Letters from Caroline Calista Post Atwater, Dora's paternal Grandmother, to the Sherwood Family

 

The photos above and below of William and Caroline (Post) Atwater, are from my cousin, who is a direct descendent from Dora and the Atwaters.

 

This four generation photo may well be one of the last photos that were taken of Caroline Calista Post Atwater.  This is of her, her daughter-in-law, Ella Jane Stevens Atwater Sherwood (center front), her grand-daughter Dora Atwater Sherwood Lindsey (right) and lastly Margaret Lindsey Mangum Leesom May (center back). 

1917-1209 – Caroline Calista Post Atwater to Ella Jane Atwater Stevens Sherwood

[Caroline Post Atwater was the mother of Elmer Atwater, first husband of Ella Jane Stevens Atwater.  At the time of this letter, it had been sixty years since her son was born and 37 years since her son had died when Dora was an infant.  When Dora was born Ella Jane, Elmer and Dora had lived with William and Caroline Atwater and Ella Jane and Dora continued to live with them for some time after his death.  They remained close throughout their lives, even after Ella Jane married Will Sherwood. William Atwater had passed away a few months earlier on April 8, 1917. Caroline's letters provide a lot of family information.]    

Bangor Dec 9, 1917

            Dear Ella and family, don’t think for one moment I have forgotten to write to you for I have not but you know how negligent we old people are.  How are you this severe wintery weather.  I am not feeling very good but am much better than I have been. I took a very hard cold and it left me with a very bad cough. Am troubled with bronchitis and it was pretty hard on me for a while but am better. It was almost like the Grippe so I expect I will have to keep pretty close at home this winter. Have not been out anywhere but once since I came home. Two months ago I was with you. Net seemed very glad to see me and I surely was glad to get here before cold weather. Am much obliged for sending the crochet hooks.  I have been quite busy (when I felt able) knitting rugs.  Have knitted one twenty two inches wide and forty long a quite a dark one.  Another one not quite done will be thirty inches wide and sixty six inches long.  They are both striped. The last one is much lighter than the other. Will have rags enough left for another one smaller.  Have made blocks enough for a silk quilt all ready to work the seams and tatted quite a bit. How did you spend Thanksgiving?  We all stayed at home. Aunt Beck and Uncle Philand [Rebecca Atwater, Caroline's sister-in-law and her husband Philander Byrns] came down Thanksgiving morning and stayed until Sunday. They are pretty well for old people and Leolie’s family were here to dinner. You never saw such a place for company. Four men, hog men and wives and three of them with a child too have been here since I came home and they have stayed from one night to one week. One man and wife stayed one week. He would be gone some days but back nights several times. Three or four men came and be here one night.  It makes lots of work.

            Mrs. Frank says I would not have it.  I would be boss in my own house and put a stop to it.  Net says it is part of the hog business. They had a hog sale the next week after I came home.  Sold $4,785 but it is a very expensive such work, his expenses are enormous. Will have another sale in the last of Jan of bred sows will make 3 or 4 thousand and then he sells lots at private sales.  He certainly is a prosperous man.
            Now I don’t write this for a blow but thought you would like to hear it. I had a letter from Will Skelton not long ago. Their boy is in the army. I don’t know whether he was drafted or enlisted. They take it very hard. Will said with close economy they might get along until spring. The worst is for feed for stock. Everything dried up out there and Will is not well and a very poor manager at best. Their daughter is married and lives near them. She helps them a great deal. I think by the way he wrote it is very cold tonight. Len has got the house heated to boiling but I have got a window open.
            Isn’t this war something fierce. I have had to quit reading war news it makes me so nervous. Mrs. Frank reads it all and talks it all the time. It seems as though all the devils in the infernal regions possess the old Keiser (I don’t know if I spelled that right but you know what I mean) for him to think of such dreadful things. Mrs. F and I both want to knit for the Red Cross but Net and Len say we have knit enough in our day and not try it but if I could I would be glad to.
            Dora sent me Margaret’s picture. It is very nice. I wrote to her some time ago but don’t know whether she received it. About three weeks ago six ladies, old neighbors of mine from Onalaska came up on the half past eight train and stayed all day.  We all had a splendid time.  It surely made me feel good.  They sent Net word so she was ready for dinner and supper.  Len bough a tractor to use on the farm this fall. It cost him $1030 with two plows.  Is something nice too he only has four horses now and wants to sell one team.

            Now don’t you think I have written enough nonsense and I think it must be about bed time.  My how the wind blows so goodnight. Love and best respect to you all.  Write before you forget it.                                                                                     Mother A

Note on back:
A Merry Christmas & Happy New Year to One and All

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1918-0305 – Caroline Post Atwater to Ella Jane Stevens Atwater Sherwood

Bangor, March 5, 1918

Dear One’s All,

            How are you this very unpleasant day.  It has been so foggy all day could hardly see across the road. It is just twenty four years today since we moved to Onalaska[1] and it rained all day after we got about three miles on our way.  I was very home sick then for a long time but with never such a sad, lonely feeling as I have these days.  I spend most of my time in my own room all alone and am very, very lonely.  I have not been out in the road since before Christmas and it seems very different from any thing I was ever used to.  I would not have any think I am complaining for I have a very nice home yet it is not home to me.  It seems as though I was in the way. A letter from Grace[2] today done me so much good.  Her two youngest boys were having croup Sunday pretty bad I guess.  The rest are well. 

