Chapter Nine LeonSprings

Ft. LeavenworthKansas January 25, 1918 Dear Mother and all Just finished my first day of Military work. I have been to mess. Our Quarters are so crowded that we have quite a time getting around. They got orders this evening to send some of the boys away from the signal corpsthat is what I enlisted incant say just what will happen yet I took part of the exam this afternoon I only wish I had had some idea of what is in store here. The boys are all just as green as me, so it makes it comfortable. They come direct from the farms of Vermont, Texas, Illinois and even fellows from Canada and all over. Gee all nationalities are represented. You know Ft.Leavenworth is an old established fort so things are very nice. Our barracks are all steam heated. And they have a nice Y.M.C.A. here, but dont have much time tonight so I will write more later. Love to all, Bill

January 26, 1918 Craning his neck to look ahead, Bill could see neither the front of the line into the infirmary, nor, looking over his shoulder, its end. The men in front and behind came in all sizes, shapes, and ethnicities, in every manner of dress. They formed an assembly line of men about to be transformed into soldiers. Fighting men. Most expressed their manliness with the braggadocio of the mission they had signed up for. Their loud laughter and boasts filled the hall and bounced back against the tiled walls and the polished oak floors inside the enormous limestone cavern they had entered. But others looked from side to side, afraid that someone might realize how the prospect of going off to war left them terrified. With sweaty palms, and their hearts racing inside their chests, they shuffled together towards the next entryway in the procession. By enlisting, Bill effectively avoided the infantry, enabling him to request assignment to the Signal Corps. Having taken the time to read the reports on the war in Europe, he reasoned that the Signal Corps would be further away from the trenches, if only slightly. He expected his assignment would be safer than those who rushed the front lines. Those doughboys would carry rifles with fixed bayonets into the fog and rain, through mustard gas and barbed wire strewn randomly, between fence posts protruding askance in the deep French mud. These images lingered in his mind, put there by a battered copy of the Kansas CityStar, already a day old and folded in on itself when he found it abandoned on the train. His memory of the trip, only two days ago, seemed a part of another lifetime that he could only just remember. The men in Bills queue rounded the corner into a dimly lit hallway. Behind a window cut out of the wall to one side, Army staffers checked a wire mesh basket to

each man. Moving on to a large room with high ceilings, they received instructions to disrobe and return their belongings to a receiving desk at the other end of the room. The light from outside filtered through frosted glass windows, reinforced with something like chicken wire. He had never seen anything like this in his life. Two columns of benches arranged in rows filled the room. Men in various stages of undress folded their civilian clothes into bundles, stowing their belongings in the baskets. Each basket had a tarnished bronze medallion, numbered, clipped to the wires and a safety pin with a matching number attached. The men kept the pin as a claim check. They ambulated self-consciously, carrying their baskets, pin in hand, towards the door. Some swaggered, others held the baskets modestly in front of themselves, but the noise level was lower in here than it had been in the other rooms and hallways. The reality of their mission set in with the sounds of their bare feet shuffling along the stark, cold floor. After checking their belongings and wondering if they would ever get them back, the men formed new lines heading into a gymnasium where more men, these in white coats over army drab woolen pants and thick-soled boots, carried clip boards and wore stethoscopes for the physical exams. The men proceeded sheepishly through the process as Army doctors poked and prodded and finally inoculated them for the great adventure they anticipated. Some were pulled out of line and sent to makeshift rooms separated by white sheets hung like shower curtains from iron pipe frameworks where medics poked or proded, taking medical histories that either qualified or disqualified these men for military service. Most made it through to the other end where they thankfully received and climbed into government issued union suits which fit satisfactorily or not well at all.

The Army medical staff believed that the inoculations would protect the men from typhoid fever, a plague during the Spanish American war twenty years before. Medical science had advanced to believe that the mens bodies would develop immunity to the disease if injected with a controlled dose of toxins, and thus make them stronger to enter the rat-infested trenches of France in the coming months. For most of the men, this turned out to be a harmless procedure, but for about one out of ten, their reaction to the vaccination included full blown symptoms of the disease that the doctors sought to avoid. Within twenty-four hours of his shot, Bill returned to the infirmary reporting that he could not sleep because of headache, chills and diarrhea. Medics measured his temperature at 102 degrees and checked him onto a cot in a ward with dozens of other men who looked much the way he felt. He remained there for the next 24 hours, still sleepless, growing weaker by the hour. His arm grew red and swollen around the site of his wound. He would have been frightened of this sudden onset illness, had he the strength to care. Saturday afternoon Dear Mother and all I will drop a line or two before I go to bedam at the Y.M.C.A. now and have to go back to the barracks sure am sickgot my shot in the arm of typhoid germs and it took. So, write me here, Company J. Signal Corps. More boys arrived today. They sure are coming thick and fast from every where. Good bye Maybe I can write tomorrow, but done this so that you could write

