November 19, 1918
My Dearest Lucille,
Here I am still in this burg, expecting to leave every minute for the last four or five days. I sure am sick of this place for life. It has turned cold and has been raining for a couple of days now. I guess that winter has set in for sure.
Well, we just got some orders that we have waited for so long, though I am almost afraid for they change them so darned often.
We leave this afternoon for Wabash, Indiana, after a bunch of Convoy trucks which we will drive to Baltimore. I rather dread the trip now, as it will surely be very bad weather and those mountain roads will be no place for a delicate little fellow like me. Well, sweetheart, the first thing for you to do now will be to write me a big long letter and mail it to Cambridge, Ohio. I may miss it but I want one so bad that I can't wait till any later than that so you must take your time and hurry and write.
|The trucks had "open air" cabs, which made the trip more challenging in the winter.|
After that one big letter, I can go a few days I guess, so you can write me a dozen or so letters a day for a week at Fredrick, Maryland. We sould be there about the last of this month, and if I don't find a bundle of mail there, I am going to put a jinx on you when I come home, in a month or so. I think that I will get to eat my Christmas dinner with you all o.k. and perhaps a lot more along with it.
Well, sweetheart, I am at the Khaki Club now, about three squares from the Masonic hall, where we are stationed. And I am afraid that something might happen that I won't know about, so will close the argument for now. This running around this way, not knowing where I will be next day or anything else for sure, has almost blown me up for writing letters. I can't swear to many facts that I tell and be safe in doing so. ha ha Good bye till I can get to a new home and maybe can tell some more of the big guess stuff. Oceans of love.
Your man always,
1998-2002, Tom Johnston