Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 196, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 August 1918 — LETTER FROM ONE OF RAINBOW DIVISION SOLDIERS [ARTICLE]

LETTER FROM ONE OF RAINBOW DIVISION SOLDIERS

July 20, 1918. Mrs. Wm. Barbour, Roselawn; Ind. Dear Sister and Family:— I will answer your kind and welcome letter which I received a few days ago. Your letter was dated June sth. I am well and feeling June sth. I am wel land feeling fine, although I have just come from the hqspital, where I was a short time. We lately came off the busy front and I don’t know where we are going. While we were at the front we sure had some battle. The Huns tried to penetrate our lines but made a complete failure and lost very heavy, and they say No Man’s Land was covered with the dead and wounded, and believe me, sister, it was a terrible sight. When the attack started we couldn’t hear ourselves think. The Germans used some gas but the wind was in our favor. We didn’t lose any men in our battalion but we lost some horses. I think the Boche are about finished. We are having some fine weather, the farmers here have a good crop of small grain and the wheat fields are golden yellow. I looked over a field when I came from watering my horses today and seen two binders going and I seen two fields shocked. Some of the grain was twisted with the wind, but I hope they save it all as it would be a great help to the soldiers. I witnessed a Hun plane shot down the other day. I was within a few feet of it but did not get a piece of it as a souvenir. The aviators were wounded and taken prisoners. Dear sister, you wrote that all the folks were well except yourself, but you didn’t say what was the trouble. I received a very interesting letter from sister Myra today. I guess I will have to close because.we are going to make another move tomorrow and I have to wash some clothes so Jthey will be dry by tonight. With good wishes and love to all, Your brother, PVT. EDW. PEREGRINE. Bat. E, 150th F. A., A. P. O. 715, A. E. F., France.

Letter from U. S. S. New Jersey. Dearest Mother and All:-r-I am breaking my schedule. I don’t suppose you care, though. We have moved again up in the torpedo range. Of course, I can’t tell you where that is. It is very interesting to watch the firing. It starts about fifteen feet under water and is fired by compressed air. The minute she leaves the ship bubbles come to the surface and she leaves foaming water behind. You can follow her way out on the range. They have to get her as soon as she stops or she will sink, and that means a job for the divers. They have steamers and motor boats all along the course. They take after her until they are nicely left behind, then the next one takes up the chase. They are firing these to tept them out. But one of them started straight enough but when she was about 1,000 yards from the ship she turned and circled clear behind the ship and when about that far on the port side she turned back and hit the stern of the ship. It didn’t do any damage to us since it had the soft head on, but it immediately sunk and then the divers went down after it. They got it all right, but she was in a pretty sorry condition when brought aboard.

I got a letter from a girl in Chicago and she said she envied me my life on the cool ocean. I just wish she could have been aboard yesterday and the day before. If it is any hotter up there than it is down here I am perfectly willing to stay here. It was 105 in the shade here, and if you could find any shade unless you went below you were lucky. It was the worst I was ever in. It was so sultry -you couldn’t get a breath of air. You could just sit down and sit still and the perspiration would just pour off. I changed clothes twice in the same day from the skin out and they were just sopping wet. You could have wrung a quart of perspiration out of each garment. It was simply awful. I hate to think of ever going through it again. Last night though, about 9 o’clock a pretty hard storm blew up. We had a big observation balloon tied on the and the wind came up so suddenly it was carried away before it could be hauled down. They haven’t found it yet. It was very lucky that there was no one in it at the time. We were called out at about 10. It was pitch dark and the wind was blowing a very hurricane. It was the most beautiful and terrible sight I have ever seen. The waves were dashing way up in the air with all the huge search lights on the ship playing on the water to see that nothing rammed into us. It nearly carried the awning off the quarter deck, but we finally secured it. Then we had to haul in the big hausers that anchored us to the buoys. By this time it had started to rain and the drops blown by the wind stung like a whip. But we had everything secure by this time and after battening down the hatches we went below and I put in the best night’s sleep I have had since I came aboard. It cooled off wonderfully and has been bearable all day today. I am feeling fine and have nothing to complain about except that it is rather crowded here. But I must close now and wash a suit of whites and a mattress before “chow.” With love to all, FRENCH CROOKS.