            True’s folks were not very well, some of them. Mae’s husband has been sent home on account of tuberculosis of the lungs.  There is but little choice I think between that and going to France.  Len[3] has nearly 200 little pigs, fine ones too.  He had a big sale this winter – it brought him eight thousand, eight hundred and eighty two dollars.  One hog sold for one thousand and six hundred and fifty dollars and her last spring litter of pigs sold for over eleven hundred dollars, but of course it’s not all gain.  It is very expensive business.  Every day’s mail brings him inquiries about hogs.  He is away now and is away more than two thirds of the time.  Net says she don’t know what she would do if it was not for the Grandma’s.  Thinks she would go out to work.  I am glad to hear Dora thinks of visiting us Wis folks, will be so glad to see her once more and Susie I hope she may have her share of happiness in her married life.  Did I tell you Ansel had a son a few weeks old the little girl is about twenty months old.  I am having rheumatism pretty severe now.  This kind of weather is not very good for rheumatic people, but am pretty well otherwise.  Now write and let me now when Dora comes. [Follow link for later news; Dora did visit her on her way home from Susan and Herman's wedding.]

            Net[4]’s brother Eber is here visiting his mother.   She has been quite sick and is very childish and it makes her very angry to contradict.  One word she guesses she knows she has had and brought up seven children, she ought to know.  She sputters at Net because she don’t do everything just as she says.  I suppose you think you know more than I do but I don’t – she tells Net – but we don’t say much only try to make her think she is all right – surely if she has many spells like she had had this winter she won’t last very long.  Net’s birthday is the 16^th of this month.  I am making her a corset-cover yoke crocheting it – am doing it on the sly.  Next week Lenore[5] is coming to stay all the week.  She has no sewing machine so is coming to sew and her mother will help her.  Says she has nothing to wear.  Her husband’s mother stays most of the time with them this winter so she can come often.  Ida’s baby does not do as well as she ought, don’t grow much, is a poor little thing, but is surely a good baby.  Net is sewing for Lilah, making over some of Lenore’s dresses for her.  I have silk blocks enough, made a quilt for Mae and blocks of outing flannel enough for a quilt for Millie but have to work them yet – but that will pass away the time.

            Is Susan going to stay at home or what and what will be her name.  If she stays there, there will be nothing to hinder you from coming out here when Dora comes.  I hope she don’t disappoint us.   Now my eyes are getting so tired, think I will have to quit.  Grace said they had lots of milk, were milking sixteen cows, mostly new milks and if I would come up I could have all the mush and milk I wanted.  Now don’t forget to write to me before long.  Haven’t I done pretty well answering so quick.  See you do as well. 

            I received three letters today, one from Oland Post wife.  Net received three and her mother two and Net says not much of a day for letters either.  They often receive eight to ten a day. Now goodnight and pleasant dreams to all.

            Yours with love

                        Mother A 

I have always for sixty years signed my name Mrs. W B Atwater[6]and it comes very hard to sign it any other way. 

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[1] Bangor appears to be about ten miles away from Onalaska.  It sounds like she has moved in with other family.

[2] Grace Atwater, wife of Harry Jewett.  Grace and Harry had eleven children. 

[3] Leonard Atwater, son of William and Caroline Atwater

[4] Linette Frank, wife of Leonard

[5] Daughter of Leonard and Linette; she was married but don’t yet know to whom.

[6] Her husband, William Bigelow Atwater had died eleven months before on 8 Apr 1917.  He died six months before what would have been their 60^th wedding anniversary. 

WWI Blog Follows 100 Year Old Journey

George Stevens Sherwood

Almost a year ago I came up with the idea for a second blog  that chronicles as much as possible all the postcards and letters of my Uncle George sent home to his family while he was "Somewhere in France" until he came marching home as they say.  He joined the 108th Army Engineers as was part of the American Expeditionary Forces fighting the Germans in the Great War.  The goal is to post them 100 years to the day that he wrote or mailed them.  That blog is dedicated to his experiences in and around that war.  I decided to post part of that information here but to expand some of the family history not elaborated upon there.  A trickle of posts have been done but the wave of missives will begin in earnest in September of this year.  

*     *     *     *     *

George Stevens Sherwood's mother, Ella Jane Richardson Sherwood, had been born Julia Eldora Welch to Mary Elizabeth Richardson and Evi Welch both of Vermont.

Mary Elizabeth Richardson Welch Dexter

Evi died before their daughter was six months old.  Mary Elizabeth later married Martin Dexter and they had five more children two of whom died young (apparently from lung disease - possibly cystic fibrosis). 

Ella Jane Stevens/Julia Eldora Welch was likely taken at the time of her adoption.

Mary Elizabeth's sister, Rosina Jane Richardson (who went by Jane)  and her husband David Eastman Stevens, had no children.  When Julia Eldora was six years old, she was adopted by her aunt and uncle Jane and David.  Her name was changed to Ella Jane Stevens.

 Rosina Jane "Jane" Richardson Stevens

David Eastman Stevens

  Ella Jane Stevens later married William Sherwood and they were the parents of George Stevens Sherwood.   

 

At the same time that he was considering a future in the Army, George's great uncle Robert Richardson was writing to his sister, George's great aunt Eva (known as Nellie).  Robert and Eva were the only two remaining of 8 siblings, and were the eldest and youngest siblings of Jane, George's late grandmother.

