{ title: 'The Rio Grande rattler. ([McAllen], Hidalgo County, Tex.) 1916-1917, March 23, 1918, Page 7, Image 7', download_links: [ { link: 'http://www.loc.gov/rss/ndnp/ndnp.xml', label: 'application/rss+xml', meta: 'News about NYS Historic Newspapers - RSS Feed', }, { link: '/lccn/sn87030234/1918-03-23/ed-1/seq-7/png/', label: 'image/png', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn87030234/1918-03-23/ed-1/seq-7.pdf', label: 'application/pdf', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn87030234/1918-03-23/ed-1/seq-7/ocr.xml', label: 'application/xml', meta: '', }, { link: '/lccn/sn87030234/1918-03-23/ed-1/seq-7/ocr.txt', label: 'text/plain', meta: '', }, ] }
Image provided by: New York State Military History Museum
GAS ATTACK 5 A SOLDIER’S LETTER TO HIS SWEETHEART. Dere Mable I aint arrested no more. Im back to work again. I aint w o rreing though cause if things keeps on the way there goin 111 be arrested again pretty soon. I know now why they call it arrest. No drill or nothin. All a fello has to do all day is go around w ith a pick and shovel and dig. W ere still firin away at the range but we havnt hit it yet. If they keep firin amu- nishun around much longer they wont have nothin left to fire at the Germ ans but the guns. Eh Mable? T h a ts the kind of thing Im always sayin in line. Keeps the fellos from gettin depressed. I learned one thing about artilery. It aint as dangerous as I thought. They fire at w h a t they call a targ e t but it aint like any targ e t I ever saw. It aint got circles round it or nothin. Every tim e they shoot they m ake a little dot on a piece of paper to show w h ere the torpedo hit. The idea seem s to be to hit all around the target but never to land one on top of it. If I was out there Id m ake a be line for the target and sit tight till it was all over. Then someone says “The center of im p act hit the target clean as a w h issle.” And they all seem aw ful pleased. From all Ive seen if the Ger m a n s will ony land me on the head w ith a center of im p act I wont feel Ive got any kick coming. I was out w ith Angus McDonald on a still hunt the other day an an autym o bile came along w h at belonged to a fello w h at had two sons in the arm y. I could tell cause it had a flag on the front w ith two stars on it. It stopped in front of us. The fello w h at owned it belonged to the calvary cause he had a yello hat cord on. He leaned out and says “Dont you see th a t flag?” I says “yes, sir, I was just sim p athizing w ith em.” T h a t kind of went home I guess cause he got red and says “You report this thing to your bat tery com m ander im m edeately.” So when I got home I told him that a fello w h a t owned a big car and had two sons in the army. I had to call him out from mess to tell him an he says w h at the this th a t and the other did he care. If you do w h at your told you get in trouble and if you dont you do to. The Captins gone to F o rt Silly now to lern som ething. I just told Angus McDon ald I thought hed get more at Fort Leven- worth. But thats a technickle joke, Mable. Of course you wont get it. I guess the L ieutenant thought he was in the auduence departm e n t or som ething up to now cause right away after the Captin left he came down and said now he was goin to m ake a battery out of us. I told him I knew where they was a good dry cell ju s t above New York. T h a t fello wouldnt laff though, Mable, if joe Miller him self told him a joke. All he thinks of is sm o o thing out horses. The feeling betw e e n me and the horses seem s to grow worse every day, Mable. I think my horse has got me mixed up with somebody else. I never did nothing to him except bring him down some of my break fast one morning. The sergeant is always tellin me to pick up his feet. I tell him theres no call for that. He seem s to be able to do it pretty well all by him self. He has em in the air m o st of the tim e when Im around now. He kept pesterin me though till the other day I thought Id show him I could do it. I put his front foot through the spoke of a w h eel and tied it then grabbed the back one and gave an awful heave. Its a way Ive worked out for handling bad horses. I figured he have to be pretty good to stand on one leg and kick me w ith the other. But when he found he couldnt kick me he lay down on top of me. Mean, 111 tell the world. Now the stable sergeant says I hurt the horse. T h a ts stable sargents all over. If the horse had bit my head off hed have thought it was an awful joke. All I say is that I’m not as strong as a horse even if I did win a lot of cups at high school and if I can stand on to legs a horse can too only hes too lazy. Joe Gluckos and Angus and me goes over to see the m ountin ear w h at sells bevo once in a while. W ere trying to catch him some day when hes wild. He aint been wild so far ceptin one day when we forgot to pay him. Angus says they only get wild certain tim es of the year. Angus wont drink bevo. He says it looks the sam e and tastes the sam e but it aint got the sam e influence w ith him. The m o u n tin ears hate niggers. This one has been tryin to get us to go on w h a t he calls a coon hunt ever since we been up here. W ere goin w ith him this week. They hunt them at night. I suppose thats so you cant see them so well. He takes the dogs sos they can smell the coon. I guess hes got a cold. The coon climbs a tree, then you cut the tree down and then the coon of course has to come down to. I wonder w h a t they do w ith them when they get them . It seems foolish to go to all that trouble when there standin all over Sparkingsburg. Angus has got a rubber bath tub sent him. He thinks it great cause you can fold it so sm all it goes in your pocket. Who w a n ts to carry a bath tub round in there pockets? I guess its a skotch custom. Perhaps they TO THEE, 0 BUSY BUGLER. O thou, whose lungs seem just as m etal bound As th a t weird horn from which your awful sound B u rsts forth at dawn; O thou, barbaric lad, A heathen player now in khaki clad, W hat makes you so devoted to a horn T h a t crashes through sweet slum bers every morn? Why don’t you choose some softer reed to play, Some dim H aw aiian strings for reveille, The which, instead of rousing, like a pain, Would lull the dream ing men to sleep again? Almost ’twould be preferred to hear you sing, Than let reverberate that awful thing. Regardless of the w eather, fair or damp, How oft you call us forth throughout the camp. Your puckered lip, your straining face, All eager when you hold the horn in place. W h at zeal is this? W h at m isspent pride you take, As if you breathed your plaints for m usic’s sake! Tattoo and call to quarters, yes, perhaps T h e re’s music there, and softly sounding taps, But oh! the agony, a m oonlit hour, W hen by m ishap you h it the last note sour. Ju s t when we hoped your call would softly speak You end, alas, upon a skyw ard squeak. But cruelest of all, with brutal might, Are you: a novice practicing at night. ’Tis then I think your notes, your mind and will, Are bent on stirrin g men w ith lust to kill. CHARLES DIVINE. take it out while there w aiting for a street car and take a bath. Angus likes it cause he can sit down in it. W hen he does it fits him like it was tailor made. All the rest of the bath slides off him onto the floor or into my shoes W ell Mable I got to quit now and help out one of the sergents w h at has a job clean ing some harness. Hes a nice fello and he asked me to come down about two hours ago. I guess 111 go down now and see if there through. W illin. Thats me all over, Mable. yours patriotically BILL.
