Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--Born on July 31, to Mr. and Mrs. Ira Harriman, a son. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--Mrs. John Goin received a letter from her daughter, Mrs. W. L. Patterson of Duqueen, Ark, stating that Mr. Patterson was suffering from typhoid fever and had been taken to the hospital at Texarkana. Pat's many Higbee friends hope to hear soon of his complete recovery. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--A LETTER FROM CARL DUNCAN--R. G. Duncan this week received the following letter from his son, Carl, written under date of June 30, which we are permitted to publish: Dear Dad: Since this is my enlistment anniversary for service in the world 's greatest struggle, I have thought it appropriate to write a letter relating a few experiences I have encountered during the twelve months which have just passed. Like every recruit, I soon learned that I had entered a new world--the military world. The only possession of civil life that has remained with me is the toilet set. Everything else has been left behind, yet at the present writing I have about three times as much as the day I left home. If I should be called to another station I do not know what I would do with all of it. The experience of the past twelve months have been many and in some respects remarkable, since they have been so different from anything I was ever accustomed to. My first training ground was in the school yard of Rosedale (Kansas) High school. I don't suppose they made a "greener" solider than I was during those first few days. The commanding officer might as well have given the commands for execution of the various drill in Chinese. I would have done just as well. I merely followed the man ahead and then often times went astray. From Rosedale we went to Topeka in the latter part of August and remained there until the first of September. We were quartered--perhaps comfortably--in the famous stock barns of the Kansas State Fair Grounds. Luckily for me, I drew a stall--many were in the gangway. It was my first experience of lodging in the "Stock Barn Inn," but I soon learned to make the best of everything in the army. I wore out two perfectly good civilian suits and goodness only known how many rifles of the wooden type. It was three weeks before we were issued our equipment. I got my first dose of guard duty the next night after I reported at Rosedale for duty. They posted me in a lonesome corner of the school yard and I presumed I was to stand out there on that hill and look wise and also scared. I didn't know what I put there for and I don't think the sergeant of the guard knew any more. Anyway, there I stood and walked occasionally, conversing with myself for two whole hours. I didn't have any gun, so I decided that since I was a real (?) soldier doing the guard stunt, I had better arm myself. Accordingly, I filled all my pockets with good size rocks and got a club that would "brain" the best of them. With these dreadful weapons of war I began walking my post in a dilatory manner. My first encounter was a couple of lovers who were endeavoring to select a very appropriate place to carry on their art of love making. It was a pretty late hour for strolling, so I ventured up to the youngsters and managed to get out the first word of the execution of my duty, "Halt!" I know their hair began to stand straight up immediately. Mine did, for should they have continued to march it would have been necessary to have expended some of my deadly ammunition. After they had obeyed my orders to get off the ground in "toot sweet" time, I felt as big as any general after a great victory. Later in the night it began raining and I don't believe it ever rained harder. My guard duty is over now and I am sure I do not regret it. I've had the job once since coming to France. Our two months stay at Camp Mills was full of "squads right" and "right about" during the day and A.W.O. L.'s at night to New York to promenade on Broadway. In every camp we've been in we've had to build it. Camp Mills was a plowed field before the "Rainbow" men went there. We arrived after dark and judging from the distance we walked that night with those packs after getting off the train, it would not have been difficult to have made one believe we were walking across Long Island to the regimental camping ground. We fell in the furrows of the fields and even said some naughty words. It was all in the game, though. We were very amateurish in pitching tents. They were put up any way and every way only to be torn down the next morning to be lined up. It was real sport and we had lots of fun. At 4 o'clock on the morning of October 29th the last of the "Rainbow Division" boarded a Long Island train for an Atlantic port. The Division had been leaving all during the month of October. By 11 o'clock we were on board a German built liner and 9 o'clock the night of the 31st we silently steamed out to sea en route to the theater of war. there was no cheering, no one to see us off. Everything was guarded from the eyes of visitors. I shall never forget my last glimpse of the State of Liberty. It was brilliantly lighted with electric lights and every man aboard seemed to have the same thought-- "When will I see that again?" After two weeks of an uneventful voyage we set anchor in a harbor