When Bill awoke to Monday morning reveille, his head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. He moved weakly, made his way to the lavatory and back, dressed slowly in his newly issued olive drab uniform. It fit snugly, consisting of blouson pants that tapered narrowly to his ankles and a shirt jacket that buttoned almost to his chin. No jacket fit him as it should, so he received a size 36R, which looked fine, but felt tight across his back and shoulders. His stiff black leather boots rose nearly to his knees, polished to a dull shine, fresh from the factory. Still feeling woozy, he was among the last to leave the barracks. He made his way slowly with the others to assembly and the mess hall. The crisp wet cold of the morning air slapped Bill in the face as he went outside for the first time since having been confined to quarters two days earlier. Snow fell in large, cottony flakes, some the size of quarters, accumulating on the ground atop what appeared to be four inches from the day before. Someone had already shoveled the broad sidewalks that led to the mess hall. The snowflakes melted into the glistening black moisture that covered the concrete pathways. The men walked informally, without Army discipline this morning, in groups of two or three. Bill kept to himself, not feeling up to the cheerful banter and empty chit-chat he heard from ahead and behind. High overhead an eagle soared against the gray sky and observed the first of the men from the barracks arriving at the mess hall. It gazed out toward the river bottomland punctuated by countless trees that rose up from the alluvial soil which the Missouri River had deposited eons ago, forming a dark and brooding forest around FortLeavenworth. Catching a rising current of early morning air, the raptor soared high above the serpentine line of men who appeared dark burnt umber against the flat white landscape, jammed at

the entrance to a large building. There the men waited for the signal that would admit them into the steamy world of cauldrons, clattering steel food trays, the continual storm of boots on the gleaming floors of the enlisted mens mess. Some of the men shifted jauntily from one foot to the other to keep from getting cold, as if warming up for calisthenics. Others blew hot air into their cupped hands to warm their gloveless hands. As Bill approached, he happened to notice a lone officera Lieutenant, he guessed, by the single silver bar of rank mounted on each of his shouldersjovially greeting the men. His wide, toothy smile seemed to stretch from ear to ear. He looked no older than Bill and seemed genuinely interested in meeting the men as he worked his way up the line from the mess hall, apparently a self-appointed greeting committee of one. Seeing him off by himself, the Lieutenant approached Bill, who raised his arm to salute but winced in pain from the vaccinated wound to his shoulder. The pain prevented him from completing the same smart salute that the Lieutenant returned. At ease, Soldier. The Lieutenant offered Bill his hand. Got a reaction from the inoculation I see. Thats right, sir. Ive been in quarters since Saturday morning. This is the first fresh air Ive had since I got here. Wherere you in from? Hutchinson, Kansas, Sir. Hutchinson, eh? I was there when I was younger. Grew up in Abilene. Whats your name? Holmes, Sir. William G. Holmes, Private. Just reporting for duty in the cause.

Well, good for you, Holmes. What have you signed up for? Bill noticed the name on the Lieutenants uniform and decided he should try to remember it. Eisenhower, it read. What kind of name was that? German, he reckoned. Signal Corps, Lieutenant Eisenhower. Bill used the young officers name with some difficulty and a little caution. Good man, Holmes. I may see you again later this week as we work you men through orientation. Theyve got me here teaching induction classes. If you make the Signal Corps, youll ship out for CampMorse in Texas by the end of the week. Just got up here a little more than a month ago myself from Morse. San Antones a beautiful place. Youll like it there. With that, Lieutenant Eisenhowers eyes moved to the men behind Bill in line. Smiling and making eye contact with them, he returned their salutes and moved on. Breakfast was ample, doled out by men with short haircuts, white jackets and bib aprons, standing behind steam tables slapping food onto trays, trays onto counters, where the men in line picked them up as they passed. Everything matched the assembly line efficiency that Bill imagined from the Army. I am sending you two bundles from the Y.M.C.A. he wrote on YMCA stationery provided to the men at no cost. Hope you receive them O.K. am in a hurry got a permit from the First Sergeant to come here Will write later as we are Texas bound rather hate to leave here as it is nice, except for the crowded conditions Had a fine dinner today.Best meal yet. Liked it very well My arm is O.K. I can salute but that vaccination sure made me sick.

I never saw such a conglomerated mess in all of my life as I have here I cant see the idea for another draft havent the clothes. Especially ones to fit mine were O.K. only the jacket is too small. Say, dont go around and tell such stuff, for it might cause trouble. For the balance of the week he attended orientation classes, learned military protocol, took tests, filled out forms, and read regulations. He had assignments to qualify for. The Signal Corps accepted him for training and advised him to prepare himself to leave by the end of the week. Dear Sister Just a line to let you know Im alive and feeling fine. I have gotten over my first shot in the arm (inoculation) and believe me it was a good one. I will not be here much longer they are sending 100 of us to LeonSprings, Texas for training so dont write me here. When I am located I will send you an address. Always address it Wm. G. Holmes as thats best. Say, listen nearly all the boys coming in here have Red Cross equipmenttheir local Red Cross gave them a sweater, helmet, wristlets and a little needle, thread and pin holder. Lest I should forget, I would appreciate an outfit. It would sure come in handy, especially here. You enquire, not in regard to me but in a round about way, seeas the Red Cross in Hutch may or may not be distributing same down there. We had a nice little parade go by today the cavalry out in front also Negro troopers. Well, Vesta, I will ring off and will write you from Texas when I am located enough to write With Love, Your brother Bill

Bill attended classes on Friday morning before the noonday meal in the mess hall with the rest of the men. Then he was under orders to clean out his belongings and get

ready for the transports to the train station in the town of Leavenworth, Kansas. A hundred men had been selected for Signal Corps. They would leave by train that afternoon. The loud, rhythmic hum of five dark troop transport trucks droned over the noisy clatter of their engines as they came to a stop like factory machines in front of the barracks area, their canvas flaps pulled down on the sides above the flatbeds. Each truck would carry twenty men and their kits from the fort into town. As soon as the trucks parked and killed their engines, the men selected for transport moved towards them while an audience of other soldiers stood around the staging area and watched. Once the men settled on board, the lead truck started its engine and the other drivers followed suit, one at a time pulling away from the dormitories and heading south into town. The transport moved slowly, but the men were not far away from their destination. Soon Bill saw fat, showy trees and grasslands opening down to the riverfront. Within twenty minutes, the transports arrived at the railroad depot. A sergeant holding rank over the recruits ordered them to stay put until he returned. The men shifted impatiently while they waited, and soon enough, the sergeant returned. Once inside the depot, the men lingered in a waiting room, smoking and milling about. Some played poker to fill the time. The sun had just dropped below the western horizon when they finally pulled out of the station and headed south.

