Iseminger,
Gordon
Somewhere in England June 29
1918
Dear Brother and Sister,
Well I have been here almost
two days now and sure have been doing some
writing. Say, that was some trip over here.
Almost 17 days on water and I was sick about
half of that. Two real days of it. I really
don't care for any more of it. I only want one
more trip and you can guess that one.
England sure has some funny
ideas about buildings and railroads but I
suppose your folks have told you that. We are on
some real historic ground. Can't name it, but
will tell you all about it later. Say, of all
the countries for daylight, this one has them
all going south. At 9 p.m. the sun isn't down
yet and I've never been up early enough to see
it come up.
How is everyone at home? I
hope you are enjoying good health.
You must all realize I can't
say much because of the censor.
Give my best regards to all
and have a good time on the Fourth.
Love to you all,
Your brother, G.G. Iseminger
341 MG Bn Med. Det. AEF
Iseminger,
Gordon Somewhere
in France July 27, 1918
Dear Little Ken,
Well old Buddy, I was looking
at a calendar today and discovered that tomorrow
is your birthday, but I don't know how old you
are. Get busy on that scratch tablet with your
pencil and drop me a line. I'm a real hog fish
for letters from home. I can't find anything to
send you, but am going to try to send a small
French bank note. Will be a souvenir at least.
It will look like a tobacco coupon, but the
French call it money.
How is everything at home?
Are you folks all well and are you enjoying your
vacation? Only a few more days and it starts
again, what? September first, isn't it?
Suppose you are busy making
hay and threshing. I'd sure like to be on an
engine again, but don't think I'll do so after
the war. Did the papers tell all about our
gains? In saying "our" I mean the A.E.F. It
looks like I might not be able to get on the
line. It looks like the boys may finish the job
before we can get there. If I don't, I'll have
to invent some stories and believe me, I can. I
used to be a pretty capable liar and guess I
haven't lost any of that talent yet only I meet
just as good or better that I can't honestly
rate myself.
My pal and I went off to
another town the other day on a tour of our own
invention and failed to return in time. The M.P.
got our names so consequently we are deprived of
our liberty after retreat at night for one week.
(Ha ha!) We saw a few things anyway.
There are lots of hogs in
France. The previous time I just spoke of we
were about to enter a pool hall and thirst
parlor when suddenly a very vicious looking wild
boar loomed up in front of us. I was quite taken
back for a minute but soon mustered up enough
courage to advance and get him. Finally
succeeded before leaving by getting him mad by
jerking the hair on his back the wrong way. They
are funny lookers - long noses and striped like
a skunk only all over. They sleep with the snout
of their nose flat on the ground and feet
sticking out front and rear, lying flat on their
stomachs.
The French drive with their
horses strung out single-file and I'm sure you
wouldn't like to milk over here for they milk
three times a day. The cows look to be a
combination of Jersey and Holstein and the lobe
of their neck is big and hangs way down. Even on
the calves. They are always saying, "Ata" to
them. I guess that means "hurry up" in French
cow language. Milk is "lala" so when you "lala"
old Jersey just remember there is some old
Pierrenot over here going you one better with
his old Jersey.
Well Ken, guess I'd better
get this mailed. Waited for mail today but no
word from you folks. If some of you don't write
I'm not coming home. I'll go right on through
town, see?
Now Buddy, write me a long
letter. I'll look for it in 20 days. Give my
love to all. Am feeling fine.
Your brother
Gord
Somewhere in
France
Aug 17, 1918
Dear Mother,
I'm a little bit closer to
the front but in no danger; only from gas and
not much of that. The alarm sounded three times
yesterday but no gas came.
We are in dugouts. Two of us
in this one. It is a daisy, too, with two bunks,
tables, chairs and electric lights. The first
lights I've seen since leaving the U.S.. I mean
for our own use.
How's the harvest coming?
Suppose Father is quite busy with haying and
threshing. I'm anxious to hear from you, sure.
This is a fine country for the climate, but I'll
take good old South Dakota for mine anytime.
Strolled up to the front last
night, but nothing of interest there. I found a
little kitten up there and brought it back.
One can go over into the
German lines. They will show you around and let
you come back so you can see how much danger
there is here. The artillery is what makes you
think there is a war.
