November 16, 1918 -- Ideals and Peace Bells

14^th Somewhere in France.16/11/’18

Dear Sister & All:

            Horray.  Mere words are futile to express my (and I might say our) feelings as the Armistice and the Political Revolution in Germany progress, and we realize that  the things and IDEALS the ALLIES have so nobly fought and sacrificed for are actually beginning to be realized.  While in name it is only an Armistice, the terms, and the attitude of the German soldiers and Government is our greatest assurance that the fighting and blood-shed is over, and that once more PEACE BELLS can chime out a real message of “Good Will to MEN” on Christmas Day. 

            I can scarcely realize yet that the guns are really ALL still for the first time in four long years, and once in awhile I stop and listen to the QUIET that reigns, to convince myself that I am not dreaming.  That may sound rather queer, but after six months of the ceaseless roar of cannon and shell one can almost hear and feel the stillness.  So tho in the light of present events, we may be unable to give the folks back home much in the line of material gifts, I hope we can at least give you a VICTORIOUS PEACE for which the Democratic world has sacrificed so much.  And after, what could be more fitting GIFT to commemorate the birth of Him who gave His life for the same ideals of Brotherhood, Charity, and Equality the Allies have successfully preserved. 

            So in case the mails are delayed and this is the last letter you receive from me before the holidays, I’ll just take this opportunity to wish you ALL a MERRY XMAS AND a VERY JOYFUL NEW-YEAR. And tho I can’t be with you in the flesh I’ll be there in spirit and any little or big worry you may have felt for my safety must be laid on the shelf while you prepare that Celebration for the day when “Johnnie comes marching home.” 

            I continue to get the Keystone regularly and sure enjoy them.  We saw some real American vaudeville the other night.  One joke was so very appropriate that I remember it:  An old darky Captain noticed that his men were continually scratching so he lined them up in company front one morning to investigate.  The following monologue is significant. “Ah thinks some ‘o you uns be’n got cooties.  All dat am ma’ch strait forrud. ** COMPANY HALT.”  [In the next few weeks George will be sharing his OWN on-going personal experience with "cooties."] I expect that unless we go away forward as part of the army of occupation we will see a good many much entertainments, as there are several troupes of entertainers over here now.

            Well, I intended to make this a nice longer letter as it has been so long since I wrote you, but I seem to have run out of ideas again, so I think I had best bring this to a close before I make any more bad breaks in spelling. Once more, three rousing cheers for the good old “STAR SPANGLED BANNER.” 

                                    Love and Best Wishes to You All, GSS

P.S.  Just a little line to let you know that the moon is doing his duty these nights, and to thank you for the letter you forwarded from Margaret and Dora.  This letter is a carbon coy of one I sent her, so don’t send it on to her, as I know she would never forgive me while you may.  Don’t you think it is nice and handy to have a sister at each home, so all I need to say is “Dear Sister & All” and go right on pounding the keys.  I started this letter, or at least one to you folks, three times before I got this done.  Have really been too busy to write.

                                                With love again to all, George Sherwood

 

May 7, 1918 -- George Goes to Sea

 

 [The actual date on this letter is known from the letter George sent on Nov 28, 1918 after the Armistice where George tells us exactly when they left NY and when they arrived in France.  The number of days at sea are scratched out, apparently by the censor, but the humorous thing is that the letter has a "passed censor" date of May 11, 1918, so for all intents, the dates might as well have been left on the letter!]

 On board the good ship -------

D. O. A.   [Dear Ones All]                                                                                                May ?   1918

There, I reckon there isn’t much there to censor.  Anyway, we are on our way at last, pulling out away from dear old Uncle Sam, so that we may do our bit and best to preserve that grand Uncle with all his “liberty” for our glorious and triumphal return. 

You know there is really nothing to write about.  The only reason I do is because when I have a little time I feel like talking to you, and so I sit down and write, but of what?  Anyway, it is a little enjoyment to me and I know you all well enough

[changes to typewriting] to know that you will be interested in anything I write about no matter how inconsequential. 

 

            Next day

All night the screws have been churning the water, carrying us farther and farther away from AMERICA and YOU.  To what, When & Where? 

No land in sight, but all kinds of clear blue water sparkling in the sun today.  

Still on board the good ship???

   “      May ??????  1918

[returns to handwriting]

To day is our [no. scratched out] day out.  More sunshine & water.  But as you know, I have always enjoyed the water any way, so I enjoy this trip more than many, even in spite of the discomforts.  Am sending you a copy of the “Hatchet,” our ship’s paper with its little local news and jokes, also its wireless reports from outside.  Yesterday P.M. we had quite a bit of entertainment on the aft hatch in the way of acrobatics, music and boxing.  Expect more today.  Still well.  And love to all again. 

[no. scratched out] day out.

Again I’ll say hello and goodbye.  Slightly rough and several soldiers helping to provide for the poor hungry fish already.  I may come to it myself before the day is over.  Love to all.  Will mail this to-nite if possible.

                                                            George.