CC Ballou – BERTHA BALLOU LETTERS

Pivet was killed. Glenn Wavis he is also thought killed.

To Bertha from C.C. Ballou – April 1918 (Approx.)

Headquarters 19th Division  (U.S. ARMY)
Camp Dodge, Iowa

[Note: Camp Dodge was the scene of a notable event in U.S. racial history around this time. Three African-American conscripts were hanged for the rape of a white woman. According to one historian: “the event was a tragic culmination of an experiment in race relations that had begun with high hopes. The vast majority of African-American leaders, most notably W. E. B. Du Bois, had made a calculated decision to support World War I as a quid pro quo for possible racial advancement. If African-American troops trained and fought alongside white troops, they reasoned, there would be cause to hope that African Americans could be integrated into American society after the war.” About C.C. Ballou, the author writes that “At Camp Funston he ordered Negro troops not to seek to integrate establishments off base. After a soldier attempted to integrate a movie theater in the nearby town of Fort Riley, General Ballou condemned the effort as a distraction from the central purpose of winning the war.”]

Letter from Ida B. Wells to President Wilson attacking Ballou’s decision:

My dear Bertha,

_______ _______ told me that Sherman White is dead in France, by suicide. He also thought Faris was killed, but I think that is probably not true. Pivet was killed. Glen Davis he is also thought killed. I hope it is not true. Please remember one Lucy Whithall and the _____. Tell them all that I honestly meant to call, but I guess old age prevented it.

How are the Newcomers getting along? I am sorely sorry Henry has to go away. You will miss him. When I get a house that can be comfortably _____, and seem to have some prospect permanency, I want to get the family together again, in so far as schools will permit, but I fear that will not be soon. At any rate, I shall hope for a month’s leave in the spring if you all stay in Washington.

Nothing doing in buying bonds here, but I hear they are selling in _____ at 92, rather hard on those who have to sell. The future is not bright. The whole world is in a ferment.

Your loving old dad.

The number of women in mourning in France is appalling

EDITOR’S PICK

To Bertha from C.C. Ballou – June 19, 1918

[Note: C.C. Ballou commanded the 92d Division – an African American unit – in France during World War I. A transport ship for the U.S. Navy in World War II was named after him (the USS General C. C. Ballou (AP-157))]

Headquarters Ninety Second Division

My dear Bertha,

I am at rest for a minute. Have found various old friends – Edie, Dave, Stanley, and others that you don’t know. Expect to move on in a day or two. You get more and more accurate war news in Washington than we do here. My two brigade commanders arrived today and are with me. Get very good food. It tastes deliciously cooked. Think I will _____ up a French chef as I don’t like soldier cooks very much, especially colored ones. You would be reminded here of paintings you have seen of peasants of Brittany – white caps, wooden doors, and coarse Celtic faces, of course I refer to the women. I heard a rather good _____ apropos of Anne of Brittany. I had said I merely knew of her existence but nothing of her history and was told that she was a very lively lady and had as many husbands as there are bathtubs in Brest, a city of 90,000. I took this to mean quite some husbands but not an excessive number of bathtubs. The number of women in mourning in France is appalling and brings a realization of what a horrid thing Germany has done in causing war.

Officers of the “Buffalos,” 92d Division, in France, 1918

My mind keeps getting pretty closely at home, in spite of the newness of things – newness to me of old things around me. I see you all in the little homes, all but Senn, ____ _____ at West Point where I trust he will make a better record in every way than his dad did. I ran against the Professor of Language today. He graduated a year ahead of me, had not seen me since ’85 and _____ me. Some stunt to keep one’s Cadet looks for thirty-three years and now I must close for there is little news one knows, and less that one can write.

Of course you must not speculate out loud as to where we are going to be located. Just think as little as possible of disagreeable things and don’t worry. If you hear startling stories, take them with a grain of salt.

Love to all,

Your loving old dad.

I wrote Mamma in route. Of course you will give _____ ______ that I am well and _____ when you get my letters.

Some of his cockiness is being taken out of him all right

To Bertha from C.C. Ballou – July 28, 1918

A.P.O. 776 

My dear Bertha,

Your letter received. Glad to head that you were all well and comfortable. But reports from _____ indicate that your cool weather was passed. I hope you have paid Senn [Note: Her brother] a visit. You couldn’t see much of Senn of course, but the poor cuss seemed very much in need of a bit of bracing up. I know the feeling. I fear that some of his past misdeeds are being resurrected at the Academy [Note: West Point military academy] , but don’t know. At any rate, some of his cockiness is being taken out of him all right. I hope you received the little souvenir I sent you when I first landed. Also that Sally got her cap. You may not recognize the old chap in the enclosed photo, standing on the left, your right, of the bald headed duck in civilian dress. On his right is a French General. We were saluting our National Air on July 14th, the French “Independence Day.”

I am well, and believe I am doing fairly good work. Glad you are less bored by Mrs. Miller. I received a note from Miss Magruder telling me she has at least recovered “serial No. 770,” I hope she is content. Please write as often as you can and tell me all the news.

Love to Mamma and Sally. Address, “Arm. Ep. Forces, A.P.O. 766, via U.M. City.” That P.O. will not change unless I go to some other command. It is our number, wherever we may be in France.

Your loving dad.

Dear Bertha,
I am sure you will excuse my having opened this. There was none for me. Hope you are feeling pretty well and having a nice time. I sent Reba’s letter along, too.

