I will write
you a few lines and tell you how I am getting along and some things about the
places I have seen since I left Camp Lewis, Wash.
The censor has
quit his job, so we can write pretty near anything we want to now.
Well, I am as
well as ever and am getting along fine. We are at a camp about 10 miles from
Verdun now and have been here for about three weeks waiting for orders to move
either to Germany or back to the good old U. S. A. The Statue of Liberty will
look good to us when we come back. That was the last thing we could see when we
left the United States. We left New York July 14 and landed in Liverpool, Eng.,
July 26, having been on the boat thirteen days, and very long days they were,
too. We then rode the train across England to Southampton, where we got on a
boat again that took us across the channel to Havre, France. Here we got on a
train and went down into the southern part of France where we stayed for about
three months learning the finer points about this artillery work.
Our regiment is
motorized and is equipped with 6-inch rifles.
We got up to
the front just 36 hours before they quit fighting, so we never got a chance to
fire a shot at the enemy. We all felt as if we had missed something, for we had
worked and trained so long to get ready. We are expert artillery men, too, and
did excellent work on the range. The French are supposed to be noted for their
marksmanship with the big guns but they got real jealous when they saw us
shoot. They furnished the targets and we shot them all to pieces.
We are located
in a very dreary lonesome camp now. It is miles away from any towns. There are
towns close by but here out they are so shot up that they are of no account
anyway, and there is no Y.C.M.A. anywhere either, so we have no place to write
letters except in our billet on top of our bunks and that’s a very punk place
to write letters.
There are some
rumors around that we are going to Germany in a few days, but I hope they’re
wrong and that they will send us home instead.
I will close
for this time, hoping this letter finds you all well, and best wishes for a
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Your loving son, FRANK SODERQUIST, Batt. F. 348 F. A., A.E.F., France
Editor’s Note: We do not have a photograph of Frank Soderquist.
Clarence Hassinger December 6, 1896 – December 25, 1983
Periguiux,
France, Dec. 4, 1918
Dear Mother and
All,
Well, I have a
little time this morning so will try and write you a few lines to let you know
I am well and still feeling fine. Hope that my letter finds you still the same.
I guess now that this war is about over I can tell you a little more about my
experience. First I will tell about my trip. We left Camp Upton on June 4, and
went to Hoboken, N.J., where we went aboard the old German boat now the Aeclus.
We sailed on the morning of June 7th. We were on the water eleven
days landing at Brest, France, on the morning of June 18th. Gee, but
that was a grand sight to see land, although we had a splendid trip and I only
hope that the returning trip will be as enjoyable.
We left Brest
on Sunday morning, June 23, arrived at our present camp, Periguiux, on June 25th
and have been here most of the time. I was on detached service for a couple of
months but was glad to get back with the bunch once more.
I received the
two papers you sent me day before yesterday and enjoyed reading them very much.
Well, I suppose
the weather in old Minnesota is pretty cold by this time. We still continue to
receive our share of rain. They say that the weather begins to get warm again
in January here. I sincerely hope it is true as under the conditions I don’t
care to see much cold weather. You know the brakeman doesn’t have any caboose
or fireman’s seat-box to ride over here. He has to ride out on some open car
most of the time and sometimes, especially at night, it gets pretty cold. Well,
mother, I don’t know very much news so I guess I will close for this time.
Hoping to hear from you very soon,
With lots of
love, Pvt. Clarence Hassinger, Co. A. 52 Regt. T.C., A.E.F., A.P.O. 794
Received you
dear letters a few days ago. It was the first I had received for almost a
month. Sure glad to hear from you. I am sure you had some rejoicing in the
States when the armistice was signed. We certainly did here and it has been
going all week since Monday morning. I was signed at five o’clock a. m. and we
got the news three hours later. Whistles blew, bells rang and the people just
went mad with joy. Everybody forgot all care from that time on. About fifty of
us from the hospital went on a parade Monday night, headed by an American flag
and went down thru the streets having a big time. Before we got very far there
was a crowd about three blocks long following the Yanks, as they called us. Am
sending you a clipping taken from a London paper.
The weather is
getting a little better over here, not so much rain. Had a little frost.
