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Two letters Rosieres, France, near Bar-Ie-Duc |
| Dear Bess: | February 1, 1919 |
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It seems as if the first move has been made to take us home. An order has been put forth canceling all leaves and furloughs and setting a date for us to turn in our guns, horses, etc. and start for Le Mans, which is a clearing place for home. . . . You've no idea how I'll hate to give up my guns, my French 75s, those implements of destruction which the Hun has said were weapons of the devil. You know I told you in a letter from Coetquidan that if I could only give the command that fired one volley at the Hun I would go home willingly and be satisfied. Well there were some ten thousand rounds--or if fired in volleys, over two thousand volleys--fired by those guns at Heinie and they did it all at my command. They are the same guns that I learned to shoot with and with the exception of one barrel, which I had to leave in the Argonne with a shell lodged in it, there have been no repairs on them. If the government would let me have one of them, I'd pay for it and pay the transportation home just to let it sit in my front yard and rust. Men you know--gunners and section chiefs especially--become very much attached to their guns. They name 'em Katie, Lizzie, Liberty, Diana, and other fantastic and high-sounding names and when they fire them they talk to them just as if they were people. French gunners even cry when their guns are taken away from them. Guns do have an individuality. No two of them shoot alike and weather conditions will affect each of them differently. I don't suppose I'll ever fire another shot with a 75 gun and know I won't with these I'm so attached to and it makes me rather sad. It's like parting with old friends who've stood by me through thick and thin and now I have to give 'em to some ordnance chap to put away and maybe later some fop out of West Point will use 'em for target practice and declare they're no good because he don't know how to shoot 'em. . . . I am hoping to see you by April 1. Be sure and keep on writing on a chance that orders may be changed. I love you Always, Harry |
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[Rosieres, near Bar-Ie-Duc] |
| Dear Bess: | February 18, 1919 |
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I wrote you day before yesterday but I very much fear you won't get it. The mail orderly doesn't know whether he got it or not and I can't find it. I had just gotten some letters from you and naturally told you how glad I was. Also I told you that we are coming home right away. I know it officially now because General Pershing shook hands with me--and told me so. I also met the Prince of Wales, as did every other company and battery commander in the 35th Division. . . . Please get ready to march down the aisle with me just as soon as you decently can when I get back. I haven't any place to go but home and I'm busted financially but I love you as madly as a man can and I'll find all the other things. We'll be married anywhere you say at any time you mention and if you want only one person or the whole town I don't care as long as you make it quickly after my arrival. I have some army friends I'd like to ask and my own family and that's all I care about, and the army friends can go hang if you don't want 'em. I have enough money to buy a Ford and we can set sail in that and arrive in Happyland at once and quickly. Don't fail to write just 'cause I'm starting home. Yours always, Harry |
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