Mother

It is the twilight of Kings and Emperors

To Bertha from C.C. Ballou – October 27, 1918

[Note: He is unaware that his daughter Reba died four days earlier.]

My dear Specks,

Are you up today? I received the telegram ordering me to organize the 92nd Division. I wired Mamma and left Camp Dodge without a regret. I am much more comfortable here than I was doing last October.

I received your letter postcard October 3rd today and will at once mail Sally a pocketbook like the one _____ Bertha took Mamma. General Pétain gave me several little cupcakes, including these two ladies articles, a cigarette case, a jack knife and a pipe. [Note: Pétain would later become the head of Vichy France]. I don’t expect to command the 6th corps very long, as I fancy it will be thought that the 92nd _____ me worse than the corps does. In fact, the 92nd is likely to prove a hindrance to my advancement rather than a help.

I am well, have a good appetite, a good French Chef, and plenty to eat. Also, a very comfortable bed to sleep in. The big guns are booming tonight, but that is so much a matter of course that it has ceased to be a novelty, as have the attacks of dozens of anti-aircraft guns on the enemy’s planes or our own. I have never yet seem an airplane combat, though many have taken place on our front. In one our aviator got the _____. We found two officers in the wreck, a cavalry man and an artillery man, and the next day when the debris was moved a third of officer was found under it.

Everybody you know in the division is well. One of my War College classmates is my corps Chief of Staff. The war is not over yet by any means but I think Austria is crumbling. Turkey is bound to knock under soon. Austria will, I think, go to pieces. Charles will be the last Hapsburg Emperor and perhaps Wilhelm will be the last of the Hohenzollerns. It is the twilight of Kings and Emperors.

Charles I of Austria (1887 – 1922) was indeed the last ruler of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

_____ these are wonderful days. Old John Bull is, as always, coming in strong on the homestretch. For bulldog tenacity, he can’t be beaten. The 92nd has not done anything very noteworthy, but it keeps on going. I have no idea where _____ is now. It is a big army that we now have ______ _____, more than two million, and one can’t keep track of people. Though constantly running into them.

I saw today in a magazine the photos of practically of all of the corps and Division Commanders of last summer except mine. Some old ones, in Captain’s uniforms of years and years ago. A motley crowd. I hope the Corcoran will prove more satisfactory this year. Don’t suppose Senn will get back to the Point [Note: West Point military academy], but still hope for the best. My letter to General Ireland was last card. The rest depends on Senn.

Love to all.

Your loving old dad.

Poor Sal! Her suffering is as poignant as her nature is intense

EDITOR’S PICK

To Bertha from C.C. Ballou – November 5, 1918

My dear Bertha:

Senn’s cable reached me at 11:30 am today, and I know what sad hearts are in our home tonight. It is useless to write of it. I don’t know who is hardest hit. We all know how dear she was to us, yet never knew it as well as now. My hear goes out in sympathy to each of you in turn.

I think of Mamma and of all the love and happiness she felt in our first _____ one, and all ____ can she lavish on it. And I know that her heart is now _____ from this loss. (…) And poor Senn. He never dreamed that he could lose Reba, and I am sure he is now realizing the first real deep sorrow of his life.

And Sally – we all remember how she mourned when Reba first left home. Poor Sal! Her suffering is as poignant as her nature is intense.

Among us all Mamma alone will have none of those bitter regrets because of things done, or left undone. Always faithful, patient, loving, kind. What wouldn’t I give tonight to be able to feel that I had been the same! But I don’t think she remembered my harshness and my impatience. She realized that she shared my nature and forgave it all. My poor baby girl, and I can never see her again.

At one point today, an hour and a half after this cable came, I was at my post of observation and stood there during two hours of fierce fire from a hundred cannons. It was a Godsend in a way, yet I nearly forgot what was going on.

But I will continue to work and fight, and in many ways I am more fortunate than you who are at home. Do not worry about me. I only wish I could comfort you who are at home. There are months of heartache for us all, yet we are of the many. France is a land of heartaches. A house of mourning – and our own land is being deeply wounded. We must bear our part, and do it ____ _____as the others.

(…)

Her life was , in a sense, full and complete, in that she had known the best that life has of joy and happiness, and except for the final parting, none of life’s great sorrows – none of its bitterness. She was good and true. May her example and her memory remain with us as an inspiration, and may time assuage the pain.

It is hard to write. You know how I feel for each and every one of you. You and Mamma have the hardest part, for you will have least distraction.

Your loving dad.

[Note: Report of her death in Oakland Tribune, Oct. 23, 1918]

The 1918 Spanish Influenza Pandemic-Colonel Hunter’s Wife Grip Victim

BERKELEY, Oct. 23- Broken with grief over the death of his wife, which occurred yesterday afternoon from influenza, Lieutenant Colonel George B. Hunter, commandant of the School of Military Aeronautics at the University of California, will seem immediate transfer to active service in France to forget his sorrow on the field of battle.

Colonel Hunter left last night with the body of his wife for West Point, where services will be held at the army cemetery at the military academy. Should his request for transfer to France be granted, it is probably that he will not return to Berkeley.

Mrs. Hunter’s death occurred at the family home, 1536 Le Roy avenue, after a two weeks’ illness of influenza followed by pneumonia. She was 30 years old and was born at Fort Sam Houston, Texas. All of Mrs. Hunter’s life was spent in army environment, her father, Major General C. C. Ballou, being a prominent army officer and now in command of the 52d division of American troops in France. Mrs. Hunter was a graduate of Randolph Macon College, Virginia.