We will not
know very much of what’s going to be doing until after peace is signed. May be
some time yet. I don’t suppose we will be home for six months after the peace
treaty has been signed. We’re going to have a grand old time, ma, when we get
back home again. Will write real often as soon as censorship regulations are
taken off. Write often, with love.
Your son, Henry
Clipping from London newspaper:
“Joy” Night Scenes in London: London is still “keeping up” the German surrender.
For the third
night in succession huge cheering crowds perambulated the West End and indulged
in all kinds of horseplay.
The King and
Queen, who were accompanied by Princess Mary, came in for another great
reception yesterday when they paid a visit to the East End.
To-day their
Majesties will motor through South London. Leaving Buckingham Palace at 2:30,
the route will be:
Birdcage-walk,
Westminster Bridge-road, St. George’s road, New Kent-road, New Cross-road, Queen’s-road,
High-street, Peckham, Peckham-road, Church street, Camberwell New-road,
Kennington Oval, Vauxhall Bridge-road. Victoria-street, Buckingham Palace-road.
Surging Masses The West End of London last night presented a wonderful sight. Soon after seven o’clock huge crowds began to assemble in Whitehall, the Strand, Trafalgar-square, Piccadilly and other West End streets. Scores of thousands of people formed a surging mass, and they wandered aimlessly about, indulging in all sorts of minor horseplay. The streets became impassable. Soldiers, munition girls and frenzied youths pushed their way through the crowd making a deafening din, making weird noises on still weirder instruments. Bells were rung, trumpets and bugles blown, and there was much banging of tins.
Hawkers’ Harvest Hawkers did a great trade in ”ticklers”, squirters and all the other paraphernalia of horseplay. The people were quite good-humoured if in a madly excited condition, but at times there were some ugly rushes through the haphazard discharge of fireworks.
Tube Stations Guarded Tens of thousands of people strolled about Trafalgar-square in the brilliant light, and there was another great concourse of people at Piccadilly-circus. Huge motor-lorries filled with frenzied young men and women added to the indescribable confusion. Precautions had to be taken to have the Tube stations guarded by the police.
Fireworks Queues There were such big crowds outside shops where fireworks are sold that the police had to interfere and establish orderly queues.
Thoughtless Folly The masonry of the Nelson Column in Trafalgar-square was damaged by two huge bonfires which were lighted at its base by a vast crowd of “peace” rejoicers on Tuesday night. This act of vandalism, which is characterized by everyone as outrageous anti inexcusable, even in the circumstances now prevailing, is heartily condemned as “thoughtless folly.”
How Fire Started “The fire started”, said an eye-witness, “with the advertisement canvas and the scaffolding of the big War Bond posters on the column. “This blazed up pretty well, and the prime movers looked round for more fuel. They seized the heavy wood and iron seats in the square and piled them on to the flames.
Hun Gun for Bonfire “There was a contractor’s hut on wheels, wheelbarrows and a pitch-tank standing near. The mob pushed the hut over and threw it on to the bonfire. “Wheelbarrows, poles and trestles were all utilized. Then the soldiers filled barrels with wooden blocks and shot the lot on to the fire. The blazing pitch ran everywhere and the heat was terrific. In addition, blocks were torn up out of the road and made a lurid flame. “Then someone thought of the German guns in the Mall and the crowd ran there and returned, pushing a huge gun, which they wheeled on to one of the bonfires. The police were powerless, and when the fire brigade arrived soldiers prevented them getting to work.”
Hose Turned on Firemen The firemen proceed to keep the crowd back by turning the hose on them, but Australian soldiers wrestled the pipe away and others slashed it with knives, causing the water to swerve high into the air.
The King in East End Huge crowds cheered the King and Queen as they drove yesterday to the East End of London. On arriving at the Mansion House their Majesties were received by the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress. His Majesty alighted and after a few minutes chat re-entered the carriage and the royal party continued their progress. On Tower-hill a deputation composed of working men and girls had arrived with a huge Union Jack on a gigantic pole, which required the combined strength of four men to hoist. A scene of splendid loyalty was witnessed as their Majesties drove past.
