Love Letters of a Rookie to Julie - Part 4
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Part 4

They say its only about 30 miles from Dover to Callay; maybe it is on a calm day, but believe you me derie, we went up the hills of water to the tune of about a hundred miles. It was all-rite goin up, but Julie goin down is when everything "comes up." That's if you have anything left to come up.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I don't know what to call you," sez he, "Call me an ambulance," says I.--]

The game we played comin over would have been a good trainin fer a prize fiter. We tumbled round so we looked like we was shadow boxin.

"Snappy brand of weather" pipes one of these sailor guys. He was rite, I never remember givin a better imitation of a whip snapper; and the wind, Julie dere, the wind which spends its time round the Flatiron and Woolworth Buildings, are as the poets say "gentle zephers" to that which sweeps across the English channel when a man sized storm is on; it listens like a cross between the moan of a dyin giastacutus and a subway express behind time under the East River.

I never before was so glad to set my foot on dri land. I was so tickled I could have kisst the ground if it had been Hoboken, N.

J.U.S.A. Next time they send me to Vive la France, I hope they send me by parcels post or airoplane. I b.u.mped into the Captain; he said, "I dunno what to call you," I told him he could call me an ambulance or a taxi, anything to get to land with. We have been on water so much since we swore our way into the army, that I don't know whether I'm in the army or navy. Tomorrow me and Skinny is gonna get a pa.s.s to look over Paree. We're lookin forward to a big time with what Skinny calls "Ze gay chansonettes." I don't know whether he means a disease or a dance, as I don't make this parley-voo much, but I'm gonna find out before we come back.

With love I am yours until my wrist watch goes 24 hrs without takin a recess,

BARNEY.

P.S. How about my other s.h.i.+rt, did you get it from the c.h.i.n.ks?

Nowhere in France the morning after a night in Paris.

Dere Julie:

So this is Paris. Believe you me, Julie, I don't see why they wanna keep Wilhelm the Twicer away from this burg; give him 48 hrs. in Paree like the once around the clock we had here and it would be fare-thee-well Wilhelm. There would be nothin left to say but "don't he look natural."

Speaking of funerals, Julie reminds me that was the first thing we met up with when we arrove in Paree! Flowers, paul-bearers, an everything.

Skinny lowed as how it must be some high and mitey who had joined his 4 fathers, and asked a Frenchy standing on the curb of the "bull-yard"

who the big guy wuz? Shrugging his shoulders, he pipes up with sumpin which sounded like "Monsewer Jennyseepah." Well, we didn't ever here of the poor b.o.o.b, so we went over onto the next Rue (make that Julie.

I'm getting along fine), and we runs slap bang! into a other funeral more elegant than the first; and Skinny not wantin to let anything get by him, again asked the name of the guy ridin in the head waggin and he got the same answer "Monsewer Jennyseepah." "Yer a liar," yelled Skinny, "we just saw _his_ funeral on the other street." Well, Julie, I don't blame Skinny, I was a little sore myself on the way this guy tried to string us.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Me an' Skinny seen the toom of Napoleon the Wunst.]

We got along seem the sights without much trouble; the toom of Napoleon the Wunst, the bridge over the Sane, the 4th of July colum and Champ de Lizzie; feelin hungry we drifted into a swell lookin feedin place with good lookin she waiters. Now don't be nervous Julie, there ain't nothin gonna happen with me and them Jane's; for believe you me star of my heart, I don't _care_ what anybody says to me, but you can bet every dollar that Hetty Green ever gave to charity, that when I do marry, I'm gonna get a dame who bawls me out in language that I understand. Well, luckily we struck a she waiter who spoke a little American; to put it as she said "I speek a leetle of what Monsewer calls ze Anglaise." The first thing we ordered was soop. The Jane brought it in a bowl and had her thum jabbed into it, when Skinny pointed to her thum in the soop, she grinned and sed "Zats all rite, Monsewer, it is not hot." We got along very well (considerin that Skinny kept her mind offen her business by trying to send her a eye wireless) and got down to the desert. You know me Julie, Me for the good old fas.h.i.+oned pies like my ol' lady makes. Gettin a lamp at what looked like a juicy huckleberry pie, I pointed to it and said in my company tone of voice "Please give me a big dose of that huckleberry pie." Puttin on her prettiest smile and rollin her eyes, and arching her shoulders she c.u.m back with "if Monsewer will pleese brush off ze flies, he will find it is custard pie--NOT ze huckleberry."

Its a good thing we are leaving to-morrow to go toward the front for if we staid round her long the moral of our regiment would stand at about zero minus 5.

Yours until they chase the Kaiser to Holland with the balance of the windmills.

BARNEY.

On the Hike Nowhere in France.

