Wars Change, the Words Don’t
Throughout the ages, letters have provided windows on wars, brief written glimpses into the hopes, the fears, the lives and deaths of their writers and recipients. In the Civil War’s aftermath, Memorial Day began spontaneously as Decoration Day, when mothers from both sides began decorating graves of the fallen. Here, from “War Letters: Extraordinary Correspondence From American Wars,” edited by Andrew Carroll, and “Voices From the Front: Letters Home From America’s Military Family,” edited by Frank Schaeffer, are some timeless words from wars. Some of the dates and locations were added, but the spelling and punctuation are those of the writers.
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William Mayberry, a Union soldier, apparently had heard his wife was seen at a picnic with another man. On Aug. 7, 1862, at Culpeper Court House, Va., he sent a letter angrily reproaching her, then added:
I hope you are better and Willie and Mary are ditto. Glad to hear you got the money. For me I dream of being home nearly every night but when the drum beats in the morning I wake up and find it ain’t there.
Your loving husband, WWM
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March 11, 1862, Virginia
My dear Sister. Yesterday one of our Generals was sitting down to his dinner when the rebels fired a cannon ball which struck so close to him as to spatter the dirt all over him and his dinner. There is scarcely an interval of ten minutes during the day that our men and the rebels do not fire at each other....
Your affectionate brother, Armstrong [as in George Armstrong Custer]
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April 1862, Pittsburg Landing, Tenn.
Dear Father. With sadness I sit down to write you a few lines to let you know that I am still living and well but with sorrow I will have to tell you that poor George was layed low by a rebbel ball last Sunday morning.... I suppose there was two hundred or over killed and wounded in our regiment.... I came off pretty safe I did not get a wound but I had three bullet holes put through my blouse.... Enclosed you will find some of the trimming of a secesh officers coat sleave that I took off Monday evening after the battle.... I do wish you would write I have written two letters and got no answers.... I have been in one of the hardes battles that ever was fought in the new world but I never want to get in another one for it is not what it is cracked up to be....
Good bye from your son, C. Huddle
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Sept. 20, 1918, France
Dearest Woman ... My one prayer is that I may be privileged to have one more opportunity to try to make you happy. I trust it will be granted me.... My girl, my girl, how do I miss you. I didn’t think it possible for one to be possessed of the longing I have for you. At night I lay awake and think and think of you, the roar of the big guns, giving way before the press of mental pictures of you ... the heart aches I have caused you stand out like the shell holes that deface much of this country that once was so beautiful.... Good night and God bless and preserve you. Write -- write.
Your devoted Hubby
[One week later, 2nd Lt. Francis Tracy was killed. Six weeks later, his wife, Gertrude, got the news.]
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May 28, 1944, Anzio, Italy
Dear Mitchell ... I don’t think any man can easily explain combat. It’s beyond words. Take a combination of fear, anger, hunger, thirst, exhaustion, disgust, loneliness, homesickness, and wrap that all up in one reaction and you might approach the feelings a fellow has. It makes you feel mighty small, helpless and alone.... You don’t get so very hungry, but thirst drives you crazy. I have drunk water with everything in it and liked it. You have no energy but still you go on....
Love, Paul
[Mitchell was Paul Curtis’ younger brother. Paul died three days later.]
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Feb. 3, 1945, France
Dear Folks ... About 0930, an 88 mm zoomed past me. I looked down and my rt hand was gone. Well, it was about 1500 before I got back to a station to get morphene and my stub bandaged.... So from then I decided I would be left-handed.... The cookies arrived today, and they were surely good. Have a few left yet. Keep smiling and I’ll do the same.
Love to all, Chick
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March 22, 1968, Vietnam
Dear Mom, Dad, Ruth, Pat. We are located somewhere around Phu Bai and Hue North. It sure is a durty hole here. You wear the same cloths until they fall off you and then they give you a new pair. The country is not worth fighting for but the good we do for the Viet Nams is good. These people are so far back in the world that it’s sad.... Boy would give everything in the world to be home. That’s the place where everyone belongs. You should see my nice tan I have already. I think some of it is durt.
Love, your son Tim
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Sept. 16, 1996, Bosnia
Dear Conor, I am very sorry I could not be home for your 7th birthday, but I will soon be finished with my time here in Bosnia and will return to be with you.... I remember the day you were born and how happy I was.... I didn’t let anyone else hold you much because I wanted to hold you all the time.... There aren’t any stores here in Bosnia, so I couldn’t buy you any toys or souvenirs for your birthday. What I am sending is something very special though. It is a flag. This flag represents America and makes me proud each time I see it.... Sometimes this flag is even more important to [Bosnians] than it is to people who live in America because some Americans don’t know much about the sacrifices it represents or the peace it has brought to places like Bosnia. This flag was flown ... on 16 Sept. 1996. It was flown in honor of you on your 7th birthday....
Love, Dad
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Sept. 29-30, 2003, Parris Island, S.C.
Hey Mommy, Daddy and Beth-alee, I hope you’re all doin’ well. Sorry I haven’t written in so long.... From now on when you send a letter put a power bar, oatmeal cookie or something in there. Unless of course I’m not worth an extra stamp! Ha, ha that would be kinda nice though. Well gonna let ya go now. Love ya bunches. Bye, bye.
With love PVT Lussi
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The following three letters are from the same writer:
Feb. 16, 2003, Kuwait
Dear Mom, Dad & Timmy Toes, I’ve been here two weeks and I finally took my first shower today. I can’t describe how good it felt.... Besides that, did I mention how much I absolutely hate this place? I hate the sand, I hate the sun, I hate the wind, I hate it all. Sorry, just had to get that off my chest....
March 5, 2003
Dear Family ... I’ve decided to give up swearing and belittling people for Lent. It seemed like the only thing I could give up out here that would make me a better man....
March 28, 2003
You can read every book on war there is to read. And talk to vets about their experiences. But nothing can prepare you for what you see. Our company has taken two casualties so far.... The other one was our lieutenant. He got shot in the gut in our first fight. I was standing right next to him when he got hit and it didn’t look too bad at first. But he died before the Medivac chopper got here.... I’ve never seen anyone die before, especially someone as close to me as him.... I’d never been so scared in my entire life. I’ve never felt so all alone. One minute he was there fighting, the next he was gone....
Yours truly Matthew Wayne Webster, LCpl. USMC
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Letter found at the Vietnam Memorial:
Dear Dick, You were my firstborn. With your laughing eyes and mischievious grin, you stole my heart. I remember you as a little boy -- the forts you built, the adventures you took, the rescued critters you brought home.... I’ll never forget, when you were 12 years old you stood so proudly beside me as they played taps for your Dad and gave us his flag.... You didn’t say too much in your letters -- but I knew you were in danger.... I found out later on June 6, 1968 you were on a team with some South Vietnamese soldiers and your group was pinned down under fire. You were hit several times before you died. You were only 19 years old. There are no words to describe how I felt. I was so empty ... inside, the empty space just grew larger....
It’s been a long time, my son. I still miss you. I will always miss you ... when I go to the Wall, it’s almost like you’re there with me. Each time I run my fingers over your name on that cold, granite wall, I can feel the warmth of your laughter as if you are saying, ‘It’s OK, Mom. I’m here.’ I know I will never hold you in my arms again. But I will forever hold you close to my heart because you will always be my firstborn -- my shining star.
Love, Mom