"Same old Bill, eh Mable!" by Edward Streeter (different ereaders txt) π
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- Author: Edward Streeter
Read book online Β«"Same old Bill, eh Mable!" by Edward Streeter (different ereaders txt) πΒ». Author - Edward Streeter
Well, Mable, in about an hour I felt like I was in the hot room of a Turks bath. I dont see how the Germans is so fat if they sleep between these things.
The young girl in a kimony on the cover of the Murad boxes gives you an idear how you sleep on a German bed. I never knew why she looked so discouraged before.
The old fello that owned the bed seemed kind of scared at first. I guess he thought after we found what it was like we might commit a few awtrocities just to put us to sleep.
We agreed to call off the awtrocities if hed leave his Frow cook us up a mess of waffles toot sweet. Frow is what they call there wives, Mable. I guess its short for Frowsie.
I got to start in forgettin my French now an begin on Dutch. I bet I talk pigen Inglish when I get home. I dont have much trouble with languiges tho. I can say quite a few things already like "Ya" and "Nine" an "Vas iss." Thats all right if your Just out for a social time but it aint any good in commershul life.
Its no use tellin you to rite I never get your letters.
yours disgustedly
Bill
Dere Mable:
We crossed the Rine day before yesterday. It was Friday the 13th but the bridge held up in spite of it. The Rine didnt look like much to me. Im not much of a judge of rivers tho. Its been rainin for three days an it would take an awful lot of water in one place to make much impreshun on me.
We all thought we was goin to a town by the name of Coblence. The Mess sargent had told us everybody was to have a room to himself an that most of the time when we wasnt at the movies wed be canoin up an down the river. The armies got an idear tho that if you let a soldier get near anything thats worth while hell take it to pieces an cart it away. So they saved Coblence by goin around it.
That night we stuck the horses and guns in the front yard of a Chatto. It looked more like Central Park to me. The fello that owned the place was standin at the gate when we came in. He had on a green felt hat with the edges curled up like a derby an a feather stuck in it. I wouldnt have been surprised if hed started to yodel. I bet he was as glad to see us as the meesels. A regiment of field artilery walkin around your front yard aint no grass cultivator.
This isnt a bad place to lay over for a day tho. The town is built round a big cliff. On top is the ruins of an old cassel. Some of the town tried to clime up the side of the cliff an got stuck half way. In the house where Im bilited the front door is where it ought to be an the back door opens onto the street from the third floor. I can hear your mother sayin, "Run up in the attik, Mable, an see who that is knockin at the back door."
Theres a little stream runnin thru the town. Its very beautiful an full of tin cans. The sides are all bricked up. The Fritzes would make the trees grow square if they could. The hills go straight up all around us. I dont know how the stream ever got in here or how were goin to get out. It certinly is a useful place for artilery. About the only thing you could shoot out of here would be a skyrocket.
They told us we was goin to have yesterday to ourselves. Then the last minit they made us all take a bath. In the army they dont give you credit for knowin how or when to take a bath. They have a corperal there to show you. The one they had on the job yesterday must have learned from a correspondence school.
You dont get into a bath here. You take it out of something an spread it over you. This time theyd heated a big kettle of water in a wood shed. You dipped out a pailful an put some of it over you an the rest over your close. Just about the time youve got a good lather worked up the corperal says "Come on. Hurry up an get your close on. Your eight minits is up." Ford ought to get hold of that fello. Hed have them poppin out of the factory like corn out of a roaster.
I didnt get a bath, but I didnt need one. Me an Angus both took one the day after the armistice was signed. There aint nothin thatll keep a man fit like keepin clean as the poets say.
Everyones sore at these Dutchmen. They havnt got as much spirit as a bottle of near beer. All they do is take off there hats to us like we was a bunch of ladies an say "Tag." I thought first they was sayin "Dog." I went to the Captin an ast him if I could clean up with the next fello that said it.
