Full transcription of text follows:
2nd Lt. J.E. Henschel- M.T.C. School #1- A.P.O. 772- Decize (Nievre) France- Am. Ex. Forces- November 3rd/1918- Dear Mother and Dad- I'm so sorry to hear of Dad's illness - but I trust that he is all O.K. again now. It's rotten luck - being sick - and all the sympathy in the world does make it less so. I'm glad the Masons were so fine - and yet they should have been. Nothing is good enough anyway for the finest Father in the world - and when he is as hard a working brother as my Dad is - why I figure that they couldn't
have done enough. I'm awfully sorry; wish I could have known and been able to do something. I've "went and done it". Friday glad tidings came from head quarters - the Colonel called me into his officer. I swore to do a lot of things I have been trying to all along - the Colonel shook my hand and proclaimed me an officer - full-fledged. Since then I have been the victim of an overdose of congratulations and good natured sport. The American soldier and the fine art of "kidding" one certainly one and inseparable. To say that he knows it to perfection
is to understate it. Now that it all over - the wait - excitement and all that - I must confess that once a life time thrill has been decidedly depressing. (Partly due - perhaps - to a rather painful tooth). The other reason I may not have to tell; let's hope not. The tale is rather long, anyway, deals with the life of a cadet (the name for future officers) an officer's mess, patronized by orders by the cadets who are instructors, and a private's pay - minus $15 worth of Liberty Bonds and $6.50, about, in insurance. Having mentioned the tooth
should tell all about it. When one perfect idiot shows another just how not to crank a truck - queer results sometimes eventuate (or occur - something that signifies the same). In this case it was the half of a rear tooth that broke off. Now - many years - I have been under the impression that Dr. Sullivan had removed the nerve from that thing - but right away - I found out that it was all wrong. Since then I have not been sleeping very well - but have spent instead the hours "cussing" alternately myself - the tooth and the truck.
What a letter! There isn't any news - so had better stop. My thoughts and love are always at home - despite the fact that I send letters like this one. Ned. (And - queerest of all - to censor one's own mail!)
From the service of James E. (Ned) Henschel, Co. B Reserve Mallet--French Army, American Field Service, Quartermaster Corps, General Hdgts., and Motor Transport Co. 831.
|Date||November 3, 1918|
|Year Range from||1918|
|Year Range to||1918|
Henschel, James (Ned) Edward
World War I