{"id":390,"date":"2015-07-26T23:51:36","date_gmt":"2015-07-26T23:51:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/?page_id=390"},"modified":"2016-01-29T16:00:37","modified_gmt":"2016-01-29T16:00:37","slug":"berriman-transcriptions","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/stories\/letters-from-over-there-2\/berriman-transcriptions\/","title":{"rendered":"George W. Berriman Transcriptions"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Berriman\"<\/a>
Lieutenant George W. Berriman<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

June 17, 1918.<\/p>\n

This is the last letter you will receive from me for a long time\u00a0due to a military movement.\u00a0Last night as we were going to bed it started to rain and has\u00a0been cold and rainy all day to-day. The roof of our shack managed to\u00a0leak just over one of my shoes and this morning it was overflooding.<\/p>\n

All of us (the officers) decided bed was the best place we could be in, for our stove (a hole in the ground covered with tin) was flooded\u00a0and we had to go without breakfast. We managed a dinner of cornbread,\u00a0turnips, and turnip-greens, but supper- – – well, it looks dubious.<\/p>\n

It is so cold to-day that I am sitting in my mackinaw (I just\u00a0received my bedding role day before yesterday) and trying to absorb\u00a0all the heat that a lone candle can \u201cput out\u201d. I am through with\u00a0patrol for a while and very thankful, although I hated to stop without\u00a0ever getting a prisoner. But I feel that my duty was more than done\u00a0for I know we killed over three of them and they never killed a man of\u00a0my patrol.<\/p>\n

Sunday, June 30, 1918- – -4p.m.<\/p>\n

I am nearly all in due to two hikes we have just had. The former\u00a0was 30 kilometres in length and took from 9 p.m. till 6.30 a.m. and\u00a0the latter was of 20 kilos and took from 9 till 2.45 a.m. We are now\u00a0in the \u201cbig show\u201d and I guess we\u2019ll learn a little about war. All that\u00a0I hope is that we all receive the \u201ccurtain call.\u201d<\/p>\n

I am all puffed up\u00a0now due to my platoon\u2019s excellent record on the hike. I only had two\u00a0men drop out and they had been marked \u201cquarters\u201d on the sick report\u00a0the morning of the day we left. I was pretty well all in this morning\u00a0myself due to hardly any sleep during our march, carrying tired men\u2019s\u00a0packs for them, and looking after my duties.<\/p>\n

I would much rather fight\u00a0this war up in the lines than behind them, for up there your hours\u00a0may be hard but you\u2019re at least settled for a week or so. It is so\u00a0warm here now that we can obtain \u201cswims\u201d in the rivers around us\u00a0every \u00a0day. It sure makes one feel better and another thing: the\u00a0dug-outs don\u2019t smell like they used to.<\/p>\n

– – – – -another thing that may interest you is the fact that I\u00a0always hum to myself while patrolling and most of the time the songs\u00a0are our old Canada favorites.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A. E. \u00a0F.,\u00a0July 18, 1918.<\/p>\n

Mrs. W. W. Berriman and Family,\u00a0Tampa, Florida.<\/p>\n

My Friends,<\/p>\n

To me this is one of the hardest things I have ever done, and\u00a0being a perfect stranger to you, it makes it still harder for me to\u00a0summon courage enough to try and express my deep sympathy for you and\u00a0your family.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Berriman, I was very fond of your son, in fact I loved\u00a0him as if he were a kid brother, and quoting from Shakespeare,\u00a0\u201cI came\u00a0not here to bury George, but to praise him. He was my friend, faithful\u00a0and just to me.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

I feel all in and am slightly downhearted tonight, sitting\u00a0here in my dugout about thirty feet beneath the ground; the reason, I\u00a0have lost a friend, and good friends are hard to find.\u00a0Memory carries me back to a little town in Northern France,\u00a0when he first joined the Company. And he was such a boy, always ready\u00a0for fight or frolic.\u00a0I was only five years his senior, but to me he was always\u00a0the \u201cKid.\u201d His nickname for me was \u201cDad,\u201d he always said I reminded him of\u00a0his father by my ways and actions.<\/p>\n

Many an evening in the past winter have we spent together,\u00a0talking of things in the past, College days, sports, home and our families.\u00a0The \u201cKid\u201d was very fond of his family, and as the days slipped\u00a0by, I felt as though I knew his mother and father. Their pictures were\u00a0always placed in some prominent part of his room, and he was never tired\u00a0of looking, and talking about them.<\/p>\n