Channel Lights For the first time since the outbreak of war the Channel lights were visible last night.
The following
interesting letter from Ralph Mortiz, a member of the Field Artillery in France
was received by his folks last week.
France,
November 14, 1918
Dear Folks:
Here goes for a
few lines again I don’t know why, I just hate to write tonight, I have my mind
on so many things, mostly about when I am going home.
At last the war
is finished, yes, it is true this time. No more shell noise now and it is all
still at the front. In my last letter I wrote of the cannons shooting. The last
few nights of the war it was surely fierce, could hardly sleep for so much
noise. Although we did not actually get into the fight, we would have if the
war had lasted 36 hours longer. We had our orders and were all ready and had
our guns lined out on the road to move ahead 60 miles and be ready to fire on a
certain city in 36 hears. Then we got orders that the Germans had quit, meaning
the war was over, I tell you what, we were a mad looking instead of happy
bunch. There we were all ready, only to go back to the barracks again. Here we
were having trained for 14 months and right behind the front lines ready to do
our part and then did not get a shot at those devils. Well after we had put our
gun away and unrolled our pack and thought the thing over, we really thought
ourselves lucky. For maybe if we had gone to the front some of us surely would
have been killed, or had to go home blind or without an arm or leg. Well we are
here in camp yet and I don’t know how much longer we shall have to stay, maybe
all winter, nobody can tell. We will stay here at least until the Germans get
back to their own country and get settled for sure. They are going to take us
to see the front line trenches anyway. Every day I hike around this country and
see a lot of eye opening sights.
Ammunition, I
sure have seen a lot of that. We have plenty of powder and lead left to feed
the Germans if they turn again to fight, but I guess it is all over, because I
have seen a lot of our troops coming back by the thousands and lots of loaded
trucks. Since we got to this place we quit drilling and were resting up, until
some of our boys, the lazy fellows, got sick from laying around the cold
barracks, while the rest of us hustled around and looked the country over were
alright. But those fellows spoiled a good thing for us and now we have to work
around the guns. We hate that now since the war is over, and I hope that we
ride of our big guns soon. We didn’t mind that when it was for the good of our
country and ourselves, but now that it is over, to have to clean those guns all
the time makes us pretty mad.
One good thing,
we get lots of good food, better even than we got at Camp Lewis. Uncle Sam trys
hard to feed his men good, and still some kick. The bread is not quite as good
as we had before but it is pretty good anyway and tasted better than the French
bread. The weather is fair now that the shooting has quit, not so smoky. The
nights are cold. I guess you folks know as much or more about the war than I
do, we don’t get the papers here. Received two letters from home today and
yesterday. I will try to send you some souvenir when I get near a post office.
We have a few
fellows down with influenza now. I hope I don’t get it, as it is no fun to be
sick over here, the hospitals are so filled.
The last of the
fighting was the fiercest of all, on both sides. The last Saturday and Sunday
nights I hardly slept at all, the artillery fire was so heavy. Well I will
close for now, good night and love to all.
Your son and
brother, Ralph C. Moritz, Battery F. 348 F.A. France
I received your
letter a few days ago and I was glad to get a letter from home.
I am fine and
dandy. Hope these lines will find you all the same.
What are you all
doing at home? I am working on the railroad now. Since the war is over us
fellows have to work on the work they give us. I suppose Frank is working all
the time too.
Yes, I am happy
because I can come home pretty soon. What are Uncle and Aunt doing? Is Stella
home?
Well, the
weather sure is fine here. As I can’t think of anything more will tell you all
when I get home.
Wishing you all
a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I remain your loving son,
Private Lewis Devorak, Co. F 2nd Bt, 22 Engineers, A.E.F.
Editor’s Note: We do not have a photograph of Lewis Dvorak.
Posted: February 23, 2019 by Renville County Historical Society Leave a Comment
Letter from Frank Soderquist, Renville County Journal, 12-27-1918
Brocourt, France, Nov. 24, 1918
Dear Father:
I will write you a few lines and tell you how I am getting along and some things about the places I have seen since I left Camp Lewis, Wash.
The censor has quit his job, so we can write pretty near anything we want to now.