When the sun came up Saturday morning in Wichita, the transport train left the main rail line, directed off onto a spur. The soldiers had gambled in the club cars well into the night long after the conductors had the beds made up for them in the Pullman cars. Looking out into the cold morning light, the men collectively wondered why the train was stopping. The depot in Wichita was on Douglas Avenue just east of the downtown shopping district. As the train pulled in, the men could see the electric lights on the Eaton Hotel sign, less than a block away, just west of the station. They had not been advised of this stop and so when their sergeant, Bills old friend, Charlie Hopkins, from Hutchinson, appeared at the end of the aisle, they craned their necks to hear his explanation. Listen, men! the sergeant bellowed. Were going to be changing engines before proceeding. From what the conductor tells me, the engine weve got has sprung a leak in the boiler and will have to be replaced. Now, none of you will be permitted off the transport while we wait for the change to be made. This will delay our arrival in San Antonio by a few hours, but there is no cause for concern on your part. A collective groan came up from the ranks, but there was little movement and the boys went back to sleep until they heard the clacking of the wheels and felt the shudder and lurch of the train being reconnected to its new engine. All the activity outside made sleeping impossible and gradually the men arose, finding their way half-dressed to the toilets before making themselves presentable in the dining cars for breakfast. Bill ate little en route to Texas. He was still not well. He had an upset stomach and loose bowels, and he felt weak and generally out of sorts. He played a little poker and got to know a few men with whom he would serve, but retired early that night and

slept late the following morning. His arm grew stiff with swelling and tender to the touch. He said nothing about his ongoing reaction to the typhoid shot while they traveled. What could anyone do? Not wanting to draw attention to his own discomfort, he kept quiet until they reached Camp Samuel F.B. Morse in LeonSprings, Texas.

Except that it was warm for February, LeonSprings reminded Bill of Langdon. It had evolved from its origins as a stagecoach stop at the time of the Mexican-American War to become a quaint little village a few miles outside of San Antonio. Since the Civil War it had had a post office and a few families living there. As the Army convoy passed the stands of live oaks and the flat, verdant green pampas, it completed the twenty-mile trip north from the train depot in San Antonio, finally careening into town. Bill noticed two hotels, a General Mercantile, and a handful of shops within one or two blocks of the center of town. For the first time since leaving his family at Uncle Shermans house, Bill felt homesick. And he felt sick in general;
Speck and Badger, December 1917

the tropical winter weather did nothing

for his general lassitude and intestinal distress, which had plagued him during the two day journey from Leavenworth.

San Antonio had important missions in the early months of the Great War in 1918. The San Antonio Arsenal handled most of the ammunition supplies that would be used in France in the coming months. But the Army had also opened Kelly Field in 1917 to develop the aviation mission of the Signal Corps. Some 17,000 men trained to become pilots and support crew there. Fort Samuel F. B. Morse was the oldest installation and the largest training base for the Signal Corps. Ten thousand men stationed at Morse awaited deployment to Europe. In all, over 100,000 soldiers had descended upon the environs of San Antonio, rich with its Mexican and Southwestern traditions; but in those days, the number of troops almost equaled its total civilian population. Bill was quickly remanded to quarters once he reported his symptoms to the infirmary. A week passed. Spending his days and nights sprawled out on a small bed, little more than a cot with a thin mattress, he received his first letters from home. His family wanted to know what he would do in the war. What had he done about Kit and the baby Maxine? Insurance and other financial matters? He had plenty of time to write, reading and rereading the letters he had received from home while studying the alphabets of a Signal Corpsman. He wrote first to his mother and family. I have been in Camp and have had only one day of duty so my work has been rather easy as I have been confined to quarters ever since my vaccination took my arm was sure sore, swelled tight to the finger tips the swelling has left from the shoulder to the elbow but my hand is still swelled tight the Dr. says I will have to stay in quarters another day or two gee its getting old! Of course I get out but I would like to be getting some of the drilling there were 100 in our bunch from Leavenworth and we are all in the same company yet all recruits some like it and some dont, but I like it fine. Papa you spoke of doing as told. Ha! Ha! That is the one point you learnnot to kick and do as told dont worry I have knocked on wood. You ask about our duties. Well I tell you, duties are very numerous in the Army and you get a little of it allhot and heavyInfantry drill, calisthenics,

