Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Food and Tobacco now that Herb's in Europe


January 26, 1918
Dear Mother,

Don’t expect much real news in this paper because we aren’t allowed to say anything “that might be information for the enemy.” I am in England, at a rest camp for American troops not far I judge from where Tom is, or was. I’m not allowed to say when I arrived here or when I’ll leave, though I don’t know the latter any way. Yesterday I called you to let you know I’m all right because the mails are slow and uncertain. I asked you to tell Karolyn because I knew you could find her address readily and cablegrams cost too much to send two.

We had a very uneventful trip across, being well convoyed. It wasn’t very rough so I wasn’t seasick, but the food was awful. Here, where I am now, the food is really good. There is quite a camp – I never saw so many soldiers in my life. The English treat us well and seem glad to have us around. My address is what I told you before – exactly like this

Private Charles H. Lee
Section 580, U.S.A. Amb. Service
American Expeditionary Forces,
Via New York

I have only one complaint to make – foreign tobacco is awful to me – and the price is staggering. I wish you’d send me some Serene Mixture and some Lucky Strike Cigarettes not very many – a couple of dollars’ worth so if they get lost it won’t be so bad. By that time I probably won’t be here, but I have a supply and my address is the same wherever I may be.

The scarcest thing in England seems to be newspapers. I haven’t heard any news since I left the U.S. except rumors of a popular revolt in Austria. I hope there’s something in it. The U.S.A. looks awfully good after you leave it.

Please try not to worry, Mother. I’m taking as good care of myself as possible and spite [sic] of that voyage and all I feel pretty fit. To the best of my ability I’ll keep you posted as to my condition at all times, but it may not be very often. This is the first letter I’ve been able to write so far.

With love to all,
Your affectionate son,
Herbert

Tell Chas I’ve gone, please. I’ll try to write him later.

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