441 North Park Drive, Morton, MN 56270 [email protected] 507.697.6147

Letter from Thomas Senkyr, Olivia Times, 12-5-1918

Somewhere in France, Oct. 21, 1918
Dearest Folks:
Must drop you a few lines to let you know that I am still living and feeling good.
I just got back to some village that’s half smashed up by Artillery. I found a Y.M.C.A. so I have a change to write you a few lines. I was transferred from the 47th to the 58th Inf. wasn’t assigned to a company yet. Nor was I at the front. Have worked at a Ration Dump ever since I left the hospital and I am still working at it. But I believe I’ll go to some company pretty soon. It’s raining every day, mud up to the knees. But I have a fairly good dug out to sleep in and plenty to eat we have to cook it ourself but that doesn’t matter, I certainly make good cookie and fry steak three times a day.
I’ll close for this time, will write more soon as I get a chance hoping that you are all well. I remain your son and brother, Thomas Senkyr, 58th Infantry, A.E.F.

Letter from Henry T. Croup, Olivia Times, 12-5-1918

The following is a letter received from one of our Henryville soldiers, “over there” on November 11:
Somewhere in France, October 20, 1918
Dear Sister:
Received your letter yesterday, so will try and answer it now. Well how are everyone at home? I am feeling fine, and enjoying good health, and hope this shall find you all the same.
Had a letter from Aunt Amelia today. It sure makes a fellow feel good to get a letter from the home folks. It has been wet here the last few days but can say we have had some fine weather over here.
Well how rich did you get this fall? I took out another Liberty Bond, so I think I am doing my bit for Uncle Sam. Did you people take out any more bonds? I thought it would be a good way to save money, and besides it only costs me five dollars a month. A fellow sure can get rid of money fast here, no matter what you buy it costs you four prices.
Well I suppose you will be husking corn by the time you get this letter.
I wrote a letter to Will Scheffler yesterday and say what is Frank Patzwald’s address? Send it to me, so I can write him. Say and when you write number your letters, so I can tell if I get them all, as I have only gotten two from you yet, since I have been over here.
Well I guess this is about all for this time, so will come to a close, and don’t forget to write soon.
I remain as Ever, Your loving Brother, Private Henry T. Chroup, A.P.D. 714, A.E.F., via N.Y. City, Co. C. 4th A.A.M.G. Bn.

Letter from Henry Bergman, Hector Mirror, 10-31-1918

Henry Bergman
September 5, 1886 – August 19, 1969

Dear parents and all:

Well I am now safe in England. I arrived yesterday and I am feeling fine and dandy and I hope you all are the same. This is a nice place and our Lieutenant took us out for a little sight seeing trip today and we just got back. Well I stood the trip fine, I didn’t get seasick or miss a meal on the trip over. It rained when we got off the ship and went to our camp and it rains a little today but it is only a shower and then the sun shines again, and that is the way it keep on.

Well did you get those pictures I sent from Camp before I left or not? Eddie Schwietz was along on the same boat that I was.

Tho I haven’t got any more news that I can tell, I can tell you more when I get back home again. I hope you are all well and please greet all the folks I know and write me when you find time. With best wishes to you all from,

Henry Bergman

In Flanders Fields by Lieut. Col. John McCree, Bird Island Union, 11-21-1918

In Flanders Field the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row and row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely signing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved; and now we lie
In Flanders Field.
Take up your quarrel with the foe!
To you, from falling hands, we throw
     The torch. Be yours to lift it high!
If ye breaks faith with us who die.
We shall not sleep, though poppies blow
In Flanders Fields.

The War is Won, Renville County Farmer, 11-15-1918

Uncle Sammy has some boys,
     The Proudest in the world;
With us the whole world may rejoice,
     The U.S. Flag unfurled.
The flag was carried from our home,
     By train it sped to camp;
Then presently it pranced the foam
     In days of fog and damp,
One sunny morning watched her dance
     The transport rocked with joy,
With tears of gladness good old France
     Threw kisses at our boy.
Both men and women, young and old,
     Midst tears with joy and song
Saw our old glory’s stripes unfold;
     The sight will linger long,
Some stripes were hope and some were prayer,
     Yes some were grim command;
United States had come to share,
     To lend a helping hand.
The stars that fluttered in the skies,
     Just forty-eight in all,
Glazed thru the smoke with piecing eyes,
     To place the cannon ball.
But best of all, the khaki boys,
     With British and with French
Played with the shells like kids with toys,
     And “copped” a German trench.
One, two, and three, they break! They run!
     Our boys the fences vault.
No counter charge, with gas and gun,
     Our plucky boys, can halt.
The French go wild, the British prance,
     Our boys pursue the chase.
Another lease of life for France.
     Poor Wilhelm take your place!
Go way back and sit down,
     Or go to bed for good.
You just take off your golden crown
     And put on grandma’s hood.

The world will roll and jog along,
     A mighty pleasant place.
For our good boys have make the song,
     Apeace the human race.
Yes, some have paid the supreme price
     And given blood and life
To lift the nations to the skies
     And end such bloody strife.
Our Renville County boys were there
     We’re proud they sailed the skies.
When they return we’ll do our share,
     To give them honor’s prize.
This county has a bunch of girls,
     That sure will meet the train
So well equipped with smiles and curls
     Through some must wait in vain.
The train is in, the first to shake
     Is father and good mother,
They dare not speak their voice might break,
     Their feelings might go further.