I'm feeling fine so don't
worry.
Your son,
Gordon
Aug. 12, 1918
Dera Mother,
Don't you get tired of
reading "Somewhere in France"? Reminds me of a
joke I read recently. A teacher asked a student
to name a large city in France. The student
replied, "Somewhere."
I've almost run myself down
going back and forth to headquarters looking for
mail from home. The last letter I received from
you was dated July 1st. Our mail is awfully slow
for some reason.
Had a good scare the evening.
I was just passing an autoaircraft gun as it
started action. Five Boche planes were coming
over and the fire was so hot for them that they
bunched and turned directly above us, then
starting dropping a few guns. I happened to be
without my tin hat and there was no trench to go
into so I ran into the gun pit. The old Mouser
would recoil eight feet each time she shot. So,
between the shrapnel and the gun, I got a scare.
We have Bosche air visitors almost every night,
but so far they have been harmless.
Seen Cad Holmes the other
night. Sure was good to see an Oacoma paper from
him. Haven't seen Pete Gammon for a couple of
weeks. He is driving the company kitchen. Cad
takes supplies to the trenches. A rather
exciting job. He has a four-horse team, but can
wear overalls. Don't have to wear tight trousers
and leggins. I envy him just that much.
Have a chance to send this so
I must close.
Your son,
Gord
France
Sept. 9, 1918
Dear brother and sister,
Another day of sunshine and
rain. Awful gloomy around here now. They say the
rainy season is just starting.
Your letter of Aug. 7 came
Sunday, Sept. 8. Mail is slow coming across.
Pete Gammon, Cad Holmes of Oacoma and Ted Nelson
of Iona were here yesterday and Cad had a copy
of the Argus Leader so Sunday passed quite
pleasantly. I do enjoy reading the news from
home. I also received 18 letters Sunday.
Say, wasn't it rumored around
there that Manhalter of Presho was killed? Well
if all of our casualties are like that, look for
all of us to be back. He was the liveliest
corpse I ever saw. He was here all day
yesterday.
Well, I had a little trial of
the front. Not so bad as it is sometimes
pictured. You say good war news is received.
Well, look for better. I believe the war will be
over by spring if not before.
The Salvation Army women are
frying doughnuts. Gee! They sure smell good.
Say, the organization don't get a fair shake.
They are the first to meet us when we're coming
from the front. and are always cheerful
and happy. One can't stay blue around them. They
are the highest respect around here and get the
least recognition in the United States. Their
time is coming though when the soldiers get
home.
Well folks, I must get back
on duty and start on an inspection tour. Good
luck.
Love to all,
Gordon
Sept. 28, 1918
Dear folks,
Your letters and the note
from little Dale came a few days ago, but you
see by the papers that we started to pay Fritz a
little visit and as our coming was not welcome,
he departed "toot swee", as the French say, and
we Yanks, bring very desirous of playing
with them, we compelled to join the cross
country run. Well at that, we succeeded in
persuading some of them to make us a visit for
the duration of the war. It wasn't the most
pleasant night I ever saw, but it was great
sport at that. Must say it is hard to let them
peacefully march back as prisoners. One feels
like starting a knock-down drag-out minus the
latter, but they are such willing little bearers
and some are mere children that on closer
inspection, you pity them.
Now I'm not trying to
describe this as a picture, it's far from it.
There is another side that I shall not try to
picture, but Sheldon, I'll say this much with
all fun forgot - stay in the United States as
long as this is going on over here.
As they say, it's a great
life if you don't weaken and the guy that
weakens is in a poor way. The most beautiful
part of all is to see the artillery in action.
Ours, I mean. Don't misunderstand me. Ha ha. Of
course, at a distance, the Bosche shells look
pretty, but I'm always desirous that the
distance is there.
The nearest I've been to a
casualty was a little gas but was nothing much
worse than a scare.
Mabel, I'll remember about
the cake and ice cream as I'm still real strong
on feeds. Have been on Corned Beef Willie for
some time.
One morning a bunch of us got
separated from our field kitchen and started up
one that Heinie had left and enjoyed a little
Charlie horse and barley coffee. Don't be
shocked for after 24 hours of fasting one can
eat almost anything.
Write again.
