Olin Bundrick
wrote to the Young People’s Society of Mt. Tabor Church

Mussy sur Seine, France

HQ. Co.    317  FA        AEF

January 6, 1919

Dear Friends,

With the thought of the New Year comes the thought of new beginnings and remembrance of the old friend back home.

Your letter of the November issue was received several weeks ago and you may be assured that I extremely enjoyed and appreciated every inch of it. If I had the tongue of an orator, if I had the painting talents of an artist, if I had the ability of a great statesman or if I had the compositions of a polished writer, I would impress upon each one of you how much a real letter is welcomed and looked forward to by the sons of Uncle Sam, the sons of your own church, who are thousands of miles from the ones they used to roam with in childhood and the companionship of youth.

With the arrival of each mail, each soldier anxiously awaits its delivery. The suspense is exciting and burning, coupled with fanciful dreams of expectations that in all that big bag of mail there is a fat, cheerful note from some friend, telling all the news from the Lakes to the Gulf and from Maine to California. When that longed for and pictured letter fails to arrive, some soldier with a downcast look of disappointment walks away and like the brown autumnal leaves begins to fall and wither like the dewy morning glories on a hot, scorching morning.

Are you fully convinced that I, as well as others, like to receive mail? If you are not, I’ve failed to prove my case and give it up for a hard job.

Christmas has passed and very pleasantly, I think, under the circumstances. On Christmas eve our company and another company located here in the same town gave a little entertainment in honor of the occasion and it helped out much as an entertainment and made us realize more fully the significance of the season of the year. One rarely thinks of good eatings in connection with the army but on Christmas day we had a dinner worth talking about – one which even makes your mouth water to talk about it – turkey, duck, cake and just about everything which causes one to eat and then let out his belt to eat some more. You may rest assure I ate my share.

The YMCA on that same afternoon gave each of us a treat in a box marked “A Christmas Gift From The Folks Back Home” and we acted like school children each eager and anxious to get their box. But I must not forget to mention that the Red Cross also presented us with plenty of candy and cigarettes for those that wanted them.

Then on the following Saturday afternoon we played a big football game with one of the batteries in our regiment. So you see, although separated from relatives and loved ones, we made the most possible out of the day, which brings hope and peace to the world. Yet deep down in each one’s heart I am sure there was an emotion and singular feeling which could only be reconciled by thoughts of the folks back in America.

Today we are located in a small town in the north central part of France, about seventy-five miles southeast of Paris and on the Seine River. The Seine River has a more or less marked historical connection and importance in the country because of its course through the capitol. I have not been able to visit Paris yet but passed in the outskirts of it once.

The weather where we have been so far this winter has been pretty mild, except for a small snow and it rains almost continually. But don’t forget that nothing can keep an American soldier down. We get about anyhow.

You know we call the French people ‘Frogs’ and the other evening I tried to carry on a conversation with one of the fairer sex of those ‘Frogs’ commonly known as mademoiselle. It’s great fun. For the last check on my French vocabulary I think I registered about twenty-four words I knew so I had to resort looking and sign making to make myself understood. Don’t play with your imagination now!

How was the Federation this year? Hope our Society was well represented and by so doing the plans for the future will accomplish much and make a history for you. There should be a definite work for every organization. There should be a ‘mark’ in view, a goal to fulfill. After the mark has been reached, after the requirements have been fulfilled, there is no need for the ceasing of the work. Have it as a New Year’s motto to do things two-fold: to go twice as far as you are asked and if necessity chooses a limit, make that limit worth while.

History loved to record the names of persons who conquered the malice of their hate by this spirit of the double nature – this spirit of the second mile man. It is like the Old Greek, chosen in a joke to be town scavenger, who filled the office with such high serviceableness that thereafter in all Greece, the office was an honor.

Men, like blind Fawcett becoming Postmaster General of England – men like Bunven glorifying Bedford Jail with the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ – persons of the spirit of the four marines from the British ship Wagner of whom Stevenson tells us. They were compelled to remain on a desert island because the lifeboats could hold no more. They stood on the shore and gave three cheers when the boat pulled off with “God Save the King” for a tiger. History delights to honor persons like those and thereby endorsing God’s valuation. Make a history. Of course you understand I did not intend to write a sermon. It is the interest I have for your welfare and success. Next time I have a talk with you I hope to be there in person.

In a closing paragraph I will add the following: Do not wish for easy lives; wish to have something happen; do not wish for tasks equal to your powers; wish for powers equal to your tasks. Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle but you shall be a miracle. Every day you shall wonder at yourself, at the richness of life for others through you by the grace of God.  Sincerely,
Olin Bundrick
Observer 4/4/1919, p2

Olin Bundrick was honorably discharged from military service June 1919. He moved to Fort Motte where he was principal of a school.
Observer 6/17/1919, p5 and Observer 6/24/1919, p1; Observer 9/9/1919, p5

John E. Herbert
Mrs. W. L. Herbert hears from her son in France
December 11, 1918
My own dearest mother,

Your letters come in pairs these days but I think most of them reach me after so long a time. The last two, of Nov. 16 and 18 arrived yesterday.

I certainly wish the report about Papa going to Silverstreet to meet me had been true. But you can look for me when I send you a “Phone message”, about six months from now when I return to the USA. I hear of squadrons leaving on every occasion. Our time may come. We know not when. Here’s hoping.

I can’t see much chance of my going to England. I would like to see those people but it is pretty certain that I won’t.

With reference to that watch you have been so good as to get for me – I certainly do wish I had it right now, but before you get this I am hoping to be somewhere else. It may be that I would get it ok but most likely not. If I would, it would be a long time.

You mentioned the fact that Worth was expecting a discharge pretty soon. Have you any idea what he expects to do? Unless my mind makes a sudden change, old Oakland Farm is going to have to put up with this kid for quite awhile, if not a good long spell. I’m not coming home to play either, although it will be inexpressible happiness to see all that is so dear to me.

I think I mentioned not very long ago that I was not very far from Joan of Arc’s birthplace. Last Sunday I started out with three buddies and started walking, hoping to catch a truck. Well we walked about twenty-five miles and still no truck. About 2 pm we walked into the little town of DOMRENY. The first thing we saw was the little church where Joan of Arc used to worship. They were having service in the church at the time. I didn’t get to inspect it as I would like to have done. Just across a little street was the birthplace of Joan of Arc, a very small old stone building. Up on the hill about a half mile from the town on the very spot where it is said that she had the vision, is a cathedral erected in honor of this great heroine. The paintings on the walls in that cathedral are beautiful. I wanted postcard pictures of them all but I couldn’t get them.

Love to all, Your devoted son, John E. Herbert   72^nd Aero Squadron   AEF, France 
Observer 1/21/1919, p4

Dr. John B. Setzler wrote from France

Base Hospital #41         AEF      APO 702

September 29, 1918

Dear Mr. Wallace,

I have been wanting to write and tell you how much I enjoy your newspaper. Until recently, I did not realize how much it contributes to my contentment. I look forward to its arrival the same as a letter from home. Even when the paper is three or four weeks in getting to me it is still fresh news to me. I invariably turn to the editorials first and then I read the locals and personals.

I am writing to you about Base Hospital #41 (Univ. of VA Base Hospital Unit).