Robert Fletcher Richardson II.  This Robert was not a Jr. because the former Robert Fletcher Richardson was his grandfather.  His father was Robert A Richardson

This is Eva (Nellie) Richardson Thompson with her foster daughter Myrtilla.

 



Robert had lived his entire life in Vermont. Eva, born and raised in Vermont, married, moved to Minnesota, divorced, remarried, moved to the Dakota territories, took on the foster care of three children,  moved to Washington Territory (Palouse) and lived there until her husband George  Thompson died in 1914.  In 1915 Nellie as she had become known, moved back to Wisconsin to be near her dear niece, Ella Jane, George's mother. 

When I came across this letter today while working on a future WWI post I realized that this letter did claim its place in the posts dedicated to WWI.  Robert, and his wife Rosetta Dexter Richardson (who added a long postscript) were also serving their country in their own way struggling to keep their farm going when all the young men who might  have helped them were going off to war.  I love hearing the voices as their words of 100 years ago are read, knowing that they had weathered the storms of war before and knew of what they spoke. 
 

1917-0624 – Robert & Rosetta Richardson to Eva (Nellie) Richardson Thompson

Washington, VT, June 24, 1917

Dear Sister Eva[1],
            I realize that I have owed you a letter for a long time but I find but little time for aught else only to do the necessary work on the farm; had had only one days work since last fall.  No help to be hired at any price.
            12 young men from our town have enlisted within a few days, are gone and other are soon to follow.  Charles Henry[2] has enlisted as chemist and mineral expert ready to be called on at any time for government work.  This is a terrible war and peace seems to be a long ways off.  I do not expect to live[3] to see the close of the war, for old people in Vermont are fast passing away. We have had the coldest winter and spring in Vt. that has been known since 1843.  The season is five weeks behind times, a short season unless a late fall.
            Mother and I are fast growing old, cannot expect to stay here much longer.  How are you and do you feel that you are growing old faster than when younger?  Henry’s widow Lilla[4] is expecting to get a pension[5] in a short time. Do you get more favorable news from your pension[6] of late?  Government works slow in all matters of late.  Your birthday is near at hand and hope you will enjoy it and many more.  Please write us often and I will try to answer.     
                                                          With much love,
                                                                        Robert

---

[1] Eva was the youngest sibling of the Robert and Rosina Richardson children.  Robert F Richardson was the eldest of the 8 children, six of whom reached adulthood. 

[2] His son.

[3] Robert F Richardson did, however, live until 1922.

[4] Lilla M Keyes was the fourth wife of Henry Carlton Richardson, Robert F. Richardson’s brother, who had passed away on August 15, 1915.

[5] Civil War pension as Henry Carlton Richardson was a veteran of that war and had been wounded twice. He enlisted on December 2, 1861 and was discharged on July 17, 1865. 

[6] Eva (Nellie) was the widow of George Thompson who was also a Civil War Veteran.

June 24, 1918

Dear Sister Eva,

            I will try to write a few lines to add to Robert’s letter, he wished me to address his letter to you and I take the liberty to write a few lines.

            If I have not addressed it right please tell me how to address letter to you when you write next time. My memory is getting treacherous and I am forgetting how to spell the words, also how to shape some of the letters.  Do you wonder when you think that I shall be 85 years old if I live to the see the 2^nd of next December.  I can hardly realize that Robert and I have lived together 60 years the 9^th of this month.

            I have not been very well for more than a year.  I got through the winter alone but I had a neighbor come in and help me one forenoon and two afternoons this spring.  I have done my washings alone thus far but do not think that I can much longer.

            Henry was home for a few days but is now doing geological work in Vt is to return to Syracuse NY to teach a summer school before the college opens in Sept.  I think he is working too hard.

            My brother Avalyn and his wife spent the winter in California, but are now visiting relatives in different states.  He wrote me that he should be here this week.  Walter Burgin has bought my father’s old farm with much other land; he has two boys grown up to help him.

            Brother Lewis spent the winter in Fla for his health.  His trouble is a leakage of one of the arteries of the heart.  I expect him here in a few days.  He does not think he can ever do any more pastoral work. 

                                    Your loving sister, Rosetta

Please kindly remember me to Ella Sherwood.  I should dearly love to step into her home for a few days visit.  It is raining hard here just now. 

 

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Preparing to go OVER THERE

Uncle George Stevens Sherwood, while in training at Camp Logan before heading off to WWI, sent many letters and photos home.  Not all have been matched up to the letters.  We were able to match up one photo with this letter as well as  a not listed but still fun photo of George and his "tentmates."   First names are missing, but tentmates are "Wahlstadt, Marshall and Sherwood."

"Camp Logan, Houston, Tex.

Sunday, P.M. Oct 28, ‘17

Well, here I am back in my tent. Just got back from town, where I went with Mohr, whose picture I herein enclose. We took a jitney and got to the M. E. church just in time for church, 10:30 A.M. Were treated fine by the people there. Heard some fine music by choir, also vocal and violin solos, then a fair sermon. Got out of church at 12:45. Just went straight from there down to Thompson’s Cafeteria where two poached eggs on toast and a piece of hot mince pie set me back 25 cents but they were worth it at that. Then we walked out to the union station and around town awhile, then went to a movie then chartered a fliver and came back to camp. And now I am writing to my dear folks back home, or at least trying to when the noise in here will allow me to.