Well, I am as well as ever and am getting along fine. We are at a camp about 10 miles from Verdun now and have been here for about three weeks waiting for orders to move either to Germany or back to the good old U. S. A. The Statue of Liberty will look good to us when we come back. That was the last thing we could see when we left the United States. We left New York July 14 and landed in Liverpool, Eng., July 26, having been on the boat thirteen days, and very long days they were, too. We then rode the train across England to Southampton, where we got on a boat again that took us across the channel to Havre, France. Here we got on a train and went down into the southern part of France where we stayed for about three months learning the finer points about this artillery work.
Our regiment is motorized and is equipped with 6-inch rifles.
We got up to the front just 36 hours before they quit fighting, so we never got a chance to fire a shot at the enemy. We all felt as if we had missed something, for we had worked and trained so long to get ready. We are expert artillery men, too, and did excellent work on the range. The French are supposed to be noted for their marksmanship with the big guns but they got real jealous when they saw us shoot. They furnished the targets and we shot them all to pieces.
We are located in a very dreary lonesome camp now. It is miles away from any towns. There are towns close by but here out they are so shot up that they are of no account anyway, and there is no Y.C.M.A. anywhere either, so we have no place to write letters except in our billet on top of our bunks and that’s a very punk place to write letters.
There are some rumors around that we are going to Germany in a few days, but I hope they’re wrong and that they will send us home instead.
I will close for this time, hoping this letter finds you all well, and best wishes for a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Your loving son, FRANK SODERQUIST, Batt. F. 348 F. A., A.E.F., France
Editor’s Note: We do not have a photograph of Frank Soderquist.
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Posted: February 23, 2019 by Renville County Historical Society Leave a Comment
Letter from Clarence Hassinger, Morton Enterprise, 12-27-1918
December 6, 1896 – December 25, 1983
Periguiux, France, Dec. 4, 1918
Dear Mother and All,
Well, I have a little time this morning so will try and write you a few lines to let you know I am well and still feeling fine. Hope that my letter finds you still the same. I guess now that this war is about over I can tell you a little more about my experience. First I will tell about my trip. We left Camp Upton on June 4, and went to Hoboken, N.J., where we went aboard the old German boat now the Aeclus. We sailed on the morning of June 7th. We were on the water eleven days landing at Brest, France, on the morning of June 18th. Gee, but that was a grand sight to see land, although we had a splendid trip and I only hope that the returning trip will be as enjoyable.
We left Brest on Sunday morning, June 23, arrived at our present camp, Periguiux, on June 25th and have been here most of the time. I was on detached service for a couple of months but was glad to get back with the bunch once more.
I received the two papers you sent me day before yesterday and enjoyed reading them very much.
Well, I suppose the weather in old Minnesota is pretty cold by this time. We still continue to receive our share of rain. They say that the weather begins to get warm again in January here. I sincerely hope it is true as under the conditions I don’t care to see much cold weather. You know the brakeman doesn’t have any caboose or fireman’s seat-box to ride over here. He has to ride out on some open car most of the time and sometimes, especially at night, it gets pretty cold. Well, mother, I don’t know very much news so I guess I will close for this time. Hoping to hear from you very soon,
With lots of love, Pvt. Clarence Hassinger, Co. A. 52 Regt. T.C., A.E.F., A.P.O. 794
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Posted: February 22, 2019 by Renville County Historical Society Leave a Comment
Letter from Henry Galle, Morton Enterprise, 12-27-1918
May 14, 1893 – August 10, 1971
Morton Boy Sees Big Celebration in London
London, Eng., Nov 15, 1918
My Dear Mother,
Received you dear letters a few days ago. It was the first I had received for almost a month. Sure glad to hear from you. I am sure you had some rejoicing in the States when the armistice was signed. We certainly did here and it has been going all week since Monday morning. I was signed at five o’clock a. m. and we got the news three hours later. Whistles blew, bells rang and the people just went mad with joy. Everybody forgot all care from that time on. About fifty of us from the hospital went on a parade Monday night, headed by an American flag and went down thru the streets having a big time. Before we got very far there was a crowd about three blocks long following the Yanks, as they called us. Am sending you a clipping taken from a London paper.