The hospital is located in St. Denis in the suburb of Paris. The buildings it occupies were used as monasteries in ancient times but in more recent times and to the present as a school for the daughters of the members of the ‘Legion of Honor’ – ‘École de Legion d’Honneur’. The buildings were turned over to the American Red Cross for us as a hospital the day before our unit landed in France and we were sent directly here. Am glad to say we are well pleased with our location. The buildings, though old, are remarkably well preserved and are well suited to hospital purposes. The rooms are large and well ventilated. Two of the rooms have two hundred beds each.

Of course the monastery would not be complete without walls, so here we have 75 acres of beautiful lawns, gardens and groves of trees surrounded by a high rock wall. This wall gives us the seclusion of the country, for there are only two gates for admittance, even though we are located in a city of a population of about thirty thousand. We have dubbed our home the “Oasis within the Desert”.

A large statue of Bayard stands on the lawn in front of the main building and there are many pieces of art scattered about over the place.

Adjoining one of the buildings and in fact opening into it is the Basilique of St. Denis, a most famous old cathedral built in the 12^th and 13^th centuries, desecrated and pillaged during the last century. The cathedral is a most remarkable building. In fact, it is the very standard of the Gothic style in the 13^th century. Its dimensions are 324 feet long, 117 feet wide and 87 feet high. The Abbey contains many monuments of the royalty of France. Several Popes have entered its portals.

By an unbroken tradition, in the early centuries the Abbey of St. Denis became the Necropolic of France, so that by 1793, the year of the Great Terror, there lay in the royal vault, side by side, 53 kings, queens, princes and princesses and loyal servants of the country.

Of the many rich relics and artistic marvels very few have been saved. Its most precious gem, being now the oriflame. This is the royal standard presented by Pope Leo to Charlemagne as the Defender of Christendom on December 25, 800. Of course the genuine oriflame has had to be replaced many times. On its crimson silk it bears the white cross of the Crusaders. During the present war the oriflame is attended by Stars and Stripes and by the Union Jack.

I have visited the cathedral several times and every time I find something of interest that I had not see before.

In addition to the buildings that we occupy, tents have been erected on the lawns so that now the hospital has a capacity of twenty-six hundred patients. This, I believe, makes it the largest hospital in the Paris area. However, to the present, it had not been used to its capacity. At present we have a little over two thousand patients. Until a few weeks ago the hospital was used as an evacuation hospital – only the severely wounded and those who could be returned to duty early being kept here for any length of time. The others were evacuated to hospitals further back. That reminds me of the fact that the hospital is getting to be some distance from the front. When we first arrived here (At the beginning of the Allies drive) we could hear the rumbling of the big guns in the distance. But they are too far away now.

The spirit of our boys is fine. It is great to work with them. In fact, they make ideal patients. They very seldom complain and they always appreciate everything that is done for them. They are quite a different type from what one meets in civil practice. In civil practice the patient very often gives you the feeling that he considers he is granting you a special favor in permitting you to attend him. Here the opposite is true.

They are always jolly. You would be surprised to go through the wards and see how comfortable they seem to be. It is seldom that you hear ‘groans’. It is not because they have been ‘doped’ either. I have been very much surprised at the small amount of morphine that is required. Most of the fellows are anxious to get back to their companies. That too has been surprising to me. That is certainly no ‘play game’ now going on at the front.

I enjoy listening to the fellows telling of their experiences ‘at the front’. One of my patients who was hit by a machine gun bullet in the forearm, fracturing both bones just above the wrist, gave just a little while ago his account in ‘No Man’s Land’. His description is typical of several that I have heard. I will try to give it to you in his words.

He says: “One finds it very interesting in ‘No Man’s Land’. When you are out there your own men accidentally hit

you from the rear. Then the Germans purposely hit you from the front. You hear a bombing plane over your head and he might foolishly drop a bomb on you from above. All that time you are lying on a dozen barbed wires at a place not padded. The Germans throw up a few skyrockets and everything around you is as light as day, where formerly it was dark. It is a lot of fun when its over.           

General Sherman had a pretty good idea of war. But I believe he would have trouble expressing himself had he contended with the machine gun, gas, shrapnel, airplanes and a hundred other little toys of war.” Then as an after thought he said, “Well the German has nothing on me. I paid him back five or six times for my cracked up arm. But I want to get back to help square up for what he has done to my pals. How long do you think it will be before I can get back?”

This fellow is no exception. The spirit of comradeship is wonderfully developed in army life. Many of the boys said the hardest part of their job was to go forward when their comrade falls and calls for help.

Among our patients we have a couple hundred colored troops. The first I cared for was a man from Edgefield County. He ducked too late and had been hit with a piece of shrapnel to his shoulder. The colored patients were given the same treatment that white patients receive – absolutely no distinction is made. They occupy the same wards, go to the same meals etc.

The Red Cross, the YMCA and the Knights of Columbus furnish entertainment, distribute magazines and papers and give cigarettes, chocolate and chewing gum to the patients several times during the week.

I help to censor the patients’ mail and it is very seldom I find a letter that doesn’t have something nice to say about the Red Cross. If the folks back home want to do something special for our boys – tell them to write – cheery letters – and keep writing. Do not wait for an answer before writing again.

The news from the front is good. Marshal Foch is having things pretty much his way at present. His strategy is working. The allies no longer fight isolated battles. They strike in succession and timing it so that each army supports the other.

The fight of the American soldier is magnificent. They have won the hearts of the allies. He is at his best now, fighting with vigor, bravery and an endurance, which would compel the admiration of the entire world. Their slogan is “Hell, Heaven or Hoboken” and Hoboken seems to be the preference at this time.

Ties of Friendship and good will between the French and Americans grows stronger daily. They are a great people. I have never heard or seen any of the Newberry boys. I tried to locate them but so far have been unsuccessful.

I am in good shape and never felt better in my life. Here’s hoping your health will be fully restored.

I enjoy my work and am glad I am over here.

Very sincerely, John B. Setzler

Lieut. John B. Setzler MC

Base Hosp. #41   AEF   APO  702

DR. JOHN B. SETZLER wrote a letter to his uncle Dr. George Ben Cromer

Russian Prisoners of War Camp

Crossen on the Oder, Germany

APO  46

June 19, 1919

Dear Uncle Ben,

I don’t know of any better way of occupying my time than by writing you a few lines.

Hurrah for Newberry! I see that the old town is still on the map. I have watched her from this side of the water with no little concern during these many calls that have been made on the America people in the past twenty-four months. It has given me pleasure to know that her response to each and every call has always ‘rung true’. Not once has she failed to reach her objective. That is a record in which every Newberrian can justly take pride. Again I say ‘Hurray for Newberry’ How much this fine showing has been due to your efforts, no one knows better than I do.

Just a few days before the close of the victory loan campaign a German Lieutenant remarked to me with ill-concealed rejoicing “It appears the American people are not responding very heartily to the Victory Loan Bonds.”

I replied, “Oh! They are not, aren’t they? Just you wait and see how they come out at the finish! If the American people don’t over subscribe the amount called for, you may put me behind those wires with the ‘Ruskies’ and feed me on the Ruskie soup for two weeks.”

