We left Ft. Wood in fine shape. For my part, I hadn’t a regret. We had an easy sort of time there, but it was just about long enough. We left at about 9 this morning, and of course it didn’t take long to get to the ship. It looks like a good safe one.
On the dock the kindly Red Cross distributed buns and coffee. It was there we parted from our barrack bags. Belt, blanket roll and haversack are no small load of themselves, and carrying a barracks bag in addition is no summer morning pleasure for a fellow my size. I was just about learning to manage when it was time to get rid of the thing.
The same good old Red Cross gives each man, as he comes up the gangplank, two of those “Safe Across” cards. One will come to you and the other to the Folks. Then the Y hands out writing paper and a little booklet on what to do and not to do on troopships. They seem to take good care of us.
We had noon mess aboard; it was good. Then our bunch had a wild scramble for bunks. So far I’ve had three different ones; I’ll keep this if I can. It is conveniently near the necessary things and shows signs of being livably airy.
You can’t imagine and of course haven’t seen, what a busy place a transport is when men are coming aboard. All kinds of work going on; crowds of soldiers all around, some reading, writing and chatting, others at the eternal card games; army and navy officers and men rushing back and forth on some business or other; hammering, machining, work, work, work. Makes you realize that it takes more than patriotic meetings to win a war.
Of course I was hoping to get on John’s old boat, but I really don’t know whether she’s in port or not. He said he had spoken to one of the other officers about us and said I was to look him up. However, since John is off, it won’t matter anyhow.
Just took a turn on deck, (that’s the proper term, I believe). Great place. But, I wish we’d sail soon; I’ve looked long enough at N.Y.C. without being able to get to it. It is 4:30 and they’re lining up for mess. When one looks at the mess line it seems as though they feed the whole blamed army here; guess I’m not hungry yet.
This letter may be the last for some time: I am told it will be mailed before we leave, but then on is told many things, you know. Here’s hoping.
Next post June 15
Letters from Sidney Friend During The Great War 