Dere Julie:

There shure is a bunch of widows over here, Both gra.s.s and sod. I say little brighteyes, do you think it possible fer a guy to get hay fever from a gra.s.s widow? Ennyhow Skinny got some kind uv fever when he was chummin round with these female comfort kits, and if they don't lose his trail, I can see visions of a certain (what the d.i.c.kens is that French word for fat--oh yes, emb.u.mpoint), lady in Hoboken, N.J.U.S.A., lookin fer a new affinity. In other words, unless the signs is misleading, Skinny is gonna lose his liberty by gettin married, and its the opinion of your "'Lil Brighteyes" that the speech of P. Henry of Va. on "Give me Liberty or give me deth" was made, more because he was married than because he was patriotic; and all the married men, I'm told Julie, are chirpin the same wheeze. Of course with you derie, its different. I don't believe you would accuse a feller of keepin another woman when his pay envelope is a nickle shy on Sat. night.

Skinny and me had a date with the Pudding Sisters at the canteen last nite, and believe you me, they was some babies, and was well worth the money we spent on 'em.

Some people we met today from Belgium say that when the Fritzies get soused, they hug and kiss every woman they meet. What a fat chance for that sweet maiden of fifty years who grabbed me off at the station, the day I left for camp. You can bet your Wrigleys that after a regiment pa.s.sed her she would make a detour and catch up with the head of it again.

Yours until Eyetalian restaurants serve real wine.

BARNEY.

P.S. After readin this letter over I tho't I'd better wise you up on that date me and Skinny had with the pudding sisters at the canteen last nite. Women are so suspicious you know. I ment we went down to the canteen to get some puddin, rice and tapioca.

"B."

[Ill.u.s.tration: She would run and ketch up with the hed of the perseshun]

Dere Julie:

Your last lovin letter was rec'd by your little bright eyes in a quaint old burg in viva la France, just back of where the Yanks are making soup strainers of William the Twicer's b.o.o.bs by punchin them in the kitchen with that "wooden sword of America." You know Julie, that story that the Emp has been jabbing them in the arm with about "America couldn't fite if she would, and wouldn't if she could,"

and tellin em also about Germany's "submarines sinking all the Yanks transports etcery etcery." If Bill keeps this up very long they will nickname him Barnum.

Speaking of William the Twospot, reminds me of what one of our boys, which was taken prisoner and escaped, wuz telling about what the Emp said when he saw so many of our boys on the front at Chato Theiry; sendin fer some of his generals he deemanded they tell him what boat brung all them Yanks over. One of 'em piped up and sed "I think, yer Majesty it was the Lusitania." Being German, it went over his bed like a air s.h.i.+p.

The way things are goin now, it looks as if William the Twicer is gonna have a great future behind him: Skinny sez the Klown Quince and his army reminds him very much of his (Skinny's) brother who went out west and made twenty Indians run--but the Indians couldn't ketch him.

Believe you me derie, the Boches are running faster than the color in a 19 ct. pair of stockins. They are hot footin it faster than the train that I left for camp on pulled out of Grand Central Station; and that pulled out so fast that when I tried to kiss you from the window when she started, I kissed a cow ten miles away.

Well Julie dere, I miss you much believe you me. I'd rather see you just about now than a messenger with the news that piece has been sined; of course there's a lot of nice girls hear amung the Red X Nurses and Y workers, but there's so many officers and gold braids round that fellers like us dont get any more show than a dollar at a church fair.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Speakin' of William the Two-spot]

We're up now to where we can hear the noise of the big 75's as they pound the Boches from their trenches and have gotten so used to it that we can't sleep without it. Every once in a while we see the ambulances comin in, and a lot of the boys have to be watched to keep em from trying to beat it back into the trenches again. We heard yesterday Julie, about a detachment who went over the top and the commanding officer told em not to go beyond a certain objective during the first half hour; when the half hour was up they wuz a half mile beyond the objective. When the major of the battalion bawled out the company commander, he yelled back at him "H---- if the Crown Prince's men couldn't stop 'em what chance had I to stop 'em?" That's whats winning this hi' ol' sc.r.a.p Julie--we hit em first and apologise afterward.

Some of our boys was sayin to-day that they thought the war would soon be over, and when I ast Skinny about it, he allowed as how that meant fer single guys only; that the war would go on fer married men just the same. Corporal Louie Heinlein sez that song "Here c.u.ms the bride is the greatest battle song of all" and Louie has had a lot of experience with "Janes." But with you and me Julie dere, that will be sumpin else again.

Yours till people keep their New Year's resolutions until Valentines day,

BARNEY.

Dere Julie,

At last I have smelt the smoke of battel, and fer the third time since I joined the colors you don't know how near you've been to cas.h.i.+ng that 10 thou. insurance policy. You would have cashed it fer sure this time, if it hadn't been fer a despised cooty; never again will yours truly be hard on 'em.

I have one that I'm gonna retire on a penshun. It wuz like this.

Our regiment wuz called upon to go into the front line trenches and while I was peepin over the top, one of them pesky "seam squirrels"

commenced bitin the back of my neck. I bent my head for'd to reach over on the back of my neck to pick him off, at one and the same time a sniper cut loose at me from a big tree just outside the line of Fritzies trenches; had my head been where it was before I started to get the cooty, it would have been fare-thee-well Barney, so I just put Mr. Lifesaver back, and, as before stated, I'm gonna put him on a penshun.