You can imagine with what delight I accosted this same Lieutenant two days later with “I told you so” and then added, “The subscriptions are always beyond the goal and are still coming in.” And I missed the famous Russian soup. (All the food they get goes into a soup).

No doubt before you receive this the “Home Coming Celebration” will be an event of the past. My, how I would like to be in old Newberry that day! But, inasmuch as Uncle Sam thinks that my services are indispensable for the successful culmination of his work over here, I accept my lot without a grumble. Then too, after ‘having put my hands to the plough’ I never like to turn back until the job is finished. Anyway, it seems that those in authority over me have guessed as much and at present it looks very much like they are going to accommodate me. Conditions here in Germany are still very much ‘up in the air’. No one seems to know what to expect. Judging from reports it seems that the majority of the people are ready to sign the Peace Terms. Their attitude is anything rather than a continuance of the war. Naturally they are tired of the war and its accompanying train of desolation and misery.

The Spartacist and the Communist groups are calling upon the delegates to sign the treaty and afterwards make no attempt to carry out the terms imposed by it.

The present government says it will not sign the treaty as it stands at present because they contend “It will be impossible for Germany to fulfill the terms imposed by the treaty.”

Last night I asked Mr. Krauss, the man with whom I am boarding, what he thought of the situation.

He replied, “Well the prospects look brighter at the present. I hope the matter will soon be settled.” Then he added, “If it were left to me to decide, I wouldn’t sign the treaty. The terms are too hard.”

I asked him, “Do you believe that the terms are any harder than Germany would have imposed on the Allies had she been the victor?”

He shrugged his shoulders and said, “The terms are too hard. Germany can’t meet them. Let the Allies come in and occupy the whole of Germany.”

I replied, “It would be such a terrible pity to see these beautiful cities and villages along the Rhine destroyed and laid waste like the towns and cities of France and Belgium.”

He shrugged his shoulders again and then our conversation switched off to more pleasant subjects.

But before I leave the subject permit me to ‘air’ my view. It is true that the terms are hard. But to anyone who has visited the devastated regions of France and Belgium, it is difficult to see how the terms can be made too hard, especially so since we know who was the instigator of the whole abominable affair. Germany played the game and put up big stakes. She lost and she should be made to come across with the ‘ante’.

I am willing and I believe the same is true of the American people in general, to place the opinion of the Red Cross nurses and of the other women workers, who were in the thick of the fight and consequently have some grounds upon which to base an opinion against that of Miss Jeanette Rankin and those of her ‘stripe’. I know what their verdict would be with regard to the peace terms. Miss Rankin makes me tired! Ditto with regard to that political gang in Washington who are fighting the League of Nations. But enough of that.

As you see from the heading of this I have changed my boarding place again. This makes the fourth camp to which I have been assigned. I am getting to feel like a regular hobo. But I imagine I am at this camp now for keeps. It is very likely I shall be here when Gabriel toots his horn. We finished the work on tuberculosis at the camps last week and I have been sent here to relieve the medical officer on duty with the detachment of US Troops at this camp. The officer that I am relieving has a wife (Lucky boy!) and two little kiddies back in Illinois waiting and longing to see him. His wife had been in poor health for some time and he had been trying to get relieved. You see, it has fallen upon my lot to do the ‘Good Samaritan’ act. That is what being an old bachelor brings me.

Anyway, my lot could have been much worse. I struck this camp on Friday June 13 (Lucky 13). Perhaps that is why my first impression of the camp was favorable. The camp itself is one of the best I have seen. But perhaps I should not boast of that, for the very fact that it is one of the best camps in Germany may prove to be my ‘Jonah’. As soon as prisoners are repatriated from this camp, others from camps that are not so good are sent here to take their places. As a result, although we are constantly sending a few home, we can never bring the number in this camp to under four thousand. Then too, this may mean that this camp will be one of the last to close. Pleasant thoughts!

And then, added to this – while passing through Berlin a few days ago, a Red Cross Representative told me that he had just been requested to put in requisitions for three months provisions for the Russian prisoners. Right there my vision of getting home some time this summer faded into oblivion.

Well, if I had to spend my summer vacation (?) over here, I would rather spend it in this little ‘Burg’ than any other place I have struck since I have been in Germany. ‘Sour Grapes, eh?’ Well, not exactly. True, Crossen is only a small town with a population of 6,000 but it is one of the prettiest towns I have seen in Germany. Then too it is on the Oder River and the surrounding country is beautiful. I shall have something besides monotonous sand hills to look upon these nice long evenings. I didn’t know there were so many sand hills on all the earth as I have seen in Germany. I am not surprised that a German who is hardly eking out a living over here can go to ‘God’s Country’ and by adopting American methods, will pretty soon be living in easy circumstances.

This ‘German efficiency’ has been greatly over rated. With the possible exception of their ability to turn out substitutes for the real articles. I haven’t seen them do anything but what they can profit by studying American methods. But we have to hand it to them, that they certainly are there when it comes to turning out substitute goods. For instance, they can take paper and make a substitute for almost any article desired – and it will look pretty decent too. But as instance of ‘German efficiency’ in the agricultural line, I will cite the following: For the past two afternoons I have watched from my window two ploughs working. To run each plough requires a horse and two husky men  - one man to guide the plough and the other man to lead the horse. This is not an isolated case. I have seen the same at the other three camps that I have visited and it is typical of German agricultural methods. The more I see of other countries and other nations, the prouder I am of the fact that I am an American and come from the United States. ‘There is none better.’ But enough of that.

Well, for a change I am boarding with a German family, Mr. and Mrs. Krauss and Heinrich their 15 year old son. They appear to be very nice people and I know I am going to enjoy living with them. Luckily for me Mrs. Krauss speaks English a little bit, having lived for a year in NY about 23 years ago.  Consequently I can make my wants known at the table without ‘butchering’ the German language. Then too, this will give me a chance to let my sign language, one of my pet inventions, to rest awhile.

I still draw my regular army rations and turn them in to Mrs. Krauss. She was certainly delighted to get the flour, the bacon and the coffee. It was the first white flour she had in four years. We had regular ‘honest to goodness’ cake the next day. Even the ‘corn willie’ looks good to her. The arrangement suits me splendidly and I am sure all parties will gain by it. Very few of the items of rations that I furnish can be purchased on the German market at all. I have lived on them so long that any change would be welcomed.  But it so happened Mr. Krauss has a splendid garden with ‘bean crop’, asparagus and other vegetables; a large fruit orchard with four large trees of cherries just beginning to ripen and other fruit coming in later. Last but not least, he has a flock of goats and two of them are supplying the family with milk. Last Saturday night I drank my first glass of goat milk and enjoyed it too.

But perhaps that which pleases me most under the present arrangements is that here I will get a little taste of home life. My! It seems ages since I entered a private home! Mrs. Krauss keeps insisting that I make myself at home and you know that isn’t difficult for me to do.

Two ladies from Berlin are visiting here now and one of them plays the piano beautifully and strange to say, is very accommodating with it. Guess you remember that I am a regular ‘looney’ about music. That piano doesn’t get much rest while I am around the house.