You ask for a sketch of our days work. So I give an abbrieved (coined by me) schedule:

5:45 First Call

6:00 Assembly and Roll Call (as fully dressed)

6:10 Physical exercise

6:30 Mess

8:00 Drill or Detail work
12:00 Mess
1:30 Drill, work or loaf
5:30 Retreat
6:00 Mess
10:00 Taps –lights out

(Photo of Mohn - otherwise known as #5 below)

I am still waiting to hear how much I owe you.
This is a nice sunshiny day with cool breeze blowing.
If I don’t get down to real work soon I will be as fat as ever, I guess. Did I tell you before that we have received over 1,000 draft men from Rockford.

Now to explain the views or snapshots, I should say.
No. 1 is explained on the back. Our tent is next to last to be seen at far end of street.
No. 2. Mohr took of me when I was grinning and faking a salute, not thinking he was ready to shoot.
No. 3 Also explained on back.
No. 4 Lowery and I are studying surveying out of my book together.
No. 5. I snapped of Mohn so you could see what my pal looked like. Also so I’d have one to keep.
No. 6 was also taken the day of the Liberty Loan Celebration.

I will send you some more soon. Don’t for heavens sake let anyone see No. 2. It is awful.

Love to al,

George Sherwood"



Echternach, Luxembourg in WWI

My great-Uncle George Sherwood sent the postcard above to his Aunt Nellie (Eva Irene Richardson) Thompson while he was in France. On the back of this photo he wrote:

Dear Auntie,

Just a line to let you know I am well. Just read your letter written the early part of Dec for my Xmas. Thank you for the kind greetings. The picture on the other side of this card is taken from the German side of the Sauer River and shows the little city we now occupy. Write to me as often as you can. I hope this will find you well. With loving greetings.

Corporal George Sherwood

108th US Engineers, American Exp Forces

Censored - Captain

Woodrow Wilson Writes to the Nation

I found this printed letter that must have been mailed throughout the country. As there is no date on it, I did a little internet search and found a printed version in a United Mine Workers publication dated October 1, 1918. During this time period George Sherwood would have been "somewhere in France" and I am sure that is the reason his family kept this letter.

Welcome Home, Soldier. Well done!

Uncle George Stevens Sherwood came home from France and WWI in May of 1919. He arrived at home the first few days of June, and just missed the birth of his first nephew by a few days (to his sister's intense disappointment). Among the family letters I found this welcome home packet including the carnation (I think). But the real treasure in it are his dogtags and his list of the campaigns in which he played a part. The troops landed in New York, but then returned to their own headquarters area of which his was Chicago.

Welcome Home George Sherwood on USS Harrisburg

What a treat to discover among the family letters a postcard from Uncle George letting Herman and Susan as well as Will and Ella Jane that he had arrived at last from "Over There." And along with that postcard, a booklet of photos of the USS Harrisburg, all looking nearly as they did when they were printed

A Soldier's Day at Camp Logan, Texas

What a treat to discover someone's photos of Camp Logan on the internet (linked here, but not copied). I'm not exactly sure how it works, but the upload from the internet worked fine on blogger. Always such an education! So I have no idea who the person is in the postcard, but since Uncle George did the same kind of job I thought it was a perfect image to go along with his description!

Camp Logan, February 11 – ‘18


Dear Ones All:
Just a line to let you know that I’m still alive and enjoy your daily letters even tho I am bad about answering. I usually receive the letters about every other or every 3rd day, from two to four in a bunch. But I enjoy them just as much anyway. Didn’t get any today, so will spend the time I would usually spend reading it in writing one to you.* Right there I was interrupted and didn’t get a chance to start over until this P.M. (the 12th). Just got thru reading 3 letters from the noon’s mail so I will hurry and answer the two from you folks with this.

Went to a show over on “The Street” with Andy last night. Expect to go up town to-nite if nothing serious occurs to change my plans. Wish you could have enjoyed? the pleasant little ride I took Sat nite. The Major was “Field Officer of the Day” and so I had to get out the horses for us to go over to Div. Headquarters for orders and the field officer’s banner. This at 5 P.M. It had rained all the afternoon (just a drizzly, hang to it kind of storm). It is only about 1/6 mile to Headquarters but we had to ride over just the same. Then I stood in the rain and shivered (I had on a slicker but of course my feet were soaked and my hands cold) for about half an hr. before the “Field Officer” going off duty rode up with his orderly and the flag. Then we orderlies had to wait while our respective Major’s got their orders and the old one was relieved. So it was about six P.M. when I rode back to the corral and rubbed off the horses, bedded them down and blanketed them. By that time the corral was flooded, water up to my shoe tops in many places. At eight P.M. out we went to make the rounds of the camp and didn’t get in until 9:30. By that time I was wet and tired enough to go to bed. Sunday morning I got up at 6:30 and worked on horses and equipment till we went out for the rounds at 9:00. Rode until 12:00 then put up the horses in our corral, ate my dinner, sat down for perhaps 15 min. then out again getting ready to leave at 2: 00. Back in at 3:45 and fed and bedded my horses (also cleaned them what I could for the 3rd time that day.) Then out again at 4:40 to go to Headquarters to deliver the reports and banner to the succeeding field officer. Got back and horses put away just in time for mess at 5:30. So I went from 6:30 A.M. to 5:30 P.M. and only sat down 3 times (one of those time for dinner). That of course except sitting in the saddle. And of course had to carry the banner or flag wherever we rode, tho a stirrup boot holds the weight of the pole so it isn’t so bad. There, I guess that is a pretty good outline without saying anything I shouldn’t, tho I doubt if there is anything to be at all secretive about in the duties of the “Field Officer.” Was pretty near all in when the siege was over. But haven’t rode since, tho must take the horses out for a run this P.M. Went to gas school yesterday morning. Probably will have to go again to-morrow. Now I better close and get to work or I’ll lose my job.

