Tues. Sept. 11, 1917

Dear Marie,

The fudge and proofs came O.K. Say you sure had good luck with that
batch. It was the real stuff and tasted great. Thankee, come again. I
did not like the pictures very well. The expression on your face is too
sober for the bright-eyed little girl that I left. Your hair looks fine,
I think. In another envelope, I am sending some bum pictures. This sure
is some poor work. I am going to develop my films myself after this and
send them home to get the prints. I was pretty disappointed in the one
of George and I. He has my camera case an on his shoulder and is
operating the heliograph key. We expect to get paid any day now but
there are lots of things we expect, that we don’t get. I got something
that I didn’t expect this morning. We were grooming the horses out on
the picket chain, and I got a wild one. The first sergeant, O’Brien,
warned me to watch his front feet and I was very careful and got one
side all brushed up fine, with only a few false motions on the part of
the horse. Then Captain Mitchum came and said he wanted the names of all
expert and amateur photographers. I left the horse and went over to sign
up. When I came back, I stepped up to the front of my horse and just as
I got within four or five feet of him, a fellow spoke to me and I turned
a little to answer. The next thing I knew, I felt something like a good
healthy brick on my jaw and I hit the sod like a rock. A couple fellows
picked me up and took me over to the hose and washed the blood and dirt
away. My shirt was torn in strips from my shoulder half way down my
right side. I went down to the hospital and had the cuts on my jaw
dressed and then hit it for the barracks. I didn’t miss a single drill
period although my jaw was a little stiff and I had a slight headache.
Another fellow was laid low by the same horse, and now no one but
Sergeant Gillespie is allowed to groom him. I don’t see how the army can
use a saddle horse that is wild enough to plunge at a man and knock him
down with his front feet, when he ain’t even within arms reach of him. I
think I got out pretty lucky and am thankful that no blame was placed on
me, for being careless. We are learning to saddle and mount our horses
now. I suppose we will just be learning to ride and then I’ll be
transferred Co. A of the 5^(th) Bn. is already having mounted drill but
we only have ten saddles for 75 men so only a few of us have ever been
on one. Each of us will have a horse when we are in the field except the
men who drive the horses on the wagon wireless set in my section. It
looks pretty neat to see a company of men ride by with each horse in his
proper place in the column. When Captain Mitchum called for
photographers, I signed up as an expert. He said “How many years
experience?” I said four. Then he asked if I knew anything about color
photography. I answered, “Autochrome and Hess-Ives process. He looked as
if to say “nuff ced” and put me down as O.K. Believe me one has to be a
perfectly good little bluffer in order to push ahead. I am not anxious
to leave this outfit though, but the more varied my experience the more
I will get out of it. I have qualified in wig-wag and all the General
Service code stuff such as heliograph and acetylene flash telegraph and
can receive and transmit on the buzzer better than some that enlisted as
operators. I am going to try to qualify in semaphore next Thursday but
it will be by a close shave if I make it. The fifth section was out for
45 minutes last night after supper practicing semaphore. We sure are
busy all the time. One day we spent half the afternoon heaving rock.
This morning the second section was detailed to shovel about five ton of
coal into the basement. Once more, it’s a gay life. Well I must wash the
stains out of some handkerchiefs so I can return them to the fellows in
the morning so will have to quit. I will write as often as I can because
I really like to write to you and I want you to write as much as you
can, though I know you, too, will be pretty busy now.

Don’t let those dreams bother you. My heart is too full of good warm
love for you to allow the slightest thought of coldness. Well good night
little girlie. Gee, I wish I could say that in front of your house. But
it won’t be long. When I watched the Officers Reserve training at
bayonet fighting, I couldn’t help but feel that Uncle Sam is going to
hand the Dutch a prize package.

Yours,

Forrest.