I should like very much to know the opinion the family had of me after my first night here. I expect they sized me up as some kind of an old ‘crank’. As a final course of the first meal I ate with them, cigarettes were passed around. I thanked them but passed them up. So that they would not feel I had refused them because they were German cigarettes, I remarked that I did not smoke at all. Heinrich and I were the only ones at the table who did not take a cigarette. But I very soon made amends for my lack of training by passing around some American cigarettes. The two ladies who had already taken cigarettes, placed them aside and took mine. I have yet to see the American cigarettes fail to be a ‘hit’. I never go without them. They can open the door when everything else fails.  Mrs. Krauss said that Heinrich was too young to smoke cigarettes. So he and I sat there and watched the others smoke. Guess you know that the ladies in Germany and France too smoke just about as much as the men.

Well, they had another surprise coming to them, when later in the evening the beer was passed around. Again I ‘passed it up’. I don’t know whether Heinrich is too young to drink beer or whether he passed it up simply to keep me company. Anyway, we sat back and watched the others drink their beer. Right then, he and I became friends. You know beer in Germany takes the place of wine in France and soda fountain drinks in America. I guess I don’t miss much by not drinking the beer. Everybody says it is rotten – that it doesn’t have any ‘kick’ to it. It is probably due to the fact that they don’t have the grain to make the alcohol.

Leather goods and rubber goods are scarcer than hen’s teeth in these parts. I haven’t seen a German leather suit case or leather hand satchel, not even an old one, since striking this country. Even the supposedly ‘big dogs’ carry pasteboard or canvas suitcases when they travel. I don’t know how to account for it, unless it is that leather goods of all kinds were ‘called in’ as a war measure, even from the private families. If someone only had contact with German soldiers they would not realize there was a leather shortage here, for all of the German soldiers have leather boots and shoes. As soon as one enters the towns and villages he notices at once that leather shoes and leather goods of all kinds were conspicuous in their absence. Wooden shoes and canvas shoes of every description have replaced leather shoes in the shop windows. Now that the weather is warm, it is not an uncommon sight to see ladies on the street and in the fields wearing wooden sandals with only the stockings that God gave them on their feet. Perhaps there is a method to that! They don’t have to darn the holes they wear in their stockings. Each stocking has an ‘auto darner’.

Well, I guess you will agree with me I have used up some time this evening writing this letter.

Kindest regards to Mrs. Holland and Carolyn.

Your nephew, John B. Setzler
Observer 7/15/1919, page 3

January 1918 Dr. John B. Setzler was ordered to Fort Oglethorpe and later to the Univ. of VA base hospital unit at Camp Sevier. He was transferred to NY where he was shipped to France and was stationed at Base Hospital #1, St. Dents, a suburb of Paris. December 1918 he was promoted to Captain. In April 1919 he was transferred from France to Berlin to relieve a prisoner-of-war camp doctor. Sometime before October 1919 he returned from overseas and was

honorably discharged. In late October he had an article printed in the Observer stating he was appointed Chairman of the Newberry County Red Cross Chapter and requested the public to do their part in its organization.

Observer 4/9/1918, p8; Observer 6/25/1918, p8; Observer 7/23/1918, p8; Observer 10/4/1918, p1; Observer 10/22/1918, p1; Observer 12/6/1918, p3; Observer 12/17/1918, p8; Observer 7/15/1919, p3; Observer 4/8/1919, p8; Observer 10/31/1919, p1

Fred D. McLean
son of Edgar L. MacLean, known as “Dutch” to his friends was one of the best athletes that Rayen High School in Youngstown Ohio ever had. Later he starred at athletics at Brown College before coming to Newberry SC. He came to Newberry from Ohio in his senior year, graduating 1914. The following year he was a member of the college faculty and private secretary of the College President, Mr. Harms. In the summer of 1915 he worked as a reporter on the Observer instead of returning to his home in Ohio. He coached the college basketball and baseball teams 1915-1916 and was himself a fine athlete and player.

A few days before the closing of the school year in June 1916 he arranged his affairs in perfect order and left Newberry, telling no one where he was going. His friends assumed he had gone to join the allies in the war in Europe and had secretly left to avoid any pranks by his friends and dissuasions of President Harms.

Sometime later it was learned he had joined the Canadian Forces named for Princess Patricia, known as the Princess Pat’s. In 1917 his father received official notice by the Canadian government, of his death on Vimy Ridge and until a week ago had mourned him as dead. His father mourned the news and was ever so thankful his other two sons, William and Hugh, had both escaped harm.

When the phone rang at the father’s home at 349 St. Louis Street in Youngstown Ohio on Sunday night 2/29/1920 Mr. MacLean, who worked as a clerk at the Engineer’s Office, reluctantly got up from his armchair to answer. He thought it would probably be someone trying to transact business out of hours. His ‘Hello’ was non too cheery but it soon lightened up when he heard the voice of his son on the other end.

Lieut. MacLean had not written home or heard from home in so long he had forgotten the house number and the telephone call on Sunday night was to get directions from his father. When he arrived home he told of how he had been gassed at Vimy Ridge in a charge with the Princess Pats and was in a London Hospital for six months.

Upon his discharge from the hospital he secured a transfer to the American Army and served throughout the remainder of the war. Then he was given a position with the auditing department of the army, which he still held. He expected to be discharged in a week or two,

After his visit with his father he returned to NYC without discussing much about what he had been through. He had said that if he had known his father thought him dead he surely would have written a letter denying the report.   Observer 3/2/1920, p1

Chalmers Brown writes from overseas

May 31, 1918

Dear Mother,

Did you think we would do it? We had a very interesting journey all the way but it was exceedingly so yesterday afternoon. Two submarines came into sight and after an exciting fire for a short time we won and the subs are no more.

Our command is resting over here in camp before we continue on our way.

You should see this beautiful country. I am sure you would go wild over it. Just why, I am not permitted to tell. Where we are is really a place in the history on the prison camp of one of France’s greatest generals and believe me it is complete.

The American Forces occupy this camp and this port exclusively and they have use for it too. Men and soldiers are so numerous it does not seem there are any left for other places and they are all ours too.

Ryan Moore, brother of Dr. H. H. Moore is here right across the street from me. He is doing fine and looking dandy. He has just arrived. We had a little chat and had to fall in. When I finish this note he and I will talk again. Fred Gilbert of East Main Street in Newberry is here. I have seen him and will look him up again. Clink is over here too. These are the only southern boys with us. This is about all I can tell you now. Will write soon from somewhere. I am doing fine and raring to get at the Huns. Love to all of you.

Corp. Chalmers Brown, MDNA   AEF, with the Italian Army     Observer 7/1/1918, p5

Chalmers Brown of the 81^st Division was honorably discharged from military service July 1919. He took a job working for the MOWER Garage and drove vehicles from Detroit to Cincinnati and then shipped them to Newberry.    Observer 4/16/1920, p8

John Fellers
Thomas Fellers
Mr. and Mrs. L. M. Fellers received letters from their boys

December15, 1918

Dearest Mother and Father,

It is now Sunday pm and I am in an old French woman’s home using her table and everything is quiet except she is running a coffee mill and talking of course. There is very little I understand but I believe if I stayed in France about twelve years I would be able to speak French.