army rules and regulations, when to salute, the wig wag, (that is with two flags) semaphore, (its with one flag) and Buzzer (its the wireless) and they use the International Morse Code instead of the American Morse Code I have learned nearly all of it. The wig wag and the semaphore have alphabets, which is like learning our ABCs all over again in a different manner. Hello Speck and Badger. I am learning my ABCs in Chinese Ha! Ha! As for Kit and I, we both had very satisfactory meetings at Ramseys office. He drew up an agreement which practically separates us so I have no cause for any worry from there. Dont worry about the papers for Kit Mamayou dont need to send them. You spoke of insurance, Papa you know we are automatically insured for $4500 for 120 days will take care of the insurance though as they take it out of your money I probably will take out $8,000 to $10,000 I dont know yet its according to where we go from here. I am just a little short on money at the present. A few stamps would be appreciated but that will be about all as we have about everything we need. The eats here are pretty good and as for clothes, well, I have olive drab (thats what they issue now in most cases) I have a few more coming yet. I have an overcoat, raincoat, gloves, two shirts, 1 pair of pants (I get another soon) 3 suits of underwear and 3 pair of hose (heavy) and blouses. That and a camping outfit. We had inspection this morning by officers staff but it was indoors only and not very rigid as we were recruits. Will have a picture taken when I have a chance and send you one as I wont get to see you folks not very likely before the war is over. The Y.M.C.A. Bully for them! Tell the people all to give them a hand for they sure do a fine and great work and a persons money is sure reaching many a poor privates heart and hand I mean in a helping way such as reading and writing material and amusements and darn good work all around. Dont worry about my health. I got rid of my cold so dont worry now. I feel fine. If I could only get out and drillDoctor said it would be a couple of days before I could drill he said it might be alright but not to just play softly first so what Doctor says goes over Major and Colonel and all. It has sure been nice hereSunshine every day till today and believe me it is warm just like spring.

Winter rains set into South Texas in early February. The weather stayed cold and dreary for almost two weeks. Conditions in the camp became deplorable. The rainfall

turned the formerly hard packed soil into mud that caked itself on the bottoms of the mens boots and followed them onto the smooth, worn wooden floors of their tents. At Kelly Field, the trainees slept in tents that had earthen floors; the mud gradually encroached on the underside of the canvas. On Valentine's Day, Bill wrote his father that he took out $10,000 insurance-- $8,000 to mama and $2,000 to Baby Maxine and I will pay the premiums here as the government takes it out of your wages it costs me $6.90 a month. I will have my policy sent to you, Papa, so you can keep it for me. Bill felt that no other provisions for Baby Maxine were needed. He had, after all, relinquished that responsibility to her mother and her maternal grandparents. He rarely thought about Kit, except when the government docked his check and sent half of it to her. On the other hand, Rosa went with him almost everywhere. She was never far from his thoughts. Whenever he had a moment to rest, and he had much time to do so in these first few weeks, his mind made the short trip to that bungalow in Hutchinson where they had last made love. Sometimes in his fever, he stared at her, frozen in time, from his window on the train as it left the train station in Hutchinson, she on her toes waving as if she could still make out his image through the streaked glass. Her expression as she waved was etched in his memory. She seemed crestfallen, as if she had already lost her loved one, smiling thinly, trying to put on a good face, offering him encouragement with her eyes. At bedtime each night, he fell asleep with that face in his imagination, her memory in every breath. He was lucky to recover from his reaction to the typhoid inoculation. He described the outcome and symptoms of others in his Company.

I forgot to tell you about our first causality a boy by the name of Fiedler from California died yesterday at the BaseHospital from something like the typhoid or influenza, being treated from the shot. We have about six more in the hospital. There were sixty went on sick report this morning so they are having quite an investigation-- All Lieutenants, Majors, Colonels and Commanding Officers are in a pow wow and all boys in connection with it think were in for a military court martial. They suffered from diarrhea something awful-- the boys on both sides of me were up all night but it hasnt bothered me at all of late. By Valentines Day, Bill felt strong enough to get out and around. He had enough money to buy a card for Rosa. It was a fancy die-cut card that unfolded to prop up with a little boy dressed in soldiers khaki, holding a bright red heart that said, With Sincere Love. On the back he wrote, I think of you every day and long to be together again, and signed his name, adding a note telling Rosa how to address mail to him. Once recovered, Bill finally got out and started learning the ropes, or that is, the Flags of the Signal Corps; his illness had put him behind the curve with the other men. He continued to study the semaphore and the wigwag and was awed by the armaments he observed in camp. They have all that goes to make actual warfarereal cannons and everything. They use them every dayand trenches, all kinds, and barbed wire entanglements. When Hopkins let word out that Bill was a licensed barber in Kansas, the officers decided to use him to fill a vacancy in the duty roster. It was not what Bill had signed on for, but he appreciated the perquisites of the assignment. He got quarters in the building that housed the barber and tailor shops, away from the snoring legions in the barracks. Besides his privacy, he received forty cents on the dollar for all the haircuts and shaves he gave. When the mail came Bill was among the first to receive letters from home and back issues of the HutchinsonNews Herald and the Langdon Leader. Along with these

pieces of mail, he also received a package from his family, including a new pen and a little bottle of ink. That evening, after settling into the Barber Shop, he tried out his new pen writing to Vesta. I received your letter and say I was sure one glad human for it was the first from anyone in over a week, thought I had been forgotten. Now say don't go to any more trouble sending anything at present I am afraid I will have more than I can pack I have a nice little bedroom away from the noise of the barracks you know in the barracks about 70 to 100 men sleep on cots and its annoying a person cant study nor read or write of course when lights are out its quiet Ha! I am starting to like it finecant express myself exactly but it isnt so badquite a bit of studying but I have my brain going all the timeso am learning my General Orders , the Continental Code for the Buzzers and the Semaphoreall fairly well. And the drillswell I havent got much. My old arm is still in bad from the vaccinationI have it dressed every dayit ate nearly to the bone and is about the size of a half dollar or a dollar so you can see it tookvery little soreness in it now but its tender. Drizzly weather here for the last 3 days but it cleared off at noon today and this evening is as pretty as I ever sawnice and warmdont need a coat have the door and all windows open and enjoying it. Oh yes I am surely much obliged for the stamps, but I am not quite brokehave 15 cents left to buy candy and thats all I need outside of tobacco and I have a good supply of that. I have to tell you that we have been through our gas drills heremade it finehave had gas drills for a week but turned in our masks so are ready on that count. You asked for a picturewell girlie I will as soon as I can, but I havent had time yetI want some good ones when I do so dont you worryI will send themGee I am "sumpin" in full dress for Officer's inspection! Ha! Ha!