The weather is getting a little better over here, not so much rain. Had a little frost.
We will not know very much of what’s going to be doing until after peace is signed. May be some time yet. I don’t suppose we will be home for six months after the peace treaty has been signed. We’re going to have a grand old time, ma, when we get back home again. Will write real often as soon as censorship regulations are taken off. Write often, with love.
Your son, Henry
Clipping from London newspaper:
“Joy” Night Scenes in London:
London is still “keeping up” the German surrender.
For the third night in succession huge cheering crowds perambulated the West End and indulged in all kinds of horseplay.
The King and Queen, who were accompanied by Princess Mary, came in for another great reception yesterday when they paid a visit to the East End.
To-day their Majesties will motor through South London. Leaving Buckingham Palace at 2:30, the route will be:
Birdcage-walk, Westminster Bridge-road, St. George’s road, New Kent-road, New Cross-road, Queen’s-road, High-street, Peckham, Peckham-road, Church street, Camberwell New-road, Kennington Oval, Vauxhall Bridge-road. Victoria-street, Buckingham Palace-road.
Surging Masses
The West End of London last night presented a wonderful sight.
Soon after seven o’clock huge crowds began to assemble in Whitehall, the Strand, Trafalgar-square, Piccadilly and other West End streets.
Scores of thousands of people formed a surging mass, and they wandered aimlessly about, indulging in all sorts of minor horseplay.
The streets became impassable. Soldiers, munition girls and frenzied youths pushed their way through the crowd making a deafening din, making weird noises on still weirder instruments. Bells were rung, trumpets and bugles blown, and there was much banging of tins.
Hawkers’ Harvest
Hawkers did a great trade in ”ticklers”, squirters and all the other paraphernalia of horseplay.
The people were quite good-humoured if in a madly excited condition, but at times there were some ugly rushes through the haphazard discharge of fireworks.
Tube Stations Guarded
Tens of thousands of people strolled about Trafalgar-square in the brilliant light, and there was another great concourse of people at Piccadilly-circus.
Huge motor-lorries filled with frenzied young men and women added to the indescribable confusion.
Precautions had to be taken to have the Tube stations guarded by the police.
Fireworks Queues
There were such big crowds outside shops where fireworks are sold that the police had to interfere and establish orderly queues.
Thoughtless Folly
The masonry of the Nelson Column in Trafalgar-square was damaged by two huge bonfires which were lighted at its base by a vast crowd of “peace” rejoicers on Tuesday night.
This act of vandalism, which is characterized by everyone as outrageous anti inexcusable, even in the circumstances now prevailing, is heartily condemned as “thoughtless folly.”
How Fire Started
“The fire started”, said an eye-witness, “with the advertisement canvas and the scaffolding of the big War Bond posters on the column.
“This blazed up pretty well, and the prime movers looked round for more fuel. They seized the heavy wood and iron seats in the square and piled them on to the flames.
Hun Gun for Bonfire
“There was a contractor’s hut on wheels, wheelbarrows and a pitch-tank standing near. The mob pushed the hut over and threw it on to the bonfire.
“Wheelbarrows, poles and trestles were all utilized. Then the soldiers filled barrels with wooden blocks and shot the lot on to the fire. The blazing pitch ran everywhere and the heat was terrific. In addition, blocks were torn up out of the road and made a lurid flame.
“Then someone thought of the German guns in the Mall and the crowd ran there and returned, pushing a huge gun, which they wheeled on to one of the bonfires. The police were powerless, and when the fire brigade arrived soldiers prevented them getting to work.”
Hose Turned on Firemen
The firemen proceed to keep the crowd back by turning the hose on them, but Australian soldiers wrestled the pipe away and others slashed it with knives, causing the water to swerve high into the air.
The King in East End
Huge crowds cheered the King and Queen as they drove yesterday to the East End of London.
On arriving at the Mansion House their Majesties were received by the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress. His Majesty alighted and after a few minutes chat re-entered the carriage and the royal party continued their progress.