Your brother
Gordon G. Iseminger
Med. Dept. A.E.F.
Iseminger, W.E.
(?)
France
Oct. 20, 1918
Dear Mother,
Your letter of the ... of
September came and I surely was glad to hear
from you. At the time you wrote I was
recuperating from the drive where we were at.
No, you were mistaken in our being at St.
Quentin, but wouldn't mind if I had been. There
was more fun and excitement than I would think.
You talk about high
price of butter and milk - I bought some butter
a week ago that cost in francs the equal to $3 a
pound; 40 cts for a bar of chocolate; 45 cts for
an ordinary can of condensed milk; 40 cts for a
small can of sardines. How do you like those
prices?
Now Mother, do not let anyone
make you think war will last several years. For
me, I don't think it will run into next year and
it might possibly be a year before we get home,
but hostility can't continue very long.
My duties are usually first
aid to the platoon I'm with and see that they
get taken back to a dressing station. I carry a
Colt 45 and if i get a chance, I let her out,
but the chance isn't frequent. In fact, it never
has been. You see, the machine guns are not the
first to go over the top. The doughboys get all
of the fun.
Well, have to close this
talk. Seems we are in for a trip of moving. Am
feeling fine, only a trifle muddy, awful rainy
weather here.
Saw Cad Holmes and Pete
Gammon yesterday for the first time since Sept.
8th. Good luck and health to all.
Your own boy,
Gordon
Still in France
Oct. 25, 1918
Dear Mother and all,
I haven't written for some
time but it was not because I was where writing
was impossible. I'm writing this on suspicion
that it will get by. You said to tell you all.
I'll try to do so, but first, excuse my writing
paper because all I had is somewhere inside the
German lines. I was forced to desert my pack as
I had to get a wounded man out. I'm fortunate to
have this as I had to beg it off one of the
boys. Our advance is so rapid that writing
material is scarce. We were relieved and i
jumped a man for some paper.
Now, as to what we were
doing. It is everything to save ourselves and
still put the run on the Fritz, out where we are
the resistance is most severe. The luck I
have always had is still with me. It has stood
the test.
One of our officers that
recently joined us was at Chateau Thierry and
Soissons and said it was nothing beside this. On
one occasion I was under bombardment from
artillery for about five hours and only received
a small cut on one arm. Nothing to speak of. You
see, I'm telling you everything as you asked.
By the time I get back to the
lines they will be driven from the woods and we
will have a clean sweep at them to the German
frontier. Expect to be there before I write
again.
Don't worry about me, I'm
immune from German bullets or I would have been
picked off at any time in the past five days.
Just though with supper and
it's almost too dark. Getting too dark to write
so must close with love to you all.
Hoping the war soon ends.
Yours lovingly
Gordon G. Iseminger
Med. Corp. Det. 341 M.G. B'n
Still in France
Nov. 12, 1918
Dearest Mother,
I suppose, Mother, that you
are glad that this war is stopped. Glad is
putting it mildly for me. I'm very anxious for
the time to come when I can be home again. How
often lately that I have longed for home. I
dreamed last night that I was there, feeding on
that good bread you make, and chokecherry jam
while I was telling you the points on Corned
Willie. By gosh, for all I've seen for over two
weeks, I hardly ever go to the kitchen anymore.
I'd give anything for some hot noodles and
biscuits.
Although anxious to get home,
I will wait patiently as long as the shells
don't burst and fly. It was something fierce.
I've been on two fronts and over the top four
times - all the experiences I want for mine.
Believe me, I am ready to settle down for good
when I get home.
Suppose King Winter is about
to settle in at home. Well it's none too warm
here. Has been really chilly and rainy up to the
last few days, but today was just grand. Hope it
continues.
I heard that one division,
the 89th, was decorated for bravery. I guess
they deserve it. I know my part was no picnic.
Tom was a lucky guy to have missed it. Was
is all it's reputed to be.
What did you think of my last
letter? They are far apart I know, but we have
been very busy and I had no stationary. Begged
this paper off one of the boys, Seems like
corned beef is all that keeps up with us. Ha ha.
Well dear mother, I must
close. I am anxious to see you all; think I will
by next April.
Love to all,
Your own boy,
Gordon G. Iseminger
89th Division of A.E.F.
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