Bill kept hours in the base barber shop when he was not training with his Company. The rains continued. After an eight-mile hike he returned to the infirmary

suffering from exhaustion. The reaction to the typhoid virus continued and worsened. When he could work, cutting hair generated pocket money. Once when a Lieutenant came in for a shave, he wrote that he had to get up and give the Lieutenant a haircut and darn, I cut his upper lip just a little Goodbye, Bill Ha. Ha.

When the weather finally cleared, Bill could see the marvels of the modern world from his barber shop. In less than fifteen years since the Wright Brothers had made history at a North Carolina beach called Kitty Hawk, the Army had fully embraced the technology for air flight in a military expedition. The science of air warfare advanced significantly in those early years. But Bill reacted like a Kansas farm boy when he first saw aviators overhead. Airplanesthey give us plenty of entertainment when the weathers fair they come over from Kelly Field galorequite a sight to see the air full of them like hawks or geesesometimes in a V shape like geeseyou can see them quite a way through a field glass. Tell Speck and Badger if they were here they would have a fit! Airplanes, and on week days, the artillery fire and soldiers everywhere just like an ant hill. He returned to Quarters on February 21 and stayed there for the rest of the month. The weather outside remained rainy, cloudy and dreary. He developed strep throat infection and the reaction in his arm continued to plague him. He lacked the strength to muster for reveille or retreat at the end of the day, though he was well enough to do some barbering. He shared the space with the Company tailor and enjoyed the banter with the men who came in for haircuts throughout the day. My arm is still keeping me in quarters but it is coming along nice now but the Doctor wont let me do a thing, only barber. Yes, I was put in as one of the Company barbers so I may not do so bad after all

I will tell you of our shopits an old kitchena small one but it has a little bed room and closet and running water and our chairs consist of four pieces of 1x12 and 3 pairs of hinges, a piece of rope and wirepicture it out, but its war time and the Lieutenant said we couldnt have anything we couldnt take across. On the 6th of March, though he was too exhausted to leave for mail call, he got letters from his baby brothers, Speck and Badger, and Vesta. Thirteen-year-old Speck asked how he was doing in the Army and enclosed a water color painting the size of a postcard that he had done for the school art show, for which he had won an honorable mention. The painting showed a Kansas prairie landscape with a wood frame house backed by tall cottonwood trees. In his letter Speck told Bill that he was planning to finish school in a few more years and become an engineer for the railroad. Badger would be eleven years old in a few weeks and wondered if Bill would send him an Army pin for his birthday. He asked if he remembered the time they all went up on the hill and Bill helped them learn how to fly a kite. Vesta reported the gossip from the BusinessCollege in Hutchinson and her lack of interest in driving with any boys. She did not mention Tommy Smiths name in her letter at all. Bill had heard that Tommy had joined the infantry, but he did not know where he had been assigned. She would finish school at the end of the term and looked forward to getting a job in Hutchinson. She asked him to tell her about his typical day in the Army. Bill wrote back on Saturday night after leaving a wrestling match early. You ask of our army life: 6:00 am get up. 6:10 reveille. Mess 6:30. Police up and sick call at 7:00 to7:30. 8:30 to about 10:30 its Drill and Visual signals and from

10:30 to 11:30 its buzzer and line signals according to the day before. 12:00 mess. Then according to the day its about the same in the afternoon, only we quit at 4:30 and supper at 4:45 and then retreat at 5:15. Oh Yes, I forgot our double time and "Calisthenics". We sure get enough exercisewe always have a good appetite. InspectionsGosh, more inspections and you sure have to doll up. You know I had such a time with my arm and I havent had a well day hardly till last week and I asked to get out and drill so I went out. The drill and working in the barber shop are just too muchso I gave it up last nightof course not for good but till I get alrightI just don't want to give up. I think we will be on our way in a whilenot very long and I want to stay with my Company. No we havent left yet but expect to, most anytime they will have everything ready. Could go in a day or so. So just write me here and if I ain't here I will get it, for it will follow. Had a Kodak picture taken in my shop suit. immune system seriously damaged by his typhoid vaccination on January 26, Bill was taken to the BaseHospital the next day because he was finally unable to fulfill even minimal duties in the camp barber shop.

Private Wm. G. Holmes, Company Barber

Too stubborn to take enough time to rest and get well, or else with an

Tues Noon March 12 1918 I am in the field Hospitalfor when a man cant do duty he dont get quarters any more, but is sent to the hospital. So I am living high now on a bed that you cant help but sleep inand access to nearly anything you care for of course I cant work in the barbershop but I get fine treatment here. My arm is coming pretty fair but I had lumbago or something. So here I am have been here three days and have hoped each day I could get out as I felt so good but nothe Doctor says that I must stay, so I am resting peacefully. How are the boys? Tell them I would appreciate a few more lines if you please. And I bet they would enjoy sitting out on the porch and watching infantry drills and maneuvers as the hospital is on quite a hill and you can see the whole camp. Yesterday an observation balloon passed over the camp and in the evening an airplane came over from Kelly Field and did everything that was in his power to entertain the boys so as to help to pass the time. I havent a thing here to study so have to confine my self to reading we have a YMCA about 100 yards and a canteen where you can get Hot Cakes and eggs and good old country butter, milk and ice cream so I fare fine of course I have to pay for that but am glad at the chanceits a change and no I aint broke by any means even if I havent had a pay day since I enlisted and wont till I get out of hereI have my barber money and the other can pile up-- use my barber money for dainties Ha! Ha!

