March 16, 1919 -- Consigned to the Flames & Prairie Division

Echternach, Luxembourg

March 16, 1919

To All the Dear Ones at Home:

            Sometimes I wonder if you don’t get rather tired of these letters sent to you all collectively, but there isn’t news or time to write each one separately, and after all I presume it is as much joy or sorrow to read my poor attempt at correspondence all together as it would to write short missives to each.

            This is Sunday and as I’m sitting on the bed in my room with a book as a writing pad, instead of being in the office.  Just went thru a bunch of the old letters for home, dating back as far as Nov and reluctantly consigned all but two to the flames as it is impossible to keep much of that sort of thing around when it comes to a move.  While no moves seem to be contemplated for awhile, I would much rather go thru them (the letters) at leisure and treasure up their messages in my heart and pick out a few to keep a little longer, than to have to throw them to the fire in an impersonal bundle when orders do come.  I hope they come soon as I think I need a change of scene. I feel like a bird in a cage.

            The ankle is getting along as well as can be expected under the circumstances.  Now use only our cane and while it is very sore and pains while walking or using it, it seems to be slowly improving.

            There is a little rumor now that we may go home via Germany & Holland.  Wouldn’t that be a proper and fitting sequence of events and windup for the career of the Fighting Yellow Cross Div in Europe.  Am sending a little write up one of the divisions men got up.  [A transcribed version I had done almost ten years ago can be more easily read there]

            We have had some wonderful weather the past week but today is cloudy and cool and not so pleasant.  Expect to go to the cinema this evening as there is a continuance of the show we saw there last week which is pretty good.  Don’t you want to go along?
            Worked over at the office all of the morning and ought to be there this P.M. but don’t propose to do it as my system is crying for relaxation.  Someway, they can’t seem to be able to let us office force get away from it holidays or Sundays any more than they did in campaign times.  I wonder what they think mere men are made of.  It isn’t making me any thinner but never had my nerves as raw or felt so keyed up as I have the last two months.  But the old German saying applies very well. “So geht es im krieg.”  Will I know how to act on a Sunday back in civilian times I wonder?

By now I hear you all worrying and saying “poor overworked boy.” So I’ll hasten to add that there is probably no need for worry, and I guess what ails me most is “I want to go home.” Now we are stared in the face with the proposition that our files do not meet the Gov’t requirements, so the general upheaval for the next month won’t probably leave me much time for lengthy or interesting letters. Expect Johnnie and Willets back from leave this week which will make us less short handed, tho.
The enclosed service stripe is my very first one, and was worn on my overcoat till we got some new ones at Aix-les-Baines. The ticket took me to the top of Mt. Revard and back while we were at Aix on the cogwheel railroad. The yellow slip is a check from a ticket to the local cinema. May have sent one of those before. Now I’ve got to ring off and shave.
Love again and again to all.
George Sherwood
108th Engineers, Amer. E. F.
Censored: P.S. Thompson
Captain U.S.A.

 

End of letter -

Enclosed is mass produced report on The Prairie Division by William Lewis Judy

 

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March 5, 1919 -- George Ruminates on Life and the Germans

Echternach, Luxembourg

March 5, 1919

 Dear Home Folks:

            I’m at it again you all.  Say if you get all of these letters I’ve written the last three weeks you’d die of surprise or at least you ought to.  But with spring in the air, a lot to do (all indoors at a desk), the then laid up so you can’t even do that except when there is a car to spare to take  you to and from work, I’ve just got to write or go plumb crazy.  Guess I’m nearly in that state now.  The ankle hasn’t pained so much today, but nobody came to take me to work so I’ve read and thot and “Want to be Home,” till I feel like I could bite spikes in two.  You see how lucky you are not to have such a ferocious young man home, don’t you.  But if something doesn’t turn up to break the monotony, and use up this surplus steam and growing restlessness there will be no living with me by the time we do get there.  Guess you better build me a padded cell.

            The worst of it is, I really don’t seem to want to work, so why should I not enjoy an enforced rest?  Here it is a beautiful world, a sunny happy sort of spring day, but there is a fly in the broth somewhere and I can’t seem to pick him out.  The only enjoyment I seem to be really getting is in writing to you, and tho there really is nothing the matter, I’m afraid the tone of my letters may worry you or make you blue.  Oh, for a good pair of legs and a Tennis Court.  When I used to feel about 1/10 this way at Lawrence I got it out of my system that way usually.  They say that “Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do,” but even that old “Devil” seems to have forgotten me as I can’t think of anything really wickedly original to pull.  Yep!  It’s a gay old world “Nit” as the Luxembourger says for no.  I believe a few good old Jerry shells would be welcome as a diversion tho thank God for the rest of the world’s sake as well as the safety of my worthless neck they “Scream no more.” 