in France, being in the first 75,000 troops to Europe. We remained on board for another week. There were no docks large enough to land, no preparations made for the receiving of America's big army. It was in the early days, in the days of preparation. Life grew tiresome on board so long. Finally, late in the afternoon of the seventh day in harbor, we disembarked by getting on a rug and going to shore. We marched up the steepest hills and through the dirtiest streets I ever saw to the station. It had been raining all the previous week and the mud was shoe top deep in places. Hogs, cattle and chickens made the streets their home and the odor was like a town hog pen. Once in a while a ray of light could be seen coming from the closed shutters of a building. Aside from these few rays, everything was darkness. The town was dead. The people were at war. Here and there a solitary person walked through a street bundled up in a cloak. No particular attention was paid to the troops. It was the cry of '89-- "LIBERTY, EQUALITY AND FRATERNITY." "It was," again, "the best of times; it was the worst of times." Six hours after disembarkation we entrained on the French train for camp. Yes, we had comfortable Pullmans--side door, thought. We traveled second class. There were no reclining chairs--merely a bench across the width of the car which accommodated our people. Each carriage had four compartments and each compartment afforded room for eight people. The little engine puffed and jerked and strived diligently to get away with its load. It went forward awhile for fourteen hours before we reached our destination--Camp de Coetquidan, Morbihan, France. If you can imagine us riding on a train slightly larger than the one used at the Moberly brick yards, you will have a pretty good picture of the 117 Ammunition Train traveling in France. Coetquidan was formerly occupied by French soldiers and of course we had to Americanize it. It has now grown to be quite a camp. So much for this bit of what is now ancient history. Since writing you the last time, we have moved the office to a large stone building. it is so much more convenient than it was before. The clerical work is all done in a large room in the rear of the building away from visitors. The instructional matter is prepared and filed in a room for that purpose and is no longer confused with other departments of the work. One of the clerks and myself occupy a room about 14X20 in the same building for living quarters. It is certainly very convenient and home like. The school occupies twenty-one buildings now and instructs several thousand troops daily. The health of the men is excellent and one thing especially I want to impress upon the home people--the American army in France is living a better moral life than the American civilian. The men of the A. E. F. are coming home better and stronger for having endured the horrors of war. We have profited by the experiences of the other armies and those mistakes have been corrected. I shall close my letter by relating a story told me recently. In one of the villages near the American front in Flanders there were two soldiers in a hay loft shooting craps and using such language as would blister the skin of the Price of Egypt. They were seemingly "roughnecks." the next day those same men were traveling along the road under pack and while stopping in another village the little children ran out to see the men in khaki from America. It was their first sight of the American soldiers. they pinned flowers on them and cheered them. These "roughnecks" noticed two who seemed despondent and who were hungry. The "toughs" divided their rations with them and gave them sous. They were taken to the home of these two children and there found the mother sick in bed. Her husband was at the front. the sick woman got out of bed, hobbled across the floor, drew aside a curtain in one corner of the room and exposed to view the dead body of her youngest child. those same "roughnecks," seeing the condition of this family, went out in the village, bought her several days' supply of food and gave her money with which to buy more. They took the body of the child, prepared it for burial and buried it. When the time came these "roughnecks" proved their worth. It shows the real spirit of American in the worst of us. There are thousands of people in need of help in France and every dollar you contribute to Liberty bonds, Red Cross, Y. M. C. A. or whatever war fund it may happen to be, you are helping to crush German militarism, and therefore bettering the condition of the victim of the German invaders. It is the Christian attitude, to help those in need. The man or woman who does not in some way contribute something (be it buying bonds, donating to the various war funds, saving food, avoiding the buying of constantly changing style of clothes, preventing waste in all its forms of what not) towards winning this war for the freedom of the world is a slacker and should be branded as such the rest of his life. With regards to all, CARL Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--W. I. WILLIAMS AGAIN CITY MARSHAL--W. I. Williams, who has been working for the Katy at Sedalia and Hannibal since May, is again back on the job as marshal of Higbee, to the satisfaction, we believe, of 90 per cent of our citizens, returning to work Friday of last week. If having been amply demonstrated that the office could not be filled at $40 per month, to which amount the council cut the salary last April on account of depleted revenue, the council at a recent meeting agreed to allow $10 per months for extra work, and an additional among of $25 per month was easily raised among the business men and others, which amount will be collected by Joe W. Burton, city collector. Since April G. W. Blansett, Alvin Mobley and Clarence Feland have filled the office, each acting more as a matter of accommodation than on account of the salary. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--J. W. MARSHALL RESIGNS--Jas. W. Marshall, who has been with the Northern Central Coal Co as chief auditor for the past ten years, tendered his resignation last week. Owing to a scarcity of capable men the company has not been able to fill his place, and until one can be found, Mr. Marshall will remain on the job. As early as possible following his release, Mr. Marshall will move to his farm near Madison and devote his time to farming and cattle raising. He has been building up a herd of polled Angus cattle for several years and now has one of the most promising herds in the state which will put him well to the top among Angus breeders and make him scads of money besides. No finer gentleman than Mr. Marshall ever lived among us, and he and his most estimable wife will be given up with the deepest regret by a wide circle of friends. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--It was reported last week that Henry Powell, who recently removed to Marshall, was going to move back to Higbee, and when we saw him here Friday we were sure the rumor was true. We are sorry to have to report that there was nothing to it. Mr. Powell is more than delighted with Marshall and his garage is doing a land office business. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--Our deepest sympathy goes out to Frank Rothwell, editor of the Moberly Monitor, on the death of his beloved wife, which occurred on the 1st. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--FORMER STURGEON MAN DIES FROM AUTOMOBILE ACCIDENT--A. W. Canada, a Joplin mine operator died at Chanute, Kansas, on the 1st as a result of an automobile accident the day before in which R. A. Darrow, a Kansas city oil man, was instantly killed, and Chas. A. Edwards, a Joplin real estate man, was fatally injured. The party were on their way to some oil property owned by Canada when their car struck a rut in the road and overturned. Canada moved to Joplin several years ago from Sturgeon and struck it rich in lead and zinc mining, and was rated as a millionaire. He was 52 years old, and is survived by his widow and two children. He was an uncle of H. C. and Will Boyd of this place. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--About the happiest negro in these United States is "Buster" Richardson, who left with the other Randolph county colored boys for Camp Funston the other day, and who returned yesterday, having been rejected on account of physical disability. And he was just as hungry as he was happy when he got home, for he left Funston without a cent in his pocket and didn't get anything to eat until he reached Higbee. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--Charles Harris, son of Mr. and Mrs. John Harris, left Monday for Gary, Ind, where he has a good position in a big steel plant. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--A daughter was born on the 5th to Mr. and Mrs. Andrew J. Percival of Victor, Colo. Mrs. Percival will be remembered by Higbee folks as Miss Hazel Giles. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--Jas. Ware and Chas. Lay of near Burton lost a lot of hay Tuesday by a fire started by a Katy engine. Several others in the same neighborhood suffered similar losses the same day, but we were unable to learn their names or the extent of the damage sustained. (Kathy's notes: there were earlier articles that stated that the fires were caused by sparks thrown from the train, either from the boilers themselves, or from the friction of the metal wheels against the rails.) Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--Frank Powell celebrated his 14th birthday Wednesday evening, having as his guests twenty girls and twenty boys of about his own age. It is needless to add that all thoroughly enjoyed the occasion. Among other things as a remembrance of the occasion Frank received a handsome camera. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--Joe Alert, a Belgian, and a former employee of the Northern Central Coal. Co., who went to St. Louis two months ago for medical treatment, died in Barnes Hospital, that city, on the 3rd. The body arrived here Tuesday and was taken to the undertaking parlors of Clarence Feland and interment made that afternoon in the city cemetery. Friday, 9 August, 1918, Vol 32, No 17--The story comes to this office that the first fellow that David Blake met in France was a son of Ben Patton, col., of this city. Said that Patton was so glad to see someone back from the old home community in America that he ran up and grabbed and hugged him and cried for joy. Patton was taken in the draft from this county.--Armstrong Herald. Kathy Bowlin, Additions, corrections, comments welcome.