Letters detail a mother's concern in long-ago war
There is perhaps no greater burden for a mother than to have her children put in harm’s way, especially during times of war. The worry and anxiety must at times be excruciating for these mothers; I can only imagine.
War correspondence has changed considerably through the ages. Today, communication is a computer click away, and soldiers often can see their loved ones via Skype during their down time. But once upon a time, handwritten, long-awaited letters were the only thing that kept some mothers and soldiers from despair.
Some time ago I was given a copy of the letters exchanged between three brothers and their mother during the Spanish-American War in 1898-99. Roy Porter discovered the discarded letters at the old Whitefish city dump in 1989 and turned them in to the Stumptown Historical Society.
I was enthralled by the correspondence and the snapshot in time the letters provide.
The three Shoaf boys served during the conflict in 1898 between Spain and the United States over Cuban independence that ended with America defeating the Spaniards. Randall and Jim fought in the Philippines while John worked at Camp Thomas in Chattanooga, Tenn.
Their parents, Henry and Harriet Shoaf, moved to Whitefish in 1904 just as the town was being founded.
All three sons dutifully wrote to their mother during their time overseas and stateside. Randall, or “Ran,” wrote the most detailed accounts of battle, sparing his mother no details about the horror:
“Richard James is not expected to live,” Ran wrote on April 28, 1898. “He was shot in the back and the bullet ranged upwards and came out his mouth knocking out two teeth ... that was the hardest fight the regiment was ever in. The bullets were as thick as a hard hail storm...”
Jim often wrote about the more mundane details of war, reassuring his mother at one point that “I have been as well as I ever was. I just came back from being weighed and weigh 175 lbs.” The brothers also sent a portion of their military pay home to their mother.
Ran and Jim spent time together during the war, while their other brother John joined the military effort some time later. In a joint letter, Ran and Jim tell their mother “now you must not worry about us. It will be a long time before you get another letter because it will be 12 days before we see any land at all and then you can’t tell when the letter will get through...”
Harriet Shoaf’s letters to her sons are especially endearing and at times typical of any mother’s well-meaning advice for her children. In a July 14, 1898, letter to John, shortly after he had joined the war, she wrote: “I am sorry I did not have you take a dark shirt and another suit of under clothes. Put on your white sweater without an undershirt and go without drawers until you can wash yours out. Be sure when you wash your under clothes to pour boiling water over them after you have washed them out in soap suds.”
Then she encourages John to “write me a good letter. Take time. If you don’t have time all one sitting, try again ... be a good true boy and a good soldier. Don’t grumble about your surroundings. Be just as happy and enjoy yourself all you can under the circumstances. Be obedient and kind ... Sleep all you can anytime. Boys need lots of sleep. Read a chapter in your Bible every day and keep in good company. I am very anxious about you and yet I do not worry ... God bless and keep you safe from harm. Mother.”
All three brothers survived the war, though Jim was shot in the knee. Jim worked for the railroad after the war; Ran became a barber in Whitefish.
These letters are a testament to the universal themes of war and families. The very last sentence of the very last letter from Harriet to her “dear children” sums up her feelings after all was said and done: “When I think of it, I hardly know how you [boys] stood it as well as you did, although I said very little. I thought a very great deal. Lots of love from Mother.”
Features editor Lynnette Hintze may be reached at 758-4421 or by email at lhintze@dailyinterlake.com.