Bill's pay, a dollar a day plus the money he made from hair cuts was pretty competitive for the times. An Army haircut and shave cost two bits. But half his pay went to Kit despite their separation agreement that disallowed her rights to his Army pay. He had to seek assistance from the Army to have the matter corrected and signed this memo while recuperating from his vaccination.

Co. C, 9th Fld. Bn., Sig. Cps., Camp Samuel F. B. Morse, LeonSprings, Tex., March 13, 1918. From: To: Private William G. Holmes, Co. C, 9th Fld. Bn., Sig. Cps. Bureau of War Risk Insurance, Treasury Dept., Washington, D.C. (Thru Company Commander)

Subject:

Application for exemption from compulsory allotment.

1. I, hereby, apply to be exempted from compulsory allotment, under Section 201 of the Act of Congress approved October 6, 1918, to my wife, Mrs. Kathryn Holmes, (in care of J. M. Holland), Turon, Kansas, and, to my child, Maxine Holmes, age 10 months, in the custody of its mother. 2. Was married to Kathryn Holland, June 7, 1917, at Kansas City, Mo., and lived with her from date of marriage to December 19, 1917, residing at Hutchinson, Kansas. 3. I was informed by the Examining Board at Hutchinson, Kansas, that if an agreement be drawn up between my wife and myself that it would serve to exempt me from any compulsory allotments required by the Government. My wife applied for a divorce but being unable to obtain a hearing before the next term of court, she waived all rights of claim for support or maintenance of herself and child. Agreement was made and signed and am enclosing copy herewith. 4. To substantiate the facts on which I base this claim, will give witnesses, Mr. Herbert E. Ramsey, County Attorney, Reno County, Hutchinson, Kansas, and Mr. and Mrs. James M. Holland (my wife's parents) residing at Turon, Kansas. 5. Request enclosed agreement be returned to me after having served its purpose. 1 encl. (Signed) William G. Holmes.

Sworn to, and subscribed before me this 13th day of March, 1918. (Signed) H. W. Hall, Major, Signal Corps, Summary Court.

When he finally got out of the hospital on Friday, March 15, Bill discovered that he and the 100 men with whom he had been training for the Signal Corps had all qualified for a weekend pass to San Antonio. Never one to shirk orders, he got on one of the transport trucks and left the encampment with his new buddies in a convoy of trucks after noon mess. He showed up with Koss Chinn and Sgt. Hopkins in tow. Hopkins, a stout barrel-chested man of thirty-two, had taken Bill on as a project in FortLeavenworth. He had a hand in it when the decision was made to put Bills barbering license to use in LeonSprings. Hopkins was loud and jovial. Not in the least concerned with rules against fraternization. He felt some responsibility to

show Bill how to behave on leave not to keep him out of trouble, but to bail him out if the tequila and the Mexican women should have too much of their way with him.

San Antonio, Texas. Bill marveled at the thought of it. Here Davy Crockett fell to the Mexicans at the Alamo. The place felt like a foreign country but for the now familiar uniforms of ever-present military men preparing for the great expedition to end the war in Europe. Palm trees. Adobe buildings.Narrow streets. Brown skinned people with blue-black hair, speaking so rapidly they surely could not understand even themselves in a language foreign to nearly all their visitors. Chinn knew where to find the most ribald of the numerous vaudeville theatres in San Antonio. The comedians told vicious and off-color jokes at which the audience stomped their feet and howled with laughter. Musicians played honky-tonk and ragtime jazz loudly on poorly tuned and battered instruments. The burlesque dancers seemed beautiful viewed through the lenses of beer glasses. Some were overweight, most were mixed-race, Mestisos, a racial blending of Mexicanos and Indios, all dressed immodestly and behaving suggestively on stage, prancing and cavorting to the sensuous beat of the drums, leaving the stage mostly nude, but with some deference to the imaginations of the devil-may-care troops. They entertained a raucous crowd of men seeking a lifetime of entertainment in a three-hour revue. It was Bills first leave since joining the army. It signaled the end of preparation and the beginning of infamy. With his two best buds in the Signal Corps, Koss Chinn and Charlie Hopkins, and a half dozen compatriots from camp, they landed in the tavern district at the center

of town, found a large round table, and ordered bottles of pulque, a fermented cactus wine Bill had never tasted before. And this led to tequila, which was far more potent, much like white lightning. The men sat around a table in a dimly lighted smoky cantina. Mexican women served bottles of tequila, whiskey, and warm beer. They wore brightly colored peasant skirts and soiled white blouses, pulled low off their shoulders to expose the tops of their ample brown breasts. The room offered everything imaginable and some unimaginable faces from the dark side of humanity. What the devil is that?! Bill bellowed drunkenly. For in all his experience with Demon Rum he had never seen a worm in a bottle of liquor before. Separated from sobriety, their cares, fears, anticipation, excitement and anxiety about the upcoming trip Over There culminated with the discovery of a small pale worm in the bottom of a bottle of Mexican tequila that was being passed between himself, Chinn, and Sgt. Hopkins. Its the worm! You farm boy. Chinn replied, laughing heartily. Finish the bottle! Swallow the worm! Bill had enough to drink that he readily abandoned his repulsion at the idea of swallowing a worm to his craving for a good time. Hed spent weeks in hospital rooms, recovering from the vaccination. And by nature he was, if nothing else, a natural-born entertainer. So he put the long neck of the tequila bottle to his lips and drained it, tipping his head back until the bottle was straight up in the air. The worm, at first defying gravity inside the bottle, finally fell with a plop and disappeared through the bottles neck into Bills own. The others in the party roared with approval.

