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Feb 3, 1918
Feb 7, 1918
Feb 10, 1918
Feb 17, 1918
Feb 24, 1918
Dear Mother,
We were given a get-a-way problem a week or so ago to work out
details on, and I have spent most of to-day working it out. It's
due to-morrow, and Moody & I are the only ones who have it
done; I guess there will be some hustling around tomorrow.
The test which was to come hasn't yet materialized. It's somewhat
of a disappointment, for you can't expect to keep a company on
a stand still for day after day, waiting for it; so I've figured
it's better to forget it, and progress along the lines laid out
in the regular schedule, though not forgetting in my own mind
it may fall on us any day. In other words to put in the back
of their consciousness the idea of preparation for a test, which
did prevail when we were making our intensive preparations for
it. I have feared they would grow stale.
Ralph has been around off and on today. He has probably told
you Cousin Ed Baldwin was down here for supper & the evening
Wednesday. He returned to Saranac Lake on Friday.
Not a word from Sam Sewall. Must say good-night.
Lots of Love,
Sylvester
(He wrote 1917, but the postmark and content say different
-- Sue)
Dear Mother,
It was indeed a shock to learn of Edward Couch's death. It seems
so especially tragic to have them go on this side of the water;
makes it seem more like a needless sacrifice. Yet I believe conditions
in our camps are now much better than they were in any previous
wars as far as sanitation and health is concerned.
Ralph and I wish that Father or some one at home would get a
floral wreath, with ribbon of the national colors, or a couple
of small flags, suitably placed on it, to send to his funeral,
unless you see an objection to this. A card is enclosed to attach
to it. Send me the bill.
Ralph and I will probably both go down to Worcester to-morrow
evening to a dance given by Co. A (Lieut. Travers). I don't know
whether we shall see Raymond and Eleanor or not, but will of
course try to if we get the opportunity.
I am making plans to spend the week-end after this one down home.
I had wanted to arrange it at the same time Ralph would come
home next, but, as the week following Lucinthia has something
on, which he expects us to go to Wellesley for, he wouldn't be
able to work the previous week in too. But I think I won't wait
any longer; I've been away long enough, being so comparatively
near. When I was home Thanksgiving I didn't have the slightest
idea I would get home again, in fact a few seemingly substantial
little birds had told me we would be on our watery way in a couple
of weeks at that time. It seems as though I'd come to live here
now; it's surely a long wait.
Lots of Love
Sylvester
Dear Mother,
Every weekend I make a mental resolution that the next one I
will begin to write some differently sized letters, but the resolutions
vanish into thin air when the end of the week-end finds me just
ready to write letters when it's time to go to bed.
Ralph has probably told you most of the details of Lieut. Travers'
dance in Worcester, Friday evening. The train was very late in
getting there and by the time we had done supper it was almost
nine o'clock and too late to look up Raymond & Eleanor. Strangely
enough, Miss Fanny Cook and her sister were there, and I watched
the first half of the dancing program & the intermission
events with her. The second half I stood around with Jim Greene
and swapped sentiments on some people's idea of enjoyment. He
and I find ourselves in agreement on most questions that ever
come up for discussion except the good faith of members of the
legal profession, and simplified spelling. A letter of mine passed
thru his hands the other day with my one dereliction in the simplified
spelling line, "thru", which has now been a habit of
a good many years, and brought it to me and asked why I didn't
use the English language in my correspondence.
Bob Travers' dance was preceded by a minstral show given by members
of his company. He has lots of talent in his company for this
sort of thing, and it was an enjoyable show. Ralph probably told
you he was roped in to swell the chorus.
This has been a very quiet Sunday here, and has seemingly restored
me with good humor, which I had apparently dropped about a week
back; at least everyone who came in contact with me must have
thought so. The last straw was the stupidity of Middletown's
local board in rating me in Class I-A under the Selective Service
Regulations. In addition to writing the Board a formal letter
requesting the Board to reclassify me immediately in the group
comprising men in the military and naval service, I wrote Mr.
