Hanging in Boxhorn, Luxembourg

I don't know anything about Harry attending Cornell.

Can you imagine being one of the 'peasants' Herb talks about? Criticizing them for 'swiping most anything not tied down'? I can't imagine the deprivation these people have suffered during the many years of war. Makes me think of refugees fleeing civil war in current times. An awful existence.

Here we see the route that Herb has taken to get to this point:

December 4^th [1918]

Dearest Mother,

There have been two letters from the family this past week and the mail is now beginning to come in quite regularly as the lines of communication become established.

We are still in the same little village in Luxembourg and it is insufferably dull. How I do wish I could get back to work. Of course there is very little to do here. There are no longer wounded to carry and not very many sick.

We had a very nice dinner Thanksgiving day roast chicken, hashed browned potatoes, sweet crackers, apple pie and cocoa. The crackers and cocoa were donated by the Red Cross at Sedan where the Lieutenant had been to get some spare parts. Getting the chicken and the apples was quite a job. These people here didn’t want to sell at first, because they say money is of little use to them, but they nearly fell over themselves trying to trade for coffee. There has been practically no coffee here since the war; what there was cost about seven dollars a pound. Naturally these peasants couldn’t pay it, so they’ve had to make a substitute out of roasted barley. And so far about five pounds of coffee we got eleven nice chickens – cheap enough.

The Red Cross also donated a sweater and a pair of socks all around.

It continues to rain here practically all the time. However the priest in whose house three of us are staying keeps a good fire for us. I’m feeling quite fit as usual.

All the peasants do all day long is sit around the fire – and go to church about four times a day. The church going doesn’t do them much good seemingly because they’d swipe most anything not tied down.

While we’re settled down here I’m trying to catch up on my correspondence. For the last two months we had moved so much that I wrote to no one but you and Karolyn and I owe a good many letters.

In your last letter was Tom’s address. I must write him this week. I’m very glad to hear the old boy is getting along nicely.

My congratulations to Harry on getting in at Cornell. I suppose that will keep him right on regardless of the Armistice. I hope so because I think it will be a good thing for him

I think I wished you all a Merry Christmas in the last letter. Well it will be my last away from you all, I hope.

Your affectionate son,

Herb.

And here is a Google map view of Boxhorn. My goodness, wouldn't it be wonderful if I could find the priest's house using Google maps? My goodness technology can be a wonderful thing.