Time drifted on. We were ordered away from our old front\u00a0and came here; that was two weeks ago today.\u00a0Really, I can not express the intensity of the bombardment which the\u00a0Germans put over on us. It was a perfect hail of high explosive shells,\u00a0falling down like rain. The ground rocked from the concussion, and the\u00a0night was almost turned into day from the flash of those guns, spitting out\u00a0their death dealing messages.\u00a0This continued for eleven hours – but not for him. About six\u00a0o\u2019clock this same morning one of those high explosive shells fell in\u00a0the trench where he was standing and – – well the \u201cKid\u201d never knew what\u00a0struck him.<\/p>\n

He was not afraid, and he died like a soldier, his face towards the\u00a0enemy performing his duty till the last; also he was not alone, for many a\u00a0mother\u2019s son gave his life for his country that same memorial morning.\u00a0If it is willed that that I shall pay the supreme sacrifice, I hope that\u00a0it will be in the same way, so there will be no suffering.\u00a0His death was not in vain, the Germans have been thrown back with\u00a0terrific losses; from our front line trenches you can see there dead piled\u00a0up on the ground across which they tried to advance. They have gained\u00a0nothing.<\/p>\n

In a little pine grove which a few days ago brought back memories\u00a0of my own dear Southland, but which is now torn and rent by the ravages of\u00a0war, there still stands a few trees. Beneath these, we, his brother\u00a0officers, have put the \u201cKid.\u201d<\/p>\n

There he sleeps, surrounded by his fallen comrades until this battle is over, when they will be removed, and you, his family, will be notified.\u00a0I was with him until a few hours before he was killed, and it was\u00a0his wish that I should write you. He would have done the same for me, if\u00a0it had been reversed.<\/p>\n

If there is anything that I can do for you over here, I will feel\u00a0honored if you will only request it. Will assure you that it will receive\u00a0my entire attention.\u00a0You – his family, have my deepest sympathy and respect.\u00a0To your son, I pay homage. He was my friend. He died honorably.\u00a0You should feel honored that such a son gave his life for his country.\u00a0It is useless and silly to ask you not to grieve, but my feelings\u00a0can be better expressed in a few verses which you will pardon me for repeating.\u00a0It\u2019s title, \u201cA Woman Speaks.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Help me, O God, to keep before my eyes<\/em>
\n The larger visions of this War; to be<\/em>
\n Inspired each day by noble thoughts that rise,<\/em>
\n Of duty, honor, country and of Thee,<\/em>
\n Lest I forget, and think of only one<\/em>
\n Who goes from me, to see his duty done!<\/em><\/p>\n

Help me to think of \u00a0War as one vast Whole<\/em>
\n Of human effort, struggling towards the right,<\/em>
\n Ever advancing nearer to the goal<\/em>
\n Of freedom from the iron rule of might,<\/em>
\n Lest I forget, and in my sorrow see<\/em>
\n Only the face of him who goes from me.<\/em><\/p>\n

Let me remember on the fateful day<\/em>
\n When women send their men across the sea,<\/em>
\n That with brave smiles on trembling lips they say:<\/em>
\n \u201cGod Bless, and bring you safely back to me!:<\/em>
\n Help me, O God, in that black hour, I pray,<\/em>
\n Lest I forget to be as brave as they!<\/em><\/p>\n

I have tried to express my feelings; if I have failed, please\u00a0forgive me and remember me as your friend.
\nVery truly yours,
\nHenry L. Griggs, \u00a01st. Lt. 167 Inf.,\u00a0A E F,\u00a0\u00a0Via N.Y.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

June 17, 1918. This is the last letter you will receive from me for a long time\u00a0due to a military movement.\u00a0Last night as we were going to bed it started to rain and has\u00a0been cold and rainy all day to-day. The roof of our shack managed to\u00a0leak just over one of my shoes and this … George W. Berriman Transcriptions<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17,"featured_media":0,"parent":384,"menu_order":1,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"full-width-page.php","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-390","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/390","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/17"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=390"}],"version-history":[{"count":15,"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/390\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2687,"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/390\/revisions\/2687"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/384"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/library.brown.edu\/create\/browninthegreatwar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=390"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}