Oh, yes. I have signed an allotment home to you folks (I think it will go to mother but I’m not sure.) If you ever need any of it why use it, and what you don’t need put in the F & Merchant’s Bank for me on my savings acct. That much for when we go across if we do. But while I am on this side I will ask you to forward $10 or $15 every month when you receive it as I will only receive $3.50 per month now on this side. But we had to make the allotment arrangements the other day and I thot best to arrange it now for the way I wanted it if we go across, and then I’d know for sure everything was working as it should while I was over there. You see, I could have refused to allot any while in this country and then when we went across they would have held out all but about $7.50 and saved in Wash D.C. for me at 4% till I returned.

But you couldn’t get any of it to use if you did need it that way. And in case I should get croaked you might not know how much I had coming and it would be hard to get, I was afraid. So soon after next pay day you should receive $15.00 of my pay and if in the opinion of the officials you are at all dependent or need it the Government may add five or ten. If they do, don’t think you are robbing them as lots that need it less than you are receiving it, tho I made no special plea for it. If the checks for farm produce, etc. keep you going all right, as I hope they will from now on, you may forward me the whole $15, but if you are at all pinched hold out $5.00 and use it. Just how bad are the finances anyway? And don’t forget if I do go over in the early part of the summer, to use all of it if you need it, and bank it for me only if you have plenty. Until then I can use at least $10 of it a month if you can spare it.

You see we get an increase in pay for foreign service and as they claim we can only have $7.50 per month over there, I’ll be O.K. when we go over. I wonder if we ever really will? Just now my pay is disposed of as follows.

$5 per month for Liberty Bond.
$6.50 “ “ “ $10,000 insurance
$15 “ “ “ allotment
$3.50 “ “ in cash
$30.00 Total pay

Now I really must close. Hope I’ve made this clear, but fear it is pretty hazy to one trying to read it.
Love and love again to all
George S. Sherwood

Should the owner of this photo not like it linked here on this blog, please let me know and I'll delete! It's at http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~usgenweb/tx/harris/postcards/clogan.jpg

Happy Birthday Wishes to Sister Susan

In 1919 George Sherwood wrote to his sister Susan Sherwood Weber who was back on the old Wisconsin farm in Kendall. Her birthday was a week away and a week later she would be 25 years old. She would now be 115 years of age were she still alive, but it was just 90 years ago this year that this missive came to her from "Over There" perhaps around this time. The photo I had thought was Grandma Susan around her high school graduation turned out to be Aunt Dora. Hopefully this one is her - as my parents believe :-). I guess I'll find out.

Dearest of Sisters,
I didn’t intend to write you alone, or to exclude the rest of the family when I came over here, but the spirit moves me to rave a little, and the only excuse I can think of is to call it a birthday letter, tho it is now only a week until your birthday. Anyway, you can read the folks as much of this as you want to. Even now I don’t know just what I am going to write, but I know I want to talk to “My dear little Sister” even as we loved to do in bygone days.

And first of all, I have just rediscovered one of the oldest of truths. The World is full of and lives on Love. Not the sudden flare of passion that surges over all red blooded men and women at times and threatens – yes often does sweep them off their feet for a time; but the kind of love that burns on year after year, flaming at times, again smoldering beneath the ashes of burned out passions, hopes and desires, but still glows on deep down in the human heart, warming the soul and keeping alive the conscience of the individual and society. And so smoldering it only awaits the slightest stirring of these ashes to break forth again into purifying flame, lighting the plainest countenance with the most beautiful of glows, reflections from the flames of love. And how did I stumble onto the old, old story. By the simplest of means – observation. Yet I had seen the same picture many times before and it meant little to me.

I did not know what I would write about when I came to the casino, but that same little spark in my own heart bade me write you, so I came in and stood in line with some impatience to get my allowance of paper & envelopes. After receiving a double share from the sweet-faced old lady behind the desk, I began circulating around the room looking for a place to write. And as I went I became still more impatient, for every place seemed full. You see as yet the beauty and significance of the scene had not impressed me. But as I passed on, I began to scrutinize each man more closely, in hope of finding one nearly finished and as I passed man after man, here one writing, there one laboriously doing up or addressing a package, my chaos of thots began to take shape, my impatience left me, and suddenly the beauty of it surged over me as a young fellow at the desk near which I stood, oblivious to his surroundings lovingly, almost reverently folded the little souvenir handkerchief he had been holding, and carefully placed it in the envelope he had just addressed. Then he once more carefully withdrew it and looked at it as tho picturing the joy it would bring those who received it. And with a last caress he returned it again to the envelope gave it a final pat and turned again to his writing, his face illuminated by the fires of love burning in his breast. And as I look about me I see that same reminiscent, loving look in nearly every face, softening and relieving the stern harsh lines the last few months have brought. Those souvenirs are all bought at the sacrifice of some trip or anticipated pleasure of their leave period. And as those letters are written concerts, trips, cafes, etc, are all calling one to forget and enjoy life, as of old, after months of isolation, suffering & death in the lines. Yet all the places are filled, and men who hate writing in the ordinary sense wait patiently for their turn at the desks. Why? Because the fire of love (for sister, brother, mother, father or friend or sweetheart) makes them wish to share the thots, the scenes, the pleasures they are enjoying. And so I have come to feel more strongly than perhaps ever before that love is the strongest, purest truest phase of life or perhaps life and love are inseparable phases of our being. And so perhaps you can get a little of my meaning from the little lace collar I mailed you for your birthday the other night in case my letter isn’t quite clear, for I yet remember the loving little pats I gave it as I addressed it and sent it on its way to the Dearest little Sister a Soldier Boy could Have. Oh, how I hope you get it, for it bears my love direct to you. Write and tell me all about your birthday.

