PLATTSBTTRG, N. Y.
August, 1915.
[DEAR OLD MAN:]
This is a very real thing, and strenuous. I know
now why God invented Sunday. The first two days were mighty hard,
and I had to work extra to catch up. I don't know a darned
thing, and after watching soldiers for years, find that I have
picked up nothing that they have to learn. The only things I
have learned don't count here, as they might under marching
conditions. My riding I find is quite good, and so is my
rifle shooting. As you could always beat me at that you can
see the conditions are not high. But being used to the army
saddle helps me a lot. I have a steeple chaser on one side
and a M. F. H. on the other, and they can't keep in the
saddle, and hate it with bitter oaths. The camp commander
told me that was a curious development; that the best
gentlemen jockeys and polo players on account of the saddle,
were sore, in every sense. Yesterday I rose at 5-30,
assembled for breakfast at six, took down tent to ventilate
it, when a cloud meanly appeared, and I had to put it up
again. Then in heavy marching order we drilled two hours as
skirmishers, running and hurling ourselves at the earth, like
falling on the ball, and I always seemed to fall where the
cinder path crossed the parade ground. We got back in time to
clean ourselves for dinner at noon. And then practised firing
at targets. At two we were drilled as cavalry in extended
order. We galloped to a point, advanced on foot, were driven
back by an
imaginary enemy, and remounted. We galloped as a squadron,
and the sight was really remarkable when you think the men had
been together only four days. But the horses had been doing
it for years. All I had to do to mine was to keep on. He
knew what was wanted as well as did the Captain. After that
we put on our packs and paraded at retreat to the band. Then
had supper and listened to a lecture. I ache in every bone,
muscle, and joint. But the riding has not bothered me. It is
only hurling the damned rifle at myself. At nine I am sound
asleep. It certainly is a great experience, and, all the men
are helping each other and the spirit is splendid. The most
curious meetings come off and all kinds of men are at it from
college kids to several who are great grand fathers. Russell
Colt turned up and was very funny over his experiences. He
said he saluted everybody and one man he thought was a general
and stood at attention to salute was a Pullman car conductor.
The food is all you want, and very good. I've had nothing to
drink, but sarsaparilla, but with the thirst we get it is the
best drink I know. I have asked to have no letters forwarded
and if I don't write I hope you will understand as during the
day there is not a minute you are your own boss and at night I
am too stiff and sleepy to write.
All love to you.
DICK.
