[Letter of Robert Lincoln O’Connell to his mother, probably July 3, 1917]

Washington Barracks,
Tuesday.

Dear Mother:

	I just got your letter and one from Ellen. I got your other a few 
days ago. Jim Anderson is right about the thirty dollars a month, but it 
didn’t begin until last month and we expect to get it this week. When I 
do, I will either send $20.00 home or make a visit instead. I haven’t had 
chance to find out what they intend doing but I know I am making a pretty 
good record in the company. The captain told us last week that eight or 
ten men would be left behind because they were too stupid or weren’t 
considered fit to go with the regiment to France. I won’t be in that 
bunch if I can help it, as there is some honor in going over but only 
a disgrace in being a castoff. 

(2)
When the news first got out a month ago, that we were going to France, 
some of the fire-eaters were delighted, until the officers explained 
what they would have to do. Then they weren’t so anxious and kept pretty 
still for a few days. It was no news to me and if I go, I will do the best 
I can. This life is a wonderful bracer and I am glad I joined. From the 
way the doctors at Slocum looked me over and poked around, I must have 
been pretty well run down. They tested my right lung and wanted to know 
if I had a cough. I never felt so blue in my life and was glad when 
they let me through. I am getting pretty well hardened now and can 
easily do work that would have played me out when I enlisted. Tomorrow 
is the Fourth. I should like to be home for the day but that is out of 
the question but I shall try to get home next week 

(3)
if they are going to take me. We will have to drill tomorrow morning 
but will have the afternoon off til five oclock, when we have to 
assemble. In the evening there will be a band concert and moving 
pictures on the parade ground. They have pictures every week, generally
two short ones and a five reel feature. They are always good. The kids 
and their mothers from outside the Post took to coming and last Sunday 
night there were so many that they had to be kept back to leave room 
for the men and the officers’ families. Tomorrow night the gates will 
be closed at 6:30 to keep them out. They are mostly foreigners or poor 
white trash or niggers. Some of them had little gardens this spring, 
about as big as our kitchen. In one garden they had potatoes planned 
six inches apart 

(4)
in a furrow 2 or 3 inches deep. The rows were about the right distance 
apart though, but I haven’t bothered to walk past that house since. 
We can guess what that garden is doing. I suppose Mary Jones will be 
happy now but she need not have been so particular about paying for 
everything. I guess her brother Dannie is nearly gone. That reminds 
me about our Dan. I wish he would brace up and realize what people
must think about him and his hair. A young lad in this company
wouldn’t comb his hair and they finally sent him to the barber who 
clipped it off close. As lots of the men have theirs clipped, it wasn’t 
noticed much. I will write again in two or three days.
	Your affectionate son,
			Rob. 

[Transcribed 4/18/2009 by W.J. Shepherd]