Hey, Bill, which of these girls you think youre going to have after closing? Hopkins asked his private first class barber. Ive got my eye on that one over there, nodding towards an ample senorita at the next table. Im thinking of that one, Bill said, staring at a much younger girl with long, thick black hair pulled up into a knot on the top of her head. Wisps of hair fell in curls around her forehead and clung to the moist, glistening skin at the nape of her neck. Perhaps half Bills age, the girl had luminous black eyes set apart over her delicate nose and high cheek bones. She had sensuous, full lips and wore no make up to cloud her soft, perfectly smooth complexion that seemed to glow even in the dim and smoky light of the cantina. The nipples of her delicate and firm breasts protruded beneath the white cotton blusa she wore low around her shoulders. She looked up to see Bill staring at her. She smiled, closed her eyes seductively, opened them again and turned away, exposing her back and shoulder blades. The definition of her spine dropped like an arrow down the center of her back. The girl held Bills attention throughout the evening. Mmm.Mmm.Hopkins shook his head. To be a youngster again. Hey Sarge, Bill said much too loudly to Hopkins, who sat across from him at the table, Whats the difference between a man from the North of Ireland and Kaiser Wilhelm? I give up, son, whats the difference? The Irishmans from Belfast and the Kaisers going to Hell fast! The men around the table hooted with delight. Sergeant Hopkins countered. Hey, Koss, did I tell ya I talked to Billys ex-wife back in Hutchinson before we left? Heck, no, Sarge, whatd she have to say?

She allowed as how Billyd always done his duty by her and now hes doing his duty by his country. She said, I feel right sorry for them Germans, to think of him going into battle with a rifle in his hand and Its a Long Way to Tipperary on his lips. Poor Germans, indeed, says I. Pitys lost on em. Aint you heard of their cruelties? Perhaps I aint, she says. And maybe you aint heard Billy sing! Sergeant Hopkins cackled in laughter at his own joke and everyone laughed out loud, Bill somewhat less enthusiastically than the others. Koss knew it was his turn. Hey Sarge, he said. Hopkins turned to the private, his face red, eyes watering. I hear the Captain was in the mess hall today raising hell with the cook. He says to Cookie, he says, this soup tastes like dishwater! The men snorted at the thought of the soup back on base. Oh yeah, he says, well you might want to know, it is the dishwater! Their table was as loud and boisterous as any in the room. Jokes about Army life and the Kaiser continued to fill the conversation. The certainty of a brief fight and a quick victory added to the ambience. The girl Bill had his eye on brought another bottle of tequila and set it on the table, standing next to him. As she leaned over their table to clear the empty bottles and full ashtrays, Bill felt the warmth of her body, mixed with the cheap essence of rose perfume. He touched the back of her leg with his hand. She moved her body slightly towards him and looked over her shoulder into his eyes. They smiled at each other simultaneously. When you off work, seorita? A las media noche.Quince minutos.Feefteenmeenits, she answered. Vengasconmigo?Si? Si! Bill replied grinning broadly, taking her meaning. He would think about Rosa another night. For now, alcohol and esprit dcorps had liberated his spirit. None of the men

would go to bed alone tonight, but Bill had claimed the top prize. Sgt. Hopkins shook his head in wonder. Koss nodded approvingly and winked. The pretty little waitress left the table and Bill took another drink. Damn the worm, he thought.

When Bill awoke the next morning his head felt heavy and thick, throbbing with the effects of the tequila. The pretty senorita from the cantina lay beside him, naked, asleep on her stomach, her face pointed to the wall away from his. He could not remember what she looked like the night before, nor how he got to this place. He looked around the room, wondering where he had left his clothes, and finally caught sight of them, strewn on the floor in random clumps, shirt and trousers inside out, as if he had been in a hurry to get undressed. For a while Bill could not or would not move, but eventually he responded to the call of nature and found a chamber pot to piss in, then he fell to his knees and vomited into the chipped, porcelain bowl. He staggered into the kitchen, his hostess still sleeping childlike in her bed, and found a glass that looked clean enough to use. He poured a glass of tepid tap water to rinse out his mouth. He could not get the cobwebs he felt on his tongue to go away. The sound of someone entering the little casa drove him back into the bedroom where he had pulled on his pants and was getting into his shirt when a dark-skinned woman who looked little older than Bill peered into the bedroom. Im just leavin maam er, senora. The woman looked at him quizzically as he walked past her on his way out the door. What am I doing here? Bill asked himself as he found his way through a dangerous and seedy looking neighborhood in the glare of the hot, mid-

morning sunlight. He thought of Rosa back home, waiting for him and perhaps for the first time since some long-forgotten childhood infraction, Bill felt ashamed of himself. When recounting their adventures that night to his family back in Langdon, Bill cleaned up his report quite a bit. I took my trip to San Antone and had one of the finest times. Oh Gee I wouldnt have passed it up for anythingSpent Sat afternoon, night and Sunday with Koss Chin and what a fine timewe went to all and everything. He is such a nice kidgee I only wish I could meet up with one like him every dayHe said to give you his best regards and believe me I sure will. We went to all the things and places of note and wont try to explain You know the roses are all out and the grass is nice and greenthe palms are so nice and in all, it was sure great, and nice pleasant weather.