I returned to my company a few days ago from Languer France where I had been attending officer training school. I passed all the examinations for 2^nd Lieut. and after the armistice orders came saying not to commission any more men in the AEF—just about twelve hours before I was to receive my commission. So I am still a Sergeant and only too glad to remain as one, for I was willing to give up anything to see this war stopped. Therefore I only have a certificate showing I am eligible of being a second Lieutenant.

We are having a very nice time now. President Wilson landed in France last Friday. He is now in Paris and yesterday there was celebration in that town.

As I told you in my last letter I have seen Thomas. He is now with the Division. He was over to spend the night with me several nights ago. I do wish you could see him. He is as fat as a pig. I don’t think I have gained any but gee! I have been working. Thomas is now hauling supplies for the Division so he is kept very busy. He said to tell you – if you don’t hear from him at the correct time he was just too busy but would write first chance.

The papers have sure had some write-ups about the fighting of the 27^th and 30^th Divisions. They deserve every bit of it (praise) for it is all true. I believe it is the best outfit in France or it was at one time. But all the outfits that had to do fighting are about the same. We are having plenty of rain and it looks like the sun will never shine. This is the rainy season in Paris and I think it lasts all winter.

I am patiently waiting for my box for I know it has something in it I want. Give George Nickas my best regards and tell him I often think of the good meals I have eaten with him and for him to stay on the job, for I am coming home real soon. Just think, only nine more days until Christmas and there is no chance of me being with you personally. I will be with you in mind and hope is coming that you will spend a merry Christmas. I think we all have plenty to be thankful for as we can spend it in peace. We are now living in a small French Village and drilling only about seven hours a day but none of us mind that for it is far better than to be up stopping bullets. Are you having any cold weather and who do you have building your fires. With lots of love to everyone and heaps for you two.

Your devoted son Johnnie Fellers                    Co. ‘K’, 118^th Inf.  30^th Div.        Observer 1/71919, p4

MR. AND MRS. L. M. FELLERS received a letter from their son, Johnnie, who was unable to come home with his division which had arrived in Columbia SC.

March 13, 1919

France

Dearest Mother and Father,

I guess you are thinking that I have stopped writing. Not yet, but I have been very busy moving around. So I waited until I reached my destination. I don’t think I will be here for more than a few weeks and then I will be on my way home.

I guess my division has reached the US by now and are having a big time and I can just see Thomas now smiling when he receives his discharge.

I can now walk on my leg real good but I am just like a baby learning to walk. I am enjoying life and good health, so please don’t worry about me for I will be OK in a few days. I will be in the good old USA before long. I don’t think it will be any use for you to write me anymore until you hear from me again for I am being moved around so much that my mail can hardly keep up with me. I believe I will be moved from here to a boat in a few days. But anyway, I will give you my present address: Base Hospital No. 113. APO No 939, Ward No. 4, Saveny France. Give my best regards to everyone and tell the boys I will be home later.

Love to all and heaps for you two, Your devoted Baby, Johnnie      Observer 4/4/1919, p2

Sergeant John Fellers, son of L. M. Fellers, was detained in a hospital in France with trench fever, the trouble settling in his leg and he was unable to walk. He was a member of Co. K, 118^th Inf. 30^th Div. He sent a telegram announcing his arrival in NYC and was treated in a hospital there. Later he was transferred to the hospital at Camp Jackson where his mother remained with him until he was able to come home. May 1919 he was honorably discharged and at home.

Observer 1/7/1919, p4; Observer 3/25/1919, p5; Observer 4/4/1919, p2; Observer 4/4/1919, p8; Observer 4/15/1919, p8; Observer 5/27/1919, p8

December 14, 1918
Dear Ones at Home,

Was so glad to get Sarah’s letter, which I received last night. I will try and get one off in return, that is, if I can stay awake long enough. I am real tired tonight but I must write home if there is any chance at all.

I am feeling just fine these days. Do hope it will continue for I do love to work when I am feeling good. I guess you have heard from Johnnie by now. I was sure glad to see him. I had a load to go close to where he is a few nights ago and so I went by and spent the night with him. We talked and talked until we both fell asleep. He was writing to you when I went in. I told him to tell you I was OK and would write to you first chance. I go to see him every chance I get. It is not very far where he stays. I can run by in a few minutes in my truck.

I have seen almost everyone I know in the Division. They are doing fine. All seem glad to see us as well as we were with them.

Mama – guess who I ran into a few days ago – Georgie Neel. It was a surprise, but sure a glad one. Will write when I get a chance but we don’t have much time for such since we are supplying our Division. I am so glad to do it though.

I know you all missed Azile when she left you for her school. She is so much company.

I will say goodnight. With lots of love,

Your devoted son, Corp. Thomas M. Fellers, Co. ‘B’  105 Motor Supply train,  30^th Div. Observer 1/71919, p4

Thomas Fellers married Miss Mattie Lovelace on 11/23/1922 officiated by Rev. L. P. Boland. The bride was the daughter of B. O. Lovelace and the groom was a WW1 veteran and farmer at the Colony section of the county.    Observer 11/28/1922, p1

George B. Sligh
son of R. C. Sligh of Newberry wrote to the Newberry Post Master

Chicago, March 11 1918

Mr. W. A. Hill,

My Dear Mr. Hill,

It gives me great pleasure to have the occasion to write to you. You can without doubt appreciate my feelings as a young man of my age with reference to the world strife in which the young men, together with the entire country, are taking such a noble part. I feel it my duty to offer my services to this great cause. In order to get in that department in which I will be the most efficient and with the least further delay possible I have decided to enlist. I am entering an application for examination for entrance into training school for a commission in the aviation section of the army.

It is necessary for me to accompany my application with three letters of recommendation. If you feel you are in a position to favor me with such a letter, I assure you I will appreciate it very deeply.

This division of the army requires technical ability and I feel that my education and experience with the Westinghouse Electric Manufacturing Co. has been such as to especially qualify me for the division.

I have been with the Westinghouse Co. since July 1913 and during the past three years have been connected with the Automobile Equipment division. I am now Western District Service Representative with Headquarters in Chicago.

Trusting that you are enjoying good health and prosperity and that I shall hear from you in the near future.

Very Truly Yours, George B. Sligh       5550 Indiana Ave. Chicago Ill.               Observer 3/15/1918, p4

George Baxter Sligh was a 1913 graduate of Newberry College. He moved to Pittsburg PA to become an employee of Westinghouse Co. In June 1915 he visited his sister Mrs. Charles T. Lamb of Gainesville GA. Later that year he was transferred from Pittsburg PA to Chicago Illinois.

James F. Long
France

October 5, 1918

Dear Brother and Family,

I will take pleasure in answering your letter which I received from you today, which Nannie had written September 15. Was sure glad to hear from you. I am doing fine.

I received a letter from Dock and Rosa the other day that was written around October 3. Dock was telling me about you and some of the children being sick. Sure hope you are now recovered. I sure was surprised to hear of Karl’s death. It sure did shock me when I read it. Such things cannot be helped. I know that Fannie and Theo are worried. But the poor little fellow is at rest where I hope and pray we will all be some day when our time comes. Dock said that Fannie and Theo and some of the children were sick when he was writing to me.

I guess everything is right busy around Newberry now, for I guess everyone is selling his cotton and spending his money. That is the way they usually do. Rose said they were getting along fine gathering mine. I am sure glad for it. I didn’t have a chance to gather it but if nothing happens I will be ready to start another farm, for it won’t be long now before the war is over. Just as quick as everything gets back in shape I will be home.

