Dere Mable: Love Letters of a RookieStreeter, Edward
General
Dere Mable: Love Letters of a Rookie
Streeter, Edward
World War, 1914-1918 -- Humor, caricatures, etc.
Of course it aint nothin to me but Id keep these letters what you get
from me as a record of the war. Some day you can read em to your
granchildren an say "Your Granfather Bill did all these things." Aint I
the worst, Mable? Serious though I havnt found noone so far what has
thought of doin this except the newspapers. I guess Ill get a lot of
inside stuff that theyll never see. So this may be the only one of its
kind. But it doesnt matter to me what you do with them, Mable.
Later Ill tell you all about everything but I guess you wont understand
much cause its tecknickle. Lots of the fellos are gettin nitted things
and candy and stuff right along. Dont pay no attenshun to that, though,
or take it for a hint cause it aint. I just say it as a matter of
rekord. Independent if nothin. Thats me all over.
Yours till the war ends
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
Having nothin better to do I take up my pen to rite.
We have been here now three weeks. As far as I am concerned I am all
ready to go. I told the Captin that I was ready any time. He said yes,
but that wed have to wait for the slow ones cause they was all goin
together. I says was I to go out to drill with the rest. He said yes
more for the example than anything else. Its kind of maddening to be
hangin round here when I might be over there helpin the Sammies put a
stop to this thing.
[Illustration: "YOU WALK A POST BUT THERE AINT NO POST"]
In the mean time I been doin guard duty. Seems like I been doin it every
night but I know what there up against and I dont say nothin. Guard duty
is something like extemperaneus speakin. You got to know everything your
goin to say before you start. Its very tecknickle. For instance you walk
a post but there aint no post. An you mount guard but you dont really
mount nothin. An you turn out the guard but you dont really turn em out.
They come out them selves. Just the other night I was walkin along
thinkin of you Mable an my feet which was hurtin. It made me awful
lonesome. An officer come up and he says why dont you draw your pistol
when you here someone comin. An I says I dont wait till the sheep is
stole I drew it this afternoon from the Supply sargent. An I showed it
to him tucked inside my shirt where noone could get it away from me
without some tussel, you bet, Mable. But it seems that you got to keep
on drawin it all the time. Then later I here footsteps. I was expectin
the relief so I was right on the job. An a man come up and I poked my
pistol right in his face an says Halt. Who goes there? And he says
Officer of the day. An bein disappointed as who wouldnt be I says Oh
hell. I thought it was the relief. An he objected to that. The relief,
Mable--but whats the use you wouldnt understand it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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