
letter Anna wrote to James that has survived was dated March 25, 1918:
Mar. 25,
1918
My dear
James;-
I have fallen back into my old tracks again. It is now after 10 o’clock. I got interested in some crocheting I was
doing , of course it is something for our home and it is no wonder I got
so much taken up with it do you think? I
have to put the trimming on it yet but I have it all made. I have seen a difference on myself since I
have been going to bed earlier. I have
felt quite good today.
We did not get our mail today so consequently I didn’t get a letter
from you. I am disappointed though but
we had sap together and I can send with Marshall in the morning for the
mail. I sent the Reporter, Express and
Recorder to you this morning.
This has been quite a cool day with just a few flakes of snow in the
air. They gathered 5 tanks of sap today
and boiled some more today but I will not try to tell how much.
We did our washing today and the clothes were all dry after dinner so
we brought them in and I got them already to be ironed and then spent the rest
of the afternoon patching. You know in
these hard times we have to make everything last as long as possible.
There is a great fight going on now over across. I do pray that this may end the war. Would you like to have me send you a
quarterly again? If you do I will get
one and send or do they just make and extra burden to you?
I thought it had come warm enough weather so I wouldn’t need the soap
stone anymore but my feet are cold now and I shall have to warm them on mother see
what you are missing.
It does seem as though I ought to be able to write a much nicer letter
than this but I fail to find any thing to write about but promise you something
better tomorrow night.
Please accept my deepest love dear James. I am still hoping and praying that we may
soon be together “forever and always.”
Your most loving wife.
Anna
James’s letter of March 27 shows that he is on the move again. He
gave no indication in his previous letter that a move was happening.
Somewhere
in U.S.
Mar 27,
1918
My dear
Anna;
Am sending you just a few lines today to let you know I am very well
and getting on good.
This is a beautiful day and just the right temperature for comfort.
I am ready to tour and will send you my new address as soon as
possible so you better not write for a few days.
The boys are all feeling much happier since the weather has become
warmer.
Threes are green here and grass is getting quite a start. Looks like June 1 up in New York.
We have just had our dinner and hope soon to be on the move. There is not very much that I can tell today
but do not worry about me, you will hear from me in a few days O.K.
Your most loving husband,
James
The last letter James wrote in March is
about as vague as the previous letter:
Mar 29,
1918
My dear
Anna;
There is not much that I can write but will send you this meager note
to let you know I am well and getting on good.
I will not give my address now as I believe such is not permitted. I should love to hear from you but I think it
best not to tell my whereabouts.
Everything is more homelike here and we feel better. The weather has been beautiful since I last
send a letter to you.
Please do not think that I do not care because I have written so
little because I should like to write a nice long letter.
With a great deal of love,
James
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