Yesterday we went to the to the top of Mt. Revard on the cogwheel railway, hoping to see Mt. Blanc with the glasses but when we got there we were right on a cloud tho it was clear when we started up. But the scenery was beautiful and the trip of an hour and a half up on the cogwheel well worth while.
Then we borrowed some skis up there (free for soldiers by Y.M.C.A.) and had some fine rides – and tumbles. Got back just in time for dinner, 6:30 P.M. The day before that we took a trip on the boat across and up the lake to the old Abby. It was founded back in the early days of Christianity by St. Bernard, was used as a burial place for the kings and prices of France and Italy for many years, but was nearly destroyed by the French Revolution. Was reclaimed & rebuilt by King Felix of Italy in 1824 and changed hands from Italy and France and back several times until finally it was deeded forever to the King of Italy by France in 1860 because it had been reclaimed by Felix who was buried there with his wife and contained the restored graves of so many of the other Italian Kings and Princes. 15 monks have charge of the Abbey, one of them having been there for 30 years now. The paintings and carvings are mostly modern but they are truly wonderful.

On the same trip we saw the pass thru which Hannibal led his army across this mountain range in his march against the Romans. And after a years army experience one realizes more than ever the magnitude of his task and wonder of its success when they consider that he went thru an even more rugged part of the Alps Mts. than we have here before he was finally able to strike at Rome from the North.

Now I’ve got to close.

Love once more to you all and may many more happy birthdays come to my dear little sister Susan – Her Brother
Corp. Geo. Sherwood, Hdqts Co
108th U. S. Engineers, Amer. Exp. Forces

The Prairie Division in WWI

On March 14th, William Lewis Judy, on officer in WWI, wrote a short piece on the contributions of the Prairie Division (the 33rd Division) of the American Expeditionary Force. On March 16th, Great Uncle George Sherwood wrote home and included a copy of the mimeographed hand-out that he had received. I have looked around the internet and have not found a copy of it thus far. Apparently William Judy wrote a book called A Soldier's Diary which gave a day by day account of his experiences in WWI, but it seems to be out of print. But his immediate impressions are recorded here, as usual saved by Susan Sherwood Weber our loveable if slightly eccentric pack-rat. It was obvious that in the year that George was "over there" he received at least 150 letters, none of which seem to have survived the trip home and which is explained in his letter.

Echternach, Luxembourg
March 16, 1919

To All the Dear Ones at Home:
Sometimes I wonder if you don’t get rather tired of these letters sent to you all collectively, but there isn’t news or time to write each one separately, and after all I presume it is as much joy or sorrow to read my poor attempt at correspondence all together as it would to write short missives to each.
This is Sunday and as I’m sitting on the bed in my room with a book as a writing pad, instead of being in the office. Just went thru a bunch of the old letters for home, dating back as far as Nov and reluctantly consigned all but two to the flames as it is impossible to keep much of that sort of thing around when it comes to a move. While no moves seem to be contemplated for awhile, I would much rather go thru them (the letters) at leisure and treasure up their messages in my heart and pick out a few to keep a little longer, than to have to throw them to the fire in an impersonal bundle when orders do come. I hope they come soon as I think I need a change of scene. I feel like a bird in a cage.
The ankle is getting along as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Now use only our cane and while it is very sore and pains while walking or using it, it seems to be slowly improving.
There is a little rumor now that we may go home via Germany & Holland. Wouldn’t that be a proper and fitting sequence of events and windup for the career of the Fighting Yellow Cross Div in Europe. Am sending a little write up one of the divisions men got up.
We have had some wonderful weather the past week but today is cloudy and cool and not so pleasant. Expect to go to the cinema this evening as there is a continuance of the show we saw there last week which is pretty good. Don’t you want to go along?
Worked over at the office all of the morning and ought to be there this P.M. but don’t propose to do it as my system is crying for relaxation. Someway, they can’t seem to be able to let us office force get away from it holidays or Sundays any more than they did in campaign times. I wonder what they think mere men are made of. It isn’t making me any thinner but never had my nerves as raw or felt so keyed up as I have the last two months. But the old German saying applies very well. “So geht es im krieg.” Will I know how to act on a Sunday back in civilian times I wonder?
By now I hear you all worrying and saying “poor overworked boy.” So I’ll hasten to add that there is probably no need for worry, and I guess what ails me most is “I want to go home.” Now we are stared in the face with the proposition that our files do not meet the Gov’t requirements, so the general upheaval for the next month won’t probably leave me much time for lengthy or interesting letters. Expect Johnnie and Willets back from leave this week which will make us less short handed, tho.
The enclosed service stripe is my very first one, and was worn on my overcoat till we got some new ones at Aix-les-Baines. The ticket took me to the top of Mt. Revard and back while we were at Aix on the cogwheel railroad. The yellow slip is a check from a ticket to the local cinema. May have sent one of those before. Now I’ve got to ring off and shave.
Love again and again to all.
George Sherwood
108th Engineers, Amer. E. F.
Censored: P.S. Thompson
Captain U.S.A.