We are within hearing distance of the guns and they sound loud. They keep us busy now.

Well, I had better stop now for I haven’t much to write. You be good and stay well until I see you again. Write me whenever you get  a chance and tell me all the news.

Your loving brother, Pvt. James F. Long

Co. ’F’, 3rd Corps, Artillery Park   AEF, France

I had my pictures made over here about two weeks ago and thought I would send you one.

The following letter from James F. Long, dated October 5, 1918 was received by his brother George Long on November 28, 1918. His brother J. L. Long received one the same day and bearing the same date. Both letters showed the French postmark of November 10, 1918. It is evident the writer dated his letters a month behind the time for it must have been written November 5, instead of October 5. Private Long’s father, M. M. Long of the lower part of the county received a telegram from the war department at Washington on November 26, 1918 telling him that his son died of Influenza in France the 8^th of October. It is evident that there is an error somewhere. One of the dates is wrong. It was obliged to be November 5 when the father Mr. Long was told that M. Theo Long’s son Karl died October 2, 1918. The next day a member of the family wrote to Private Long telling him of the death and Private Long, in his letter dated October 5, speaks of having received the letter – just three days after it was written, which was of course impossible.  His letters to his brothers must have been written November 5, not October 5.

The telegram from the War Department—that must have been sent from Washington on November 25, instead of October 25. Private Long evidently died three days after writing home to his brothers. Either that or there was another James F. Long in the AEF who died October 8, 1918. Private Long’s three brothers have been hoping that the report of the death of their brother is a mistake and that he is still alive. Congressman Dominick telegraphed to the War Department to see if he could get the facts straightened out but had not heard anything before leaving for Washington on Sunday. He will continue the investigation there.

James F. Long, 30 years old son of Mike M. Long, left for France in August with Co. ‘F’ of the 3^rd Arty. and was reported to have died 11/8/1918 in France of pneumonia following the flu. The newspapers reported he was not married and was survived by his father, a sister Miss Rosa Long and five brothers: J. Eb Long, M. L. Long, Theodore Long, J. L. Long and G. L. Long of Newberry. Later his two brothers received letters written by him with various dates which contradicted the date of his death. Congressman Dominick looked into the matter and found that the report was in error. James F. Long was alive and in good health. James Long, arrived from overseas in NY and was honorably discharged and at home in June 1919. James F. Long of Prosperity married Miss Annie L. Werts of Saluda SC at the Betheden Parsonage on 7/29/1922 officiated by Rev. L. P. Boland.

Observer 11/29/1918, p8; Observer 12/3/1918, p4; Observer 12/13/1918, p8; Observer 6/13/1919, p8; Observer 6/17/1919, p8; Observer 8/4/1922, p4

James Frederick Long 74 years old died 5/21/1963 at a Columbia Hospital. He was a native of Newberry, son of Michael and Victoria Schumpert Long and was a grocer before retirement. Surviving were his wife Mrs. Annie Werts Long; a son Cephus W. Long of Florence SC; a brother J. L. (Doc) Long of Newberry. Burial was in the cemetery of Colony Lutheran Church of Newberry SC. Whitaker Funeral Home was in charge.

Julian White
writes home to Folks

Antrecourt France

November 24, 1918

Dearest Mama and Home Folks,

For the past month communications between us has almost been impossible for we have been constantly on the move. I had wanted to wire you to let you know I was well but where we have been there are no telegraph lines, no railroads and hardly anything else except trails and a devastated country.

We were in the last big drive of the war and have been up across ‘No Man’s land’, the conquered territory. In fact the old 54^th was the first of any army to really get back into the country the Germans occupied for four long years. We went through some hardships to do it but I am glad I was one of the soldiers to go. It has been a great experience and I have much to tell when I get back home.

My Division was relieved on the 19th and we turned back again, hiking all the way. Yesterday brought our fourth day of marching to a close (Return trip). Today (Sunday) we have rested and cleaned up the best we could. I actually succeeded in getting a haircut and part of a bath. Both helped lots. A bath is something we seldom get. Once a month is considered often, six weeks the average, for the ordinary soldier on the front. Tomorrow we resume the march. When and where it will end I do not know. As we only get one day’s orders at a time. I understand we spend tomorrow night at Auzecourt, about 20 kilometers or 12 miles from here. Now we have good roads to march on and each step brings us nearer to civilization. I am still in the supply company but I have not been with them for a month. I am attached to the 2^nd BN, as supply sergeant. As usual, I like my work. In fact I like it better in every way. I am more independent and live better all around. I have five different places to choose from to eat  and hardly ever eat two succeeding meals at the same place. Then you must remember I handle all the rations for my BN. I never go hungry on a hike.

I think I have gotten all the letters from home as there seems to be no missed connections between any. Some are delayed in reaching me but am glad to get them just the same.

I will now write Mary a few lines.
Love, Your devoted boy, Julian

SERGEANT JULIAN WHITE wrote to his mother

Adrenan, Germany
May 7, 1919
Dearest Momma,

Tonight I am in a very nice town in Germany. We left Minot on May 2 and arrived here May 5. The trip was pleasant. We had plenty to eat and there was no hiking.

From Minot we went to Chatillion-sur-Seine on trucks. We spent the night there and entrained the following afternoon. Our train consisted of American box cars with seventeen of us in each car, so there was plenty of room. With us were five sergeants, two corporals, two cooks, a ‘Y’ man and several enlisted men. The cooks put up a stove; the ‘Y’ man furnished the cocoa and candy. We had plenty of chow and were well set. The train pulled out on time and we were on our way.

All of us sat near the doors where we could see the scenery. France is a pretty country when you are passing through it but I don’t like to stop there for too long. Ten months of living in France was enough for me.

About sundown we passed through Chatteau Villi and pulled into Bucon. That is where we detrained for one night last summer and spent our first night in France with the sky for cover. I’ve seen many such nights but I’ll never forget the one we spent by the RR train in Bucon last summer. Antreville is only two miles from there where we saw our first billet and spent a month in training. Much has happened since then.

Leaving Bucon, we went on. We dodged Chaumont, where general headquarters was and plunged into the night. We sat in our car and talked about different things we went through during the days of the war. Traveling through the country brought back old memories. We talked until 2 am and then went to sleep.

Next morning we woke up in Verdun. It is the same old war torn town we were in last November. We could see the hills we hiked over and the places we had camped. It was like living it all over again, only we were in a box car and not a dugout.

We were laid-over there nearly all morning. Happening to be walking down the train, who should I run into but Wyche Dickert who was in Newberry College the same year I was there. Of course I was glad to see him and learn he was in the 53^rd infantry.  The 53^rd and the 54^th are in the same Brigade. Now I know of four Newberry men who are in the 6^th Division. Bob Porter is now a Captain in a company of the 53^rd. Lt. Workman had good luck and is now in Oxford University. Wyche and I talked of old times home and the different things that a doughboy naturally talks about. Later on – our train was split and that is the last I have seen of him.

