Saturday 28 July new Orleans 1914
my name is Lucy Denver I am twenty years old I live in new Orleans in 1914 world war one just started and my willie was shipped off to fight. we were just married when this was the first war letter and the few words that it said broke my world. "Dear Mr. William Denver, you have been summoned to train in Washington your train leaves at 1200 hours Monday, July 30 we will wish you safe travels president Woodrow Wilson and commander John J. I started to weep Willie held my head to his chest and repeated it will be okay don't cry love everything will be fine but I could see a tear run down my lovers face.
Sunday 29 July 1914 new Orleans
at church we all prayed to the young soldiers then we prayed for the wives girlfriends and family we all cried for the boys I didn't cry for my willie I didn't cry at all. As I was cooking dinner the last home cooked meal for my willie I burst into tears willie grabbed my hand sat me down on the couch and held me while I shook in hysteria I started crying out why my willie why why-why he kissed the top of my head he started to say don't cry for me my love I will be fine after a while the hysteria stop and I continued making dinner willie suggested going to a restaurant I said no solemnly. Dinner was pork mashed potatoes and carrots and lemonade there was no conversation at the table just the forks scraping against the plates.
Monday, July 30 new Orleans 1914
my willie told me not to cry when we got there. We arrived at the train station it was crowded with wives families and friends crying for their husband's sons and brothers. willie pulled my waist and gave me our last final kiss. I did my best not to cry but as the train pulled away I saw willie wipe a tear. I lost it from there I didn't stay and pray with the others I ran home as fast as I could after slamming the door and curling up in a ball I feel asleep. the floor was cold when I woke up it was five. I wasn't hungry the thought of eating alone was distasteful so I lost my appetite I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
War Letters
Historical FictionThis is a series of letters sent by a young couple that was separated by war inspired by the box of letters I found in my grandma's closet written between her mother and father.