On Tower-hill a deputation composed of working men and girls had arrived with a huge Union Jack on a gigantic pole, which required the combined strength of four men to hoist.
A scene of splendid loyalty was witnessed as their Majesties drove past.
Channel Lights
For the first time since the outbreak of war the Channel lights were visible last night.
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Last Updated: February 22, 2019 by Renville County Historical Society Leave a Comment
Letter from Ralph Moritz, Buffalo Lake News, 12-27-1918
July 24, 1895 – March 31, 1978
The following interesting letter from Ralph Mortiz, a member of the Field Artillery in France was received by his folks last week.
France, November 14, 1918
Dear Folks:
Here goes for a few lines again I don’t know why, I just hate to write tonight, I have my mind on so many things, mostly about when I am going home.
At last the war is finished, yes, it is true this time. No more shell noise now and it is all still at the front. In my last letter I wrote of the cannons shooting. The last few nights of the war it was surely fierce, could hardly sleep for so much noise. Although we did not actually get into the fight, we would have if the war had lasted 36 hours longer. We had our orders and were all ready and had our guns lined out on the road to move ahead 60 miles and be ready to fire on a certain city in 36 hears. Then we got orders that the Germans had quit, meaning the war was over, I tell you what, we were a mad looking instead of happy bunch. There we were all ready, only to go back to the barracks again. Here we were having trained for 14 months and right behind the front lines ready to do our part and then did not get a shot at those devils. Well after we had put our gun away and unrolled our pack and thought the thing over, we really thought ourselves lucky. For maybe if we had gone to the front some of us surely would have been killed, or had to go home blind or without an arm or leg. Well we are here in camp yet and I don’t know how much longer we shall have to stay, maybe all winter, nobody can tell. We will stay here at least until the Germans get back to their own country and get settled for sure. They are going to take us to see the front line trenches anyway. Every day I hike around this country and see a lot of eye opening sights.
Ammunition, I sure have seen a lot of that. We have plenty of powder and lead left to feed the Germans if they turn again to fight, but I guess it is all over, because I have seen a lot of our troops coming back by the thousands and lots of loaded trucks. Since we got to this place we quit drilling and were resting up, until some of our boys, the lazy fellows, got sick from laying around the cold barracks, while the rest of us hustled around and looked the country over were alright. But those fellows spoiled a good thing for us and now we have to work around the guns. We hate that now since the war is over, and I hope that we ride of our big guns soon. We didn’t mind that when it was for the good of our country and ourselves, but now that it is over, to have to clean those guns all the time makes us pretty mad.
One good thing, we get lots of good food, better even than we got at Camp Lewis. Uncle Sam trys hard to feed his men good, and still some kick. The bread is not quite as good as we had before but it is pretty good anyway and tasted better than the French bread. The weather is fair now that the shooting has quit, not so smoky. The nights are cold. I guess you folks know as much or more about the war than I do, we don’t get the papers here. Received two letters from home today and yesterday. I will try to send you some souvenir when I get near a post office.
We have a few fellows down with influenza now. I hope I don’t get it, as it is no fun to be sick over here, the hospitals are so filled.
The last of the fighting was the fiercest of all, on both sides. The last Saturday and Sunday nights I hardly slept at all, the artillery fire was so heavy. Well I will close for now, good night and love to all.
Your son and brother, Ralph C. Moritz, Battery F. 348 F.A. France
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Posted: February 22, 2019 by Renville County Historical Society Leave a Comment
Letter from Lewis Dvorak, Renville Star Farmer, 12-26-1918
Dear Mother:
I received your letter a few days ago and I was glad to get a letter from home.
I am fine and dandy. Hope these lines will find you all the same.
What are you all doing at home? I am working on the railroad now. Since the war is over us fellows have to work on the work they give us. I suppose Frank is working all the time too.
Yes, I am happy because I can come home pretty soon. What are Uncle and Aunt doing? Is Stella home?
Well, the weather sure is fine here. As I can’t think of anything more will tell you all when I get home.
Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I remain your loving son,
Private Lewis Devorak, Co. F 2nd Bt, 22 Engineers, A.E.F.
Editor’s Note: We do not have a photograph of Lewis Dvorak.
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