A year later Koss Chinn chimed in about the outing in San Antonio with Bill, Sgt. Hopkins and their friends in a letter he wrote to Bills mother in February, 1919 that discloses none of the mischief. I saw your boy long after he had adapted himself to Army life and he was a credit to the glorious cause he represented. The training we got was very severe but he never had a complaint and conducted himself both in and out of Camp just as you would have him. I spent two days with him in San Antonio. We went to a show that evening and he spent the night with some other boys from his camp including Hopkins and I after about 11 p.m. We visited all the old historic places but made it a point to be at a good place to eat at meal times. The day was enjoyed very much by all of us especially we old friends.

Bill found several letters waiting from his old friends back in Langdon and Hutchinson when he returned to camp. And one showed a return address in delicate penmanship that said simply, R. Kelley; Langdon, Kans. He read her letter twice and had tears in his eyes when he folded it back into its envelope.

After a long day both out of the hospital and back onto full duty, he had to make another trip to the Judge Advocates office where he composed a letter to Ramsey to enlist his help in getting his pay instated. In regard to the agreement with my wife, Mrs. Kathryn Holmes, I have sent my copy with my appeal to Washington D. C. You see they forced me to make an allotment to her so I referred them to you and in making out the statement I am leaving it to you. If I went too far, when it comes to you, I want you to handle it and let me know what you can do, for I dont much want military court. It is a little different from civil court. It will likely be some time before you hear from them but it will also be some time before I get any money, as they will hold mine till the matter is straight so will pay you for your trouble, for she dont deserve the change

Feeling recovered from the vaccination, Bill finished the month of March in LeonSprings before beginning the trek "Over There." He became increasingly bitter towards Kit. Had she signed his deferment, he would not have been in Texas, getting ready for whatever waited for him on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Didnt he marry her to give their child his name? Hadnt that been the right thing to do? Yet out of bitterness, or perhaps as punishment, she refused to give him his deferment from military service and here he was. In spite of the enthusiasm he often expressed to his parents in letters he wrote to them, he was still only twentyeight years old with the rest of his life on hold. He had become increasingly morose during private times, missing Rosa, especially for the days on end he had spent in the hospital, alone, surrounded by other sick soldiers. He had plenty of time to brood on his circumstances. What would his life have been like now if he had married her five years ago? How would things have worked out differently? Would he ever see her again? These questions had plagued him as he waited impatiently in the hospital to recover

from his illness. He could see the other men in the field preparing for battle. He had longed to be with them rather than on his back in a stark white hospital room counting dust motes in the sunlight pouring through the windows in the afternoons. Ramseys reply came a week later.

TERMS OF COURT
FIRST TUESDAYS IN JANUARY, APRIL AND SEPTEMBER

W. A. HUXMAN, DEPUTY COUNTY ATTORNEY OFFICE OF

HERBERT E. RAMSEY
COUNTYATTORNEY
RENOCOUNTY HUTCHINSON, KANSAS.

.
Dear Sir:-

Jan. 19, 1918.

Yours of the 18th at hand, and contents noted. In reply, will say that you did perfectly all right in referring them to me, and I shall be pleased to give you or them any information that I can on the matter. I know all the circumstances of the matter and am quite sure that I can satisfy them on any questions they may ask. Yours very truly, Herbert Ramsey

HR-RZ.

With a week left in March, word finally came to the regiment that they would be shoving off soon. He wrote to his mother. How are you all? How are Badger and Speck? I have their picture in front of mewould like to spend the afternoon with them. I bet Speck and Badger are having a time with those young chickens you will have to eat my fried chicken this spring. Am as fat as I care to be. Weigh 187 lbs. So I am O.K. Dont think we will leave here for some time. Say. I aint worrying!

Holy Gee!! Just out from dinner to say I sure had enough Roast Pork, brown gravy, mashed potatoes, peas, corn and ice waternot so bad I wont kick it was well cooked I am going to have a full pack gee it is a load and we havent a gun outside a pistol, oh pity the infantry. Will write again when we locate. Well, drop me a line and I will close with love to all Your Son and Bro Bill And he wrote to Rosa. I dont know when nor where but we are preparing to leave here and when I write again it wont be from herebut if you write it will get to me so long as it has the Company and Battalion on it we hear all kind of rumors but I am waiting patiently am ready at a very short noticewe have our full equipment now, everythingonly guns and our heavy wool sox which we will wear over there, and they are in the store all packed. I am sending my Traveling bag As soon as you get it let me know and when you see Vesta, give it to her or send it to her, for I told her I would send it to her-- we cant take it nor nothing but issued stuff. No, I have never heard from Kit since I left and dont expect to when we settle for a spell I will have to get busy as my money will be held up for quite a while Ramsey is my counsel free of charge and he handles it. We had airplanes galore today from 50 feet high to aboutwell, just looked like a wee speck and with a field glass you could barely make them out. Will write again when we locate. I think of you every day and of the life we should have had together. Someday I will come for you, but until then I will be with you in your dreams, every night. Your loving Bill