We got out of Verdun and crossed “No Man’s Land” again, my third trip across this stretch of country. Believe me, I have seen sights that Rockefeller or Carnegie with their millions can never see. Verdun was in the war for four years and the country around it sure bears the marks of war. Then there are the thousands of little crosses one cannot help but see. I’ve seen one small piece of land where there are five thousand graves. The crosses there are so thick they resemble a picket fence when seen from a distance.

In the Argonne there are other crosses which show what the Americans did. We were there too last November. And now the old 6^th is in Germany. It is a Division like any other Regular Army Division that does not get much praise. But I am glad I belong to it.

We did not go through Spincourt but went near it. You remember we were the first Americans to reach that town, but were relieved and had to hike back to France and spend six months almost before being allowed to come to Germany. So it goes.

We arrived in our last town in France about four pm. There our train was turned over to the Germans and we crossed the border into Lorraine. Alsace Lorraine, France, England, Germany—I have been in them all. Alsace is where we spent forty days in the trenches near Greadmer, a quiet sector. I spent five days in the hospital after coming out. It was the Flu – not shell-shock.

Lorraine is a wonderful country. Industry can be seen everywhere. Iron foundries and coal mines are in abundance. No wonder France wants it. We passed through a strip of country where the railroad was lined with ore for many miles.

Leaving that we followed the Moselle River for a long way. It flows through a beautiful valley and we passed some fine scenery. We passed out of Lorraine during the night and the next morning when I woke up we were standing in a German station. Having a little time I got out and walked over the town. Fritz was not up yet but we found American soldiers patrolling the town. I believe they were out of the 90^th Division which we will probably relieve about the 25^th. We found the town to be up-to-date and more like an American town than any I have seen yet. I went back to our car, cleaned up, had breakfast and shaved. Fritz did not wait for me to get through, but we fellows have learned to do anything in a box car.

A short run brought us back to Adreneau. We detrained and asked to be taken to our billets. We were led across the road and one of the finest residences in town was turned over to us. We can get our company kitchen and offices and everything in it. There are three stories and plenty of room in it for everybody. This sure beats French cow barns and hay lofts.

The shower bath is on the third floor with plenty of hot water. Oh boy! I had some bath last night. I almost thought I was home, only I missed my bed. Most of us sergeants have rooms to ourselves. Another sergeant and I are occupying a very good room above a German family. It is very nice, only we don’t have a bed. A little thing like that doesn’t matter though. We have electric lights and other conveniences we have not had for a long time. These Germans are up-to-date in every way. We can buy almost anything we want except food. Adreneau is a very good place to live, but I do not think we will be here more than three weeks. We will probably go back near Trier to relieve either the 89^th or the 90^th. The 4^th, a regular army division is occupying this area. I don’t understand exactly why we were sent here. I have received both of the checks you sent. Will probably get my pass later. Tell Dad I think of him often and will write soon. Love to all,

Your devoted boy, Julian Observer 5/30/1919, p5

Julian White, a member of Central Methodist Church was drafted and sent to Camp Oglethorpe December 1918. He sent a cablegram to his family stating he had arrived safely across the Atlantic. After serving his time he arrived from overseas at the NY port and was taken to Fort Mill on Long Island. From there he was taken to a camp in Illinois where he was discharged. After seeing his family in Newberry, he returned to Detroit Michigan for employment with the Ford Motor Company. He learned the auto trade in Detroit and returned to Newberry via Baltimore, driving a Ford Touring car, self starter. Julian then accepted a position with the Fridy Motor Co. of Newberry. He also spent time in Charlotte getting further instructions on generators and starters.

Observer, 1/11/1918, p8; Observer 3/15/1918, p8; Observer 7/30/1918, p8; Observer 6/13/1919, p8; Observer 6/27/1919, p8; Observer 9/19/1919, p8; Observer 11/4/1919, p8; Observer 6/1/1920, p8; Observer 6/8/1920, p8

Nully France

November 29, 1918

Since I have been unable to get my letter off I will add a few more lines.

We breezed into this berg today and are located in the various lodging houses and ‘barns’ of the city. The BN Sgt. Major and I were lucky for we have a real bed to sleep in and are going to be here two nights.

Since Sunday we have made about 50 miles, camping in or near towns of Chatelier, Revigny, Hurcourt and Hanneville A. Renny. Hurcourt is near St. Dizier, which is a good big town, and the most modern I have yet seen in France.

Since starting on this maneuver I have been in or through the war famed towns of Verdun, Grand Pre, and Vanez. Wish I could tell you all about them but guess I had better wait. I understand our final destination is to be Chaumont, General Pershing’s Headquarters, which town I have also been through. I was billeted in a town near there on first arriving in France. This grand march will come to a final close next week. There will be happy boys then. I am not hiking anymore for it is most impossible to do that and my work too. I go on ahead each day on the truck train. Doing that makes it easier for me tomorrow.

Being here is like real living again. I am in BN Headquarters sitting by the fire, writing on a real table. We’ve been living wild so long I hardly know how to be civilized again.

Wish I could be home for Christmas but that is hardly probable. I don’t know what is ahead of the 6^th Division but hardly believe we will get to go home yet.

I am going to take a hot bath and go to bed.

Love to all, Julian    Observer 1/71919, p4

Julian William White married Miss Eva Mae Wolling on 6/18/1922 at the home of Mrs. Tutt in Abbeville officiated by Rev. C. E. Peele. The couple will live in Abbeville. Observer 6/20/1922, p8

Julien White had a position with the American Railway Express Co. in Florence SC.   Observer 10/24/1922, p8

Mr. and Mrs. Julian White of Florence SC announced the birth of his son Julian William Jr. born 3/17/1923.   Observer 3/23/1923, p1

Richard Greneker Julien
The body of Richard Greneker Julien who died 4/27/1920 reached Newberry and was taken to the home of his uncle and aunt, Richard H. and Miss Carrie Greneker. The funeral services were held that afternoon, conducted by Rev. Edward Fulenwider and burial was in Rosemont Cemetery in the presence of a large gathering. Among the many floral displays was a tribute from his companions in the electrical division on the Steamship Oklahoma. They had telegraphed the $45 with instructions to mark their respect for the deceased. The remains were encased in a USN standard shipping casket, designed to withstand shipment from the most distant part of the world and to meet every requirement of the Boards of Health of foreign countries and the US. This casket is alike for both officer and enlisted man, no distinction being made for rank and it was not customary to make transfer to a more elaborate casket.

USS OKLAHOMA

En Route Guantanamo Bay to NY

April 29, 1920

Miss Carrie C. Greneker

1901 Harrington Street

Newberry SC

My dear Miss Greneker,

Confirming my dispatch of April 27, 1920 to you—I regret to have to inform you that your nephew Richard Greneker Julien, electrician 3rd class  (general) died very suddenly at noon on April 27, 1920 upon this vessel while we were making passage from Guantanamo Bay to North River NY. Just prior to your nephew’s death he was talking and joking with some of his ship mates just before going to dinner. Shortly following this conversation he was noticed to straighten up and lean back as if desiring some support and then sank to the deck where he was standing. A Board of Inquest was ordered immediately and an autopsy held which showed clearly that his death was due to acute dilation of the heart.

