Sept. 19, 1918
Dear Mother –
I am sorry to delay writing but have been chasing the Bosche so much the last month that it was impossible. I suppose you saw in the papers that the Americans start everything. Well, that is us. This division has had a very hard obstacle to get over, but we did it. The ground was very hilly and very hard to fight over, but we made old Fritzie run. We are out of the line for a few weeks rest unless something turns up. I am going to try to get a pass for London to see Uncle Jim, but I don’t know whether they will give it to me or not. We are going to get a new uniform and get the confounded cooties off of us. You should have seen the boys when they came out of the line. Most of them hadn’t shaved in over a month and quite often and our clothes were torn. I thought that when I came out, I would let my moustache grow, but I got yellow. I am still in the signal platoon and the Lieutenant who is in charge has lots of nerve. He goes out with us to lay wire and generally goes before us to locate where it is supposed to go. Most of them send out a sergeant or corporal to be in charge. He seems to be very cool under shell fire, and believe me, it is some job to be so cool when the shells are whizzing all around us. The shells drop so often and close at times that fellows say their prayers quite often and, believe me, it puts the fear of God in everybody. There isn’t any division that has been over as long as us that has been through what we have been through. It feels fine to be able to work and get cleaned up. I didn’t know what it was to really need a bath and, believe me, it feels good to be able to sleep where the shells don’t go off all the while. I haven’t seen any of the coast artillery boys from Danbury since the last time I wrote. I haven’t received any mail in about a month, but I know there are some over here, will probably get some today. The villages we passed through where the big drives took place, not a single house is left standing. The artillery fire is so great that every inch of ground is dotted with shell holes. The trees are all riddled with bullets and a lot of them are crushed into kindling wood. Most of us don’t know how we got out of it alive. We are going to have a formation this morning, so will write again soon. Hoping you and Father are well and hope to see you soon. Write soon and often. I remain,
Your Son
