I’m doing a special entry following the
story of my grandmother and her first husband, James Calhoun, who died in the
First World War, one of two Bovina based fatalities during the war. At the beginning of March, James was at Camp Greene, North
Carolina. On March 25 or 26, he was suddenly headed back north to Camp Merritt,
New Jersey (though he knew the change of camp was coming).
This is the story of James' last ever trip home. After his arrival in camp, James was granted a 48-hour furlough, which
started on Sunday, March 31 at noon. The timing was unfortunate. As he noted in
a letter to his mother, “My pass took effect so late in the day that I could
not get home by train that night.” James telegraphed Anna and asked her to meet
him in Kingston at 5 pm. The telegram came just as she was getting ready for church. She dropped everything and her brother Ralph agreed to dri
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| James' transit pass |
James didn’t even get 24 hours at home, and he likely spent much of it in bed because he had a fever. By Monday afternoon, James and Anna were
headed back to Kingston, so James could get a train to New York City before
noon on Tuesday, April 2, the end of his furlough. Anna and James spent the
night in Kingston before she returned on the Ulster and Delaware to Bloomville
and James took the train back to New York and to camp.
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| James and Anna did have time for a few photographs of his visit home. |
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| Anna's return ticket home |
Shortly after his return to camp, both James and Anna were writing
to Mrs. Calhoun with explanations and apologies. James’ brief stay did not allow him time to see his
mother. Anna and James were both worried about how she would react and
explained the unfortunate circumstances of his very short furlough.
James wrote
to Anna the day of his return from furlough:
About
12:0'clock
Camp
Merritt, NJ
Apr. 2,
1918
My dear
Anna;
I reached camp safely about 11 A.M. and had a good trip. I hope and pray as I write this that you are
safely back at Bloomville waiting for Edith and wish I was there too.
I do not feel so hoarse and some phlegm is loosening up today so I
shall soon feel better. The boys are
going to dinner but I do not feel hungry and the memory of the good things I
had at home takes away all my appetite for army chow.
George Vottee(?) came down from Kingston to Dumont with me so I had
company all the way. I wish you might
have had someone to keep you cheered on your lonesome ride to Bloomville.
A number of those away on pass have not yet returned and a number of
them have been away over the time granted them. A few others have returned the worse for drink.
This company goes on guard tonight but I am not on the list of which I
am glad.…
I do hope you will stand my absence better than I fear you will. I realized so fully this time when we were
together now much we really mean to each other. May God soon permit us to be together again as I feel he surely
shall.…
Will say goodbye for today.
With the greatest love a man can have for his wife.
James
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| James' first letter after returning to camp, April 2, 1918. |
James wrote twice the next day. A brief card and later a longer letter. This letter would be his to his wife before he sailed for France:
Camp
Merritt, NJ
Apr 3,
1918
My dear
Anna;
I wrote you a note and mailed it hastily this P.M. as I might not get
another chance to write you for a few day but I think I shall be able to write
you one more good long letter this evening and will try and mail it before it
is too late.
Three letters came from you tonight. Those of Mar 29-30 and the one of yesterday while you were on your
way. I was so glad to get them all and
especially glad to hear that you had a good trip but I know a lonesome one to
Bloomville. It was so nice that Aunt
Mary and Uncle Will were there and that you could go to Oneonta with them. They would do so much to cheer you up. I thank God that you have so many kind
relatives and friends.
My heart is especially full tonight and I cannot help it and it is
hard to keep back the tears but perhaps I shall feel better if I do not try but
let them come freely. I feel so sorry
for you because of all the sorrow I am causing you. I love you so and there is not or it seems
there is not one thing that I can do for you. I thought I would have an opportunity to get my picture taken at a
studio as you requested but I am most afraid I shall not be able to get from
camp now to get that done.
There are so many things I wanted to talk to you about that I could
not think of where I was with you and many of them have come to me since. I have one thing to be thankful for and that
is that you have a good home when I know you are safe and our people are all so
good. I did so little when I was home to
show my gratitude to them, I always spoil things that way because I am so quite
and stupid. I want all of our people to
realize how highly I appreciate how they have been so good to us in every
way. You will try and make them
understand, won’t you? I never can make
them feel the gratitude that I owe them all.
I want to tell you or rather ask you to believe that I will be more
faithful and true to you than I have been. I had such fond hopes but it is hard to see how they will be realized
but maybe they will. I shall pray to God
that if I do not get back that you may have greater happiness brought into your
life than you could have ever known with me.
If I stay in the army a dozen years I shall never get so I like army
life. I long so for those that I love
and I miss the evidence of the christian life in civil life and which are so
lacking here. Sometimes I just feel as
if I would like to crawl away to some quiet corner and get away from this
noisy, nerve racking hurly-burly life.
I had just finished the letter to you yesterday when I was placed on
guard and kept there till 1 P.M. today. I had no trouble and was glad I did not have to take a post alone. I had charge of tow sentries and one of them
was on the road leading into camp so I was kept busy reading passes.
Rain began falling shortly after 1 P.M. today and it has been so rainy
chilly and dreary since. I guess that
helps to make me feel blue.
I feel sorry I did not see mother and know she will take it very much
at heart. I think she will realize how
impossible it was for me to get there. I
shall write and explain it to her the best I can and I wish you would write and
tell her of my visit. She will
appreciate it so much. Mother and you
need to sympathize with each other. I
feel that you are worrying very much because of me and it is telling on your
strength. I only wish you could rest
easy but I know from experience just how impossible it is. I know I should have worried about you
traveling alone yesterday had you been obliged to change cars yesterday
although you would have gotten along good.
Please accept the deepest love a man can have for his wife and pray
and trust and hope that all will end well. Lovingly James
This was the
last letter James wrote to Anna in the United States.
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| Last page of James' last letter to his wife before he sailed for France. |
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