It is needless for me to say that I sympathize with you in the loss of your nephew and if any further information is desired or if there is any way I can help you I will be glad to do so. Although your nephew had only been in the naval service since March 31, 1919 when he enlisted as an apprentice seaman, he had attained the rating of electrician 3rd class and I believe that as his record was practically clear up to the time of his death. His career in the service can well be considered successful and if his life had been spared he would probably have reflected great credit on himself, his family and his naval service.  Very truly yours,

N. E. Erwin, Captain USN, Commanding USS Oklahoma

USS Oklahoma

April 30, 1920

Miss Carrie C. Greneker

1901 Harrington Street

Newberry SC

My Dear Miss Greneker,

On behalf of the Electrical Division, Engineering Department of this vessel, of which your late nephew was a member, we wish to extend to you our deepest expression of sorrow at the death of our shipmate, familiar to us by the name of ‘Jule’. We realize there are no words which can heal the heart pain at such a loss to his beloved ones, but it is the hope that time will heal and make easy your burden of sorrow. With deepest sympathy I remain,

Respectfully, J. J. Delany   Lieutenant USN Electrical Officer for the Electrical Division Observer 5/7/1920, p4

Pvt. Travis A. Hart
Co. I 7^th Inf. WW1 July 16, 1888 – June 14, 1923, burial in West End cemetery. Observer 5/16/1924, p1

John Albert  Wicker
N. C. WICKER received a letter from his son JOHN ALBERT WICKER, which was printed in the paper:

32^nd Division  Deardorf, Germany

February 6, 1919

Dear Father and Mother,

I am glad to tell you that your three soldier boys are enjoying good health at the time. We are all connected with the Third Army of Occupation, which is on the Rhine River of Germany.

Herbert and I are right near the city of Deardorf and Bennie is just across the Mosel River from the big city of Coblenz. I went to see him yesterday and we spent a happy day together. I found him without any trouble. He was certainly surprised when I walked in on him. I took dinner with him and then we went back to the city to spend the afternoon.

Coblenz has a population of about 60,000. This is the only big town I have had a chance to see since I have been over here and it was the only pass that I have had since I have been in the army. Wish I could get a pass to go see Paris. But I would much rather have a pass back to the USA.

The boys up here are all wanting to know when are we going home. I also saw John Folk while I was in Coblenz. He is doing fine. The boys all look well but they are all anxious to get home. We had quite a lot of experiences when we were on the front. I know there will be lots of boys missing when we get home. But the ‘Yanks’ sure put the ‘Huns’ on the run.

How is everyone at home getting along? As the song goes, “There is No Place Like Home”. I will tell you how the army is when I get back. I am connected with the 32^nd Division, which has taken a great part in this war and it did a great many things that will long be remembered. Love and best wishes, Your soldier son, Albert Wicker                 Observer 3/7/1919, page 5

John Albert Wicker 82 years old son of Calvin and Sara Setzler Wicker died 3/18/1975 at Newberry County Memorial Hospital. He was a retired Civil Service employee and farmer. Surviving were his wife, Nettie Murphy Wicker; children Mrs. Ernie W. Long and Miss Mary Lou Wicker both of Columbia SC; grandchildren John Howard Young of Greenville SC and Miss Elizabeth Ann Young of Columbia. Burial was in the cemetery of St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church. McSwain Funeral Home was in charge.

John A. Thomasson
Mrs. J. B. Thomasson received a letter from one of her sons:

Moraller, France

February 14, 1919

My Dear Mother,

I have not forgotten you. I hope soon to be back home with you. Then I can tell you all about the country over here. It is a fine country. I want you to pray for me mother, that I may get back to you. You know that deep blue sea – if I were over on the other side I would be a happier, better boy. When I left home I could not write to tell you how I was getting along. Now I don’t have to ask anyone to do the writing for me now.

If you can read this, see if you can have it printed in the paper:

By the window, just at twilight

Sits a mother old and gray

She is thinking of her boy

Who is sailing far away

How the years have gone so quickly

Since he toddled on the floor

And his merry laughter ringing

She can hear it o’er and o’er

She can see him in the cornfield

Planting in the early May

And down in the big broad meadow

Taking up the bright green hay

When he hears his country calling

At once he plans to start

He was thinking of his mother

Was in loving tears they part

Though at times her life seems lonely

Still on her face there is a smile

For in God she trusts her keeping

as He guides him all the while

With love and kisses, bye-bye until I see you,

Private John A. Thomasson                 Co. ‘F’  105^th Engineers                        Observer 3/18/1919, page 2

John A. Thomasson, 87 years old son of J. B. and Rosanna Houge Thomasson died 11/28/1974 at Self Memorial Hospital of Greenwood SC. He was survived by his siblings Mrs. Kathleen Houge of Charleston, Miss Lula Mae Thomasson and Joe Thomasson of Newberry, and Beauregard Thomasson of Abbeville SC. Burial was in Rosemont Cemetery. McSwain Funeral Home was in charge.

Mrs. J. B. Thomasson, 903 Reid Street received the following letter from one of her sons in France,ML:NAMESPACE PREFIX = O />

Private John A. Thomasson of the US Engineering Corps

December 21, 1918
My Dear Mother,

This letter finds me getting along fine at this time and having a fine time. I am off on a seven day furlough and you know I am having a fine time. I am in a fine hotel and it seems like back at home when the good looking French girl waits on me – just like you did when I was home. They will bring dinner to my room if I want it brought.

Well this is the name of the place I am now staying, St. Malo France.

I wish that I could just see you but I am in France and you are in the good old USA. I am coming back to you when we set the country free and I don’t think it will be long before I can get to come back home.

Well mother, I just want to thank God for taking care of me through this war. He has answered my prayers. I know it. I have not been sick yet and you know that is a heap to say. So Mother, you know God has been good to me and I just want to thank him. He has been with me all the way and you know it well, Mother.

I have not seen Jim yet but received a letter from him. He was getting along fine at the time he was writing. I guess I will get to see him before long. I hope so. If I don’t I will see him at home and that will be best of all.

Tell that dear old father of mine that I would love to see him and have a talk with him. It would do me good you know. Tell Lilla Mae that I would like to get a letter from her.

I hope to come home soon.

Give love to all and best wishes. May God be with you until we meet again.

From your son who loves you, bye-bye until I see you.  Observer 1/21/1919, p4

John Andrew Thomasson
Moralles, France
January 14, 1919
My Dear Mother,

I just got your letter today. It was written December 15, 1918 and I received it on January 14, 1919. You see how long it takes for a letter to get to me.

Well, I sure did wish to get home Christmas and I thought that I would, but I am still in France yet. I hope that I won’t be in France always.

You asked me if I got the Christmas box. No, I have not received the box yet but I hope to receive it.

Mother, if I don’t die before I get back and I don’t think that I will die before I get back, for God is taking good care of me and will take care of me for I trust in Him till the last.

I have not seen Brother yet, but I hope to see him at home and that will be a better place to see him. You know that will be  a happy day for me, when I am home and can see all of you and talk to you. Then I can tell you all about the war and the country over here. I have been in Belgium and France and two or three other places. I will tell you about all the things over here when I see you and hope it won’t be long. I want to see you and my dear father. From your son who loves you more than you know,

John Andrew Thomasson Observer 2/7/1919, p1

John Thomasson was honorably discharged April 1919