T H E P R A I R I E D I V I S I O N
By William Lewis Judy.

All right reserved except where credit is given.* of course this was 1919

The Thirty-third Division has a nick-name, a distinguishing insignia, and a rattling reputation.

In the States they called us the “Prairie Division”. Over here we are the “Yellow Cross Division.” When we shall shake hands again with the Goddess of Liberty and smell again that familiar smell of the Chicago Stock Yards, we shall once more be the “Prairie Division”.

Now, who are we, anyhow? Well, we fought with the bloomin’ British on the plains of Picardy in Northern France in July and August, 1918, and when the decorations were handed out on that bright summer’s day on the green behind the old chateau at Molliens-au-Bois, King George himself was there to pin the medals on the breasts of the Illinois boys.

We fought side by side with the Tommies, -- good pals they were, -- and with the Americans of the British Empire – those fighters after our own hearts – the Aussies – I mean the Australians, the daredevils of a rough and ready Empire. They it was who paid us the biggest compliment ever given a Yank crowd over here. The whole world now knows the famous phrase and I’ll tell you how it came about. The Aussies celebrated the Fourth of July with us at Hamel when we went over the top together up near Albert, and after it was all over, they took us by the hand and said: “You’ll do us, digger, but you fellows are damned rough”. Here, too, took place an event that shall be forever glorious in the annals of England and America, here for the first time in history the soldiers of the two mighty nations fought side by side in a common cause, and this event shall grow more glorious and more sacred in years to come when these two mighty nations look back to it as the first symbol of the new and greater union between them.

We fought with the French and now we are to get fifty Croix de Guerre[1]. The King of Belgium heard about us and is sending us eight of his medals. The Congress of the United States
gave us seven Medals of Honor. They have given forty-eight to the whole A.E.F. and the Prairie Division is wearing one-seventh of the total. Pretty good, eh? The big safe at Division Headquarters is now too small for it is crammed with D.S.C[2]’s., from our own G.H.Q. – one hundred and ten to date, to be exact – and more of them on their way.

We have a lot of doughboys like Corporal Paul Hobschied of the 131st Infantry. He’s wearing a D.S.C. because up at Chipilly Ridge he laughed at the Boche snipers, made a dash at them, on his way stopped at a German dug-out, rapped on the door with a few hand grenades, and single handed chased out thirty German’s yelling “Kamerad”, and brought them back as prisoners.

Then there is Corporal Jake Allen, another of Joe Senborn’s boys. Jake and his squad charged a machine gun nest and himself stuck the bayonet into five Germans. The fifth Boche was tough and the Corporal’s bayonet broke off inside of him. But Jake gave him the butt of the rifle, sent one more German to Kingdom Come, and captured the remainder of the crew. In the Prairie Division, we don’t look down on Corporals since these things happened.

We’ve a buck private in the 124th Machine gun Battalion, Clayton Slack – slack by name but not by nature. He’s going to get a Belgium Medal, a Croix de Guerre, a Medal of Honor, and maybe a lot of others, because all alone he rushed a machine gun nest, tagged ten German’s as prisoners, grabbed two loaded machine guns which were killing our men, turned ‘em around and gave the Germans Hail Columbia with a shower of their own bullets.

Now I come to the grand old man of ‘em all – Colonel Joe of the 131st, of the Dandy First of the Old Illinois National Guard. He’s sixty-three, but likes a fighting spree. Out in the front he went at Grossaire Wood, and led his men over the top, across No Man’s land, and on the run, took a hill that the Germans said they’d hold forever. They’re still there holding the hill, but hiding under the ground and some wooden crosses. Well, the Colonel had his steel hat knocked off by the burst of a shell, but say – have you seen him on dress parade? There’s a Distinguished Service Order which the King of England gave him and I think he’s the only American officer wearing one of ‘em. There’s our own D.S.C. – he’s got that, of course. And there’s a Belgium medal too that is his pride.

------Ask a Boche where he had the hottest time of his life and he’ll tell you at Consenvoye Bridge, when, Colonel Allen’s engineers n the lead, the Prairie Division chase him out of the Bois de Forges, held by the enemy for four years with the boast of the Boche that it could never be captured – especially by Americans. ------ [George added arrows & “Oh! You 108th!”]

We have fought everywhere in the A.E.F. We have been with the British, with the French, with the French Colonials, and with our own troops. There are three American Armies – First, Second and Third – and we’ve been in all of ‘em. There are nine American Corps and we’ve been in all of them except the First and Eighth. We’ve got the record in this regard.

Our troops have camped along the North Sea, on the Somme, on the Meuse, and on the Moselle. They have passed through Chateau Thierry; they have bivouacked in Germany; they have rested in the shadow of the Amiens Cathedral; they have marched through the shell-torn streets of Verdun; they have eaten bully-beef in Alsace-Lorraine; and now they are wintering in Diekirch that famous resort of the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. From Texas to Deutschland we have traveled and now we know it’s true what they say – “Join the Army and see the world.”