C.E. Lyman, whose signature was on the notice, a personal letter,
requesting his special attention to the matter, to get it immediately
out of the way and free me from red tape and annoyance. I've
got lots of time, I have, to fool with questionnaires, let alone
make personal trips on time needed for the service of the country,
to appeal to District Boards and what-all-not to be exempted
from service because I'm already in. A fine bit of service to
the enemy, I should say. I only got cooled down from that when
Saturday we were paid off and four of my men were not paid because
the Paying Quartermaster didn't see fit to understand my remarks
in their cases on the payroll - complicated cases they had, and
the remarks I spent no little thought & care in to try to
suit the whims of the Paymaster's Dept. Well, I've had today
to cool down from that, but to-morrow morning I go down to fight
the matter out with the Paymaster or his lieutenant old Kaiser
Hindenburg Von Hartung, who is the most Dutch Dutchman that ever
walked on two feet. His pet delight is to insult his fellow-man,
after the manner of his race, but he got his one day when he
ripped a Colonel in a raincoat up the back - the Colonel having
no insignia on his raincoat to indicate his rank.
Aside from the few individuals I have mentioned, I feel quite
charitable toward the rest of mankind.
I was mighty glad to hear of Jack's & Dick's success in getting
into Annapolis. I suppose that takes care of them for the next
four months.
Good night. Lots of love,
Sylvester
[note - there was no date but I'm fairly sure this is where
it goes as this was the weekend he was to go home, and he mentions
things in this letter, a few weeks from this. --Sue ]
Dear Mother,
The train was an hour late getting to Worcester, so missed connections.
A special was promised any minute when we got there, but it took
two hours and a half for the minute to come. So that it was almost
Taps when I got back to camp. I left my notebook with the beginning
of my nonsense verse at home, but remembered all of it &
got another notebook in the Worcester station and finished the
job for amusement while waiting. I had already composed about
three more stanzas on the train coming up, in my head. I read
them to Deck Spaulding [note - according to the AEF
roster, this man's real name is Dexter.] when I got back
because he and I had worked together some other foolishness a
while ago, so now we plan next weekend to make up a book, his
chief function being to make the cartoons to go with the verse.
On separate sheets, I'm sending the whole story. It may be embellished
some, and it hasn't any epilogue yet, but perhaps you won't get
that far. Some events & personal idiosyncrasies you may be
able to read between the lines & others not.
The cake has gone the rounds already, and of course has just
added to the dispersion of your fame in the chocolate cake field.
Andy sends his special compliments with a declaration of its
excellent quality.
Lots of love
Sylvester
Dear Mother,
Lucinthia and Winnie have been here to-day and I think have enjoyed
their visit. It was naturally pleasant to have them here.
The Gas School hasn't been irksome, as we thought it would be,
and I feel that it was quite profitable. We had a lecture for
about an hour and a half each morning and then drill with masks,
trying for speed in putting them on, marching with them on &c.
And one morning went thru the Gas chamber where one deep breath
would be fatal; first put our masks on outside & went in;
the second time went in & put the masks on there; and the
third time walked thru without any mask - the latter was optional,
though I guess most of us went thru. Ralph Gabrial attended the
course this last week, also Tom Beers so I got to see them somewhat
more than I've been accustomed to for some time.
I didn't leave during the holiday; kept working most of the time,
my chief accomplishments being the typewriting of my gas defense
notes for the week and getting together a complete list of all
property which the company & its personnel should draw -
quite a formidable list with all the repair tools and so on a
truck company has to have.
Over the week-end I have accomplished as much as I'd have liked
to for a heavy week ahead. Last night about 8 I came to the conclusion
that I'd gotten about all out of the week that I could and played
the phonograph to myself for the balance of the evening, instead
of getting up my detailed schedule for the week as I had planned.
So my daytime spare moments have gone into that to-day, and in
the evening I finally got at a job which I had hoped to put a
lot of time on during the day. Major Schoonmaker & Lieut.
June have compiled a book on Supply Train work, and the major
has invited me to go over the proof sheets which have come back
and suggest additions and corrections as wholesale as I please.
There seem to be a lot which I can suggest, and I think I have
a task ahead of me; however not an unwilling one. Also I have
yet my two "Military Art" lectures for the week to
prepare. And this is payroll & muster-roll week. And what
isn't to be crowded in I don't know.
That sheet you found in my shirt is nothing I need anymore.
I have added a pair of tan rubber boots & a pair of tan arctics
to the royal wardrobe. The heavy arctics on top of army shoes
aren't exactly what you'd want to be found with, in a few miles
depth of water with no land in sight. They feel as though you
had stepped into some liquid cement which had hardened on you,
& had had to be cut out in a square block around your feet.
Well, I must scoot under.
Lots of love
Sylvester.
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