October 8, 1918
Camp Funston, Kansas
My Dear Lucille Marie,
It is raining tonight just enough to make me have the lonesome jimmies. I am still playing the part of a "dry nurse" ha ha Some name us boys have invented for a gentleman nurse, eh. The roof of our hospital has been leaking in several places and we have been having some time keeping the poor devils dry. The lightening burned our lights all out at once, and we had a h--- of a time. It was a real hard electric storm for a while. They are keeping our beds all filled with new patients as fast as we send the old ones "home well" or to the hospital, half dead. There haven't been so many cases the last 48 hours. I sure hope that they all get well soon, for I am sure getting tired of the job. Don't like to stay up every night the best in the world. We put 6 more of our boys in bed today. We are getting real short handed.
There has been a squad of airplanes here for several days, making demonstration flights. They sure do pull off some good stunts. Would love for you to see some of the show. Do they still sail over Cleveland on those trips yet? There aren't any stationed here, but they come in quite frequently.
Say honey, I wish you could have been here last night to hear the noise. Some way, (by a bogus telegram, I guess) the news got out that the Germans had given up and surrendered. This word came just a few minutes before "taps" or bedtime, and the cheering began over at headquarters and it wasn't 5 minutes till they were yelling all over the camp till you couldn't hear yourself think. They even had some of the Company bands out tooting their horns.
The M.P.s had a deuce of a time quieting things down before midnight, but it was real funny to listen to and just to see how quick the word spread all over the camp. Though it was all in vain, I guess, for the paper didn't say much about it today. Us boys had our special train already ordered, to take us home. ha ha Well, they just now brought 8 more sick ones in, so will have to go put them to bed.
Hello again. We have all those sick birds tucked into their beds. It sounds almost like a minstrel to hear them snoring and jabbering in their sleep. They drill for awhile, squads right or left, and then they are back home again, loving their sweethearts almost to death. We get to hear lots of secrets that they don't intend to tell. It's sure funny to listen to them. A fellow was dreaming a while ago and fell out of bed and let a squawk out of him that almost scared us to death. He sure looked foolish when we picked him up.
Well sweet chicken, I will close for now, as you know that news is scarce. About all I can think of is how good I love you and you already know that. Oodles of love.
Your (Dry Nurse),
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1998-2002, Tom Johnston