What Division captured more prisoners and more guns, and advanced more kilometers than any other Division except three of [or?] four? The Prairie Division.
What Division captured 1436 prisoners in one day? The Prairie Division.
What Division had a general wearing a wound chevron? The Prairie Division.
What Division was one of the five American Divisions rated by the German High Command as first-class? The Prairie Division.
What Division Commander was praised by G.H.Q because the horses of his Division and the care of them “stood as a perfect model of the standards that ought to exist in these matters throughout the Army? The Prairie Division.

Our Divisional colors are yellow and black; fast colors, guaranteed not to run. The design is a yellow cross on a black circular background two inches in diameter. Yellow is an unusual color for a fighting crowd, but in far-away Texas, when we marked our equipment for over-seas, Colonel Gardenhire had only yellow paint, and that is why we have used yellow. It’s a good color. It is the distinguishing color of the Cavalry and, in the Philippines, the Yellow Cross on Government property terrified the superstitious natives and kept them from stealing it. Over here it had the same effect on the Boche.

We are proud of the Yellow Cross and proud of the fighter who has been our leader from the day the Division was organized – Major General Geo. Bell, Jr., known by all the rank and file of the Regulars as “Do it Now” Bell.

When the French officially took possession of the City of Metz, the capital of Lorraine, on the 6th of October, 1918, bringing to pass their dream of half a century, the troops selected from the entire A.E F. to represent the Untied States in the grand parade before the President of the
French Republic, before Premier Clemenceau, Marshal Foch, Marshall Petain, field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig and our own General Pershing, were none other than a bunch of Chicago Lads, the battle scarred doughboys of the 131st Infantry, who had carried the Yellow Cross to victory every time they “hopped the bags.” They led the procession at Metz and the Governor-General of Lorraine said that their appearance and conduct merited the highest praise.

The boast of the Thirty-Third is that it never lost a fight, that it never received an order in battle which it did not carry out, and that an objective was never given to it that it did not take from the enemy on scheduled time. It is more than a boast – it is cold truth recorded in the books of the German armies as well as in the records o four own G. H. Q.

We came to France with a great reputation to uphold and high standards to maintain, for we are the Prairie Division; we hail from the fields of Illinois, out where the prairies begin their stretch, out where the East joins the West, and the best of the two is kept. Behind us are the traditions and glories of a great State – a State in which that other great war – the greatest until its time – gave to the nation its great leader in the White House – Abraham Lincoln, and its great leader in the field of battle – Ulysses S. Grant.

We have fought as worthy sons of worthy sires. We shall return from our long journey strong men and noble, victors and proud, because in the hottest of the battle, in the front ranks of the bravest, we fought as only Americans can fight. We shall march down Michigan Boulevard, victors and glad, yet with a bit of shadow in our faces, for we are not forgetful of our brave comrades who went away with us and with us did not return, because on the sacred soil of France they fell fighting bravely for their flag and the honor of their Division, and forever more they rest on the fields where their fame was won – in the shades of the forest of the Argonne and by the banks of the Somme.

They did not die in vain, neither have we fought in vain who fought by their side as they fell. They who in later years shall wear the Yellow Cross in token that they fought with the Prairie Division, shall wear a badge of high honor, and a fitting distinction for the brave men and fearless fighters they showed themselves to be.

Written At Diekirch, Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, Europe,
Fourteenth day of March, nineteen nineteen.

[1] The croix de guerre (English translation: War Cross) is a military decoration of both France and Belgium, where it is also known as the Oorlogskruis (Flemish). It was first created in 1915 in both countries and consists of a square-cross medal on two crossed swords, hanging from a ribbon with various degree pins. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Croix_de_guerre

[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Distinguished_Service_Cross_(United_States)

George Writes of Elsie Janis

15G
Somewhere in France
7-24-18

Dear Brother and Sister Weber:
Having received No 43 from “you all” as they say in Houston, I have by intricate? Mathematical processes arrived at the ultimate conclusion that I owe you 28 letters to date, not counting the numerous ones I hope you have on the way to me by now. If you don’t believe it, compare the Data at the head of this letter with that at hand and see if I can not prove my proposition. G. E. D.
Next, before I forget it, let me call to your attention the fact that we had the rare and extreme pleasure of hearing Miss Elsie Janice[his spelling][1] (of Stage and Vaudeville fame) give us an entertainment a la American, the other evening. If you have ever been skeptical regarding the sincerity or bravery of some of the actors, etc. who come over to entertain the boys, forget it.
Miss Elsie at least had proved herself a little soldier, at least most of us feel that way. For it is certainly not money or notoriety she is seeking here under Jerry’s nose, within reach of his shells and bombs, for she had plenty of both the former back in the states and she is taking much the same chance with the latter that we are in her work over here. From the time she stepped on the crude stage provided, until she finished her stories, songs and dance, she typified for most of us a real American girl, and she started a train of reminiscences which will stay with us for days.
Also, give the Y.M.C.A. and Red Cross a boost when you can, for they are much in evidence over here and in my estimation are doing all they can for the boys of all the allied armies. Now I’ll bring this to a hasty close with love to all my home folks.
Your loving brother,
George
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elsie_Janis Note that photo was stated to be copyright free.