A young recruit's letter home...

This is a letter home to Mum and Dad in Eromanga from a kid who recently joined the Australian Army. (For those not in the know, Eromanga is a small town west of Quilpie in the far South West of Queensland.)


Dear Mum & Dad,

I am well. Hope youse are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army ain't as bad as workin' on the farm - tell them to get in bloody quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don't hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No bloody cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin'!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but its not so bad, coz there's lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing!

At brekky ya get cereal, fruit and eggs but there's no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don't get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are buggered because we've been on a 'route march' - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!!

This one will kill Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin' - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a bloody possum's bum and it don't move and it's not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target - it's a piece of !! You don't even load your own cartridges, they comes in little boxes, and ya don't have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload!

Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it's not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster. Turns out I'm not a bad boxer either and it looks like I'm the best the platoon's got, and I've only been beaten by this one bloke from the Engineers - he's 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I'm only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin' wet, but
I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer.

I can't complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how bloody good it is.

Your loving daughter,

Sheila

The State of Tennessee Archives holds the original letter.


"A Letter to parents

Written by Private Zebulon Hardin in 1917 while at US Army Training Camp,
Camp Breckenridge, Kentucky


Dear Ma and Pa:

Am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Army beats
working for Old Man Minch at the wood mill by a city mile. Tell them to join
up quick before maybe all the places are filled.

I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6
o'clock., but am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all
you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things -- no hogs
to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically
nothing. You got to shave, but it is not bad in warm water. Some of the city
boys laughed when I was doing my morning prayers --
but I just remembered Jesus said to turn the other cheek so I did.

My night time praying was so good some of them decided to join in too. Now
it has been some weeks and we have a regular bunch of us and I lead them in
some good words. We got two boys from New York and they are Jewish boys and
on Friday nights they put this little hat on their head and tell us all
stories from the Old Testament, so it is like a history lesson too. Their
praying is in Bible Language, Hebrew, and it is right interesting to hear
it. Oh, tell Parson that their Bibles dont have the Words of Jesus in it, it
is just the Old Testament and it reads backwards, that is from the back to
the front. One of the boys, Private Marvin Fineberg, says that they went to
special school after regular school to learn to read Hebrew and that it goes
backwards from english. Whee ... looks like hen scratching to me, but they
ain't bad folks after all. They are Right With the Lord that's for sure.

Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon,etc.,
but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, beef, ham steak, pie and regular food
like momma's fried okra. But tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit between
two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till
noon, when you get fed again. Then we get fed again at night time. Almost
like they are fattening us up. And those boys at our table in the "mess
hall" are like a family now, we take turns saying Grace and everything which
I think most of them didn't do before the US Army and our table. But I told
them that I could not break the bread before giving Thanks, so they did it
with me.

It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much. We go on "root marches,"
which, the Sgt. says, are long walks to harden us up. If he thinks so, it is
not my place to tell him different. A "root march" is about as far as to our
mailbox at home down to school. Then the city guys all get sore feet and we
ride back in those automobile waggons. The country is nice, but awful flat I
didn't know Kenn. had any flat places. The Sgt. is like a schoolteacher. He
nags some. The Capt. is like the school master. Cols. and Gens. just ride
around and frown. They don't bother you none. They give speeches about "the
kaiser's and the huns" and that we got to help out the english and the
french. I expect that the germans are going to awful upset when we get
there. We got two boys here from germantown up near nashville that their
granddaddy came over from that part of the world (germany) and they are
fixing to have at them and teach them old cousins of theirs a lesson. I
imagine that the french folks will be eternally grateful as will those
english even if we told them where to get off back in 1776.

This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting Silver
Dollars and won a medal for shooting. I don't know why. Ever time I shoot
this one day shooting exercise they give me a brand new Silver Dollar. The
bull's-eye is near as big as a squirrel and don't move. And it ain't
shooting at you, like those Martin boys at home. All you got to do is lie
there all comfortable and hit it, you don't even load your own cartridges.
They come in boxes. The rifle they give us is one made in Springfield, up in
Illinois, where that Smith gal moved to when she married the yankee boy last
year. Now look at this! It shoots five times without reloading using a bolt
action!

I sure had some funning with a couple of yankee boys from Kansas. They were
kind of making fun of me when I told them about living here in Tennessee and
how the hills were all full of my cousins and so forth and so on. Anyway,
they asks me what I learned in school. Well, Miss Jenkins at the school
house would have been right happy. I told them that I would bet them one of
my Silver Dollars that they can't tell me the words to the Declaration of
Independence. One of the other boys got the dictionary from the barracks and
we set to reciting. Well, After I won that Silver Dollar, they asks "how
about the Star Spangle Banner -- do you know it?" I told them One Silver
Dollar for each part of it. They didn't know what I was talking about, "each
part" so I went ahead and sang all of the Four Verses. Well, then it came to
the Bible. I am going to ask Parson to forgive me for this because I was
greedy for those Silver Dollars. They asked verses from the Old and the New
Books and who did what when and where and so forth and so on. After I got
all the Silver Dollars the boys had, well, they just gathered around and
slapped my back. That fellow Fineberg and his friend laughed and laughed
and said that if I were one of their people I could win a prize at thier
Ya-shiver School too.

Well, I got to close, it is getting time when they turn out the lights here
in the barrack -- did I tell you that they have the Electricity Lamps here?
Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join this US Army before other
fellows get onto this setup and come stampeding in.

Your loving son,

Zeb

P.S. Speaking of shooting, enclosed is a post office order of $200 for the
barn roof and ma's teeth. The city boys play with dice, but not very good at
all."

-----------------------------------------

Historian's Note: Corporal Zebulon Hardin was killed at the Battle of the
Somme while leading his squad on a mission to capture a German machine gun
nest.



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:c

I've seen several versions over the years including an Irish one, but I thought this Aussie one was topical.

Allan Sherman's popular song 'Hello Muddah, hello Fadduh' is said to be a parody of the original story - though based on the US summer camp scene rather than any war.