And if the Peace Conference uses good judgment they won’t have another chance for a long, long time.  Until after the war I was rather undecided as to how harsh the Peace should be made to hit Germany, but now I know they will not hit too hard.  But will they be harsh enough?  I never dreamed it possible the war could have touched Germany so little.  How very keen they were.  Half or two thirds of the wealth of machinery they will have to pay France and Belgium for is up there in Germany, ready to begin production in her factories as soon as the industrial wheels can be oiled, the raw material procured, and government established.  You can’t make a people over in a day, it takes generations.  What if the mouthpiece of the old system is cracked and thrown away?  Another can soon replace it.  And so while France and Belgium patch up the few remaining shreds and build anew, will they let Germany get a big lead industrially with the machinery she stole, and then paid for?  I think, I hope not.  It makes me boil when I read their whining about the “Unjust Indemnities” and the cry that the Allies strive to break and ruin them.  The people of course are the ones who will suffer as always, but better this generation of them should suffer the price of their short sightedness and miss education than for France and Belgium even the world to suffer now and in the future too.

            Say, the boys say I’ve a letter from home over in the office.  I’ll croak if someone doesn’t appear with it pretty soon.  And I think I’ll wait to close this till after I have recd and read it.  Tell them Au revoir.  Bonjour!

            Here we are again.  The mail came over by orderly, and did we devour two letters from home, one from Jo and a Keystone.  You bet we did, all but the money order which arrived O.K.  Thank you so much.  I hope it didn’t embarrass you much to send it.  Maybe I was rather abrupt and hasty with that card, but hope you received my letters of explanation soon after.  Oh! How I enjoy those letters from home.  And one of these with a message from daddy, mother and Susan.  It was splenglorious.  I know Herman is really busy but has he developed writer’s cramp.  Brother, I demand that you come thru with a letter pronto.  Otherwise I shall have to use an unfair advantage and sic your wife on you.  When you are properly henpecked I’ll bet you will write. 

Elmer Smith must have had a real exciting time of it, from his letter in the Keystone.  More power to him!  To the heroes belong the Medals – but like the Victor’s Spoils they don’t always materialize.  Well, I’ve just got to stop.  Hope you can read part of my hen scratches but I have me doots.

                                                Love to All

                                                            Geo. Sherwood

                                                            108^th Engineers

                                                            American Exp. Forces 

OK

Clyde L. Thompson

Captain  108^th Engrs.

Amer. E F.

[Postscript on back of an inside page].  Don’t know how or why I left this blank but guess it was to send you all my best love and greetings on.  

They trained us in a Southern Camp

On how to lick the Hun.

We must have learned it well

The way we made the Fritzies run.

But now they’re back across the Rhine

And their war machine is spent

Please don’t forget, Dear Uncle Sam

We too ‘nach Haus’ would ‘went.’

March 4, 1919 -- Crutches for George's First Injury of the War

 Echternach, Luxembourg

March 4^th, 1919

 Dear Ones All:
            Here we go again for a letter short but sweet.  Peace seems to be worse than War for me.  Got thru the war on my two pins, and now the Peaceful pursuits of happiness in Echternach have forced me onto crutches.  As you should be bursting with curiosity at this point I will pause to remark that it was a very nice, rainy spring day today.  And I sure had bucco work to do, as I was behind when I last wrote and Sunday evening and yesterday during my enforced absence it piled up something scandalous.  By the way Johnnie and Willet went on leave yesterday, another reason the work is doubled and I shouldn’t take the time to write this.  Well, guess your curiosity has seethed along about enough so may as well tell you the crutches afore mentioned are the result of too much bicycle and too little ankle.  Now there is the same amount of bicycle but lots more ankle. 
            About 5 PM Sunday I started from the office, which I was holding down for the afternoon, over to our room for the Sergeant Major’s Signature on a document.  As slick pavement, a little too much haste, and a stone curb or rather cobble stones caused the spill.  I was nearly in front of our abode, so the younger Kries (Victor) and one of the “boys” helped me up to the room.  I got one of the fellows to get me some liniment, but didn’t get over to see the doctor till today.  It is swelled really worse than ever and with the stains of the liniment on it really looked tough.  He jammed his fingers in it as tho it was a rubber ball for awhile, twisted my foot around then with a few last pokes, told me it was a very bad sprain.  I wonder if he thot he was telling me something new.  Also told me not to walk on it for a couple of days.  No danger.  But his advice about bathing it in warm water is good and I’ll try to do so.  Said to come in in a couple of days and have it bandaged as it is too badly swollen for that now.  Oh, it is a gay life. The lady where we live gave me a flannel bag to keep it warm, so I look like I had the gout.  Forgot to tell you not to worry, it is the left foot, not the one I hurt with the horse two years ago. 

            Now I’ve spent all my time and paper telling of my infirmities, which may not seem to make you feel any gayer, but don’t worry, I’ll be over it by the time I get home, and maybe that will be in June.

                                                Love to you all.

                                                            George Sherwood

                                                            Headquarters Company

                                                            108^th Engineers

                                                            American Exp. Forces

C.L. Thompson

Capt 108 Engrs

Amer. Ex F.