The Captin said Tag was just Fritz for Howdy. Then I ast him if I could clean up half a dozen of them anyway just to get them started on the right lines. He says "Smith, if you try any of your back alley sanitashun around here youll be cleanin up around the gard house as quick as we get one." He thinks hes awful funny. Thats the way it goes, tho, Mable. One day your a quitter if you dont throw everything but the kitchin stove at a fello and the next day they want you to kiss him.
Im sendin you a lot of post cards I paid eighty two fennigs for. I dont know wether that was a bargin or a fortune. I never seen any places like these but they give you a good idear of the country. I got to quit now cause there linin up for mess. If I ever get out of this army I wont stand in line agen if they was handin out five dollar bills. If you want to go to the movies with me you got to go early an avoid the rush.
Tell Archie Wainwright I wish him a merry Crismus cause its liable to be his last. His only chance for a happy New Year is if the war breaks out agen.
Until it does yours
Bill
Dere Mable:
Weve quit hikin at last. Not because we get anyplace tho. Why they stopped here when there is a road goin right thru is more than I can figger. Theres about fifty houses in this place. I guess most of them was built as soon as the flood was dried out enuff sos they could lay the foundashuns. I havnt seen a new house since I been in Germany. A place that wed be puttin bronze tablets on they think has just been built.
They seem to be short on everything over here. From what I seen they live mostly on potadoes. The only thing they get enuff of is mud. Our guns is parked in a field an if we stay here much longer well have to blast to get them out.
The Captin says the rules on letter ritin is off an we can say where we are. The only thing we cant do is criticize the army. I dont know where we are an I couldnt spell it anyhow so theres not much to rite about.
We sleep in rooms now insted of barns. The Dutch dont seem to care much. I can hear your mother if four tramps came walkin into her front parlor an went to sleep on the floor. The old fello that owns the room thinks were crazy because we have to open our windos every night. He told Joe Bush there wasnt any use makin a fire for us cause when he spent the whole evenin gettin the room full of heat wed open the windo an let it all out. When we first got into that room I guess it had the original heat his granfather put in it.
Crismus is only a few days away. I suppose theyll let us sleep half an hour extra for a Crismus present an then forget to tell the buglers like they did last year. About all it amounted to was standin around in the rain half an hour longer for mess.
I havnt had my feet under a table now in four months. Theyve gotten so big since I been wearin these army shoes that I dont know if theyll go under any more. When I get home Ill probably pile my whole dinner in a soup plate an take it out in the back yard.
All feelin aside, Mable, it certinly will be good to get my food seperated agen. These fellos would pour your coffee over your dinner if there was any room. When you come up to the kitchin the first K.P. sticks a piece of meat in the bottom of your mess kit. Thats a sort of a foundashun. Then a spoonful of loose potadoes hit it like a soft nose bullet an thats the last you see of your meat. The next fello covers that with a quart of gravy an sticks a pickle in the top with his thum like inlaid work. The last one levels it off with a piece of bread slammed on like a cover. Angus says its a wise man that knows his own dinner unless hes got a good memory.
Ive learned to put down an awful lot of food, tho, in less time than it takes to chew it. You got to be fast if you want any seconds. Some of these fellos must store up there food like squirrels cause there finished an back in the line before its moved ten places. Theres always some smart alex that washes up his mess kit an pretends hes just come up from the picket line. We got a mess sargent tho that makes Shylock Homes look like a night watchman. He could tell yesterdays greece from todays if you scoured your mess kit with sandpaper.
The Fritzes are more balled up on there money than the French. These fellos dont even know what the stuffs worth themselves. They have two kinds of money, fennigs an marks. I dont know wether marks make fennigs or fennigs make marks. I know they both make me tired. Its about as easy to buy anything here as it is to check up a Chinese lawndry bill. They tell you the price of a thing in fennigs an marks. Then you got to figger that into franks an figger what its all worth in United States. Just to give your mind a little exercise fennigs an marks aint the same more than five minites. Everybody has there own idear of what there worth an the fello thats doin the sellin never has the same idear that you have.
The first time I bought a glass of beer in Germany it took me so long to pay for it I almost got arrested for bein out after taps. We never did decide the thing. The
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