Saturday, November 2, 1918


This short letter reflects Harold's boredom at being confined to the ship. He doesn't specify why in this letter, but it seems they are being quarantined. Harold mentions one sailor sick with “bad cold or Flu as they call it now.” It's important to remember that the 1918 Influenza Pandemic had first hit California in September.









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 Nov 2, 1918 Noon.



My Darling Mother: -

 Well I am in the launch tied up along side our home so will write and tell you the latest.

 One of the fellows that went ashore last night came back to the dock and we went in to get him with the launch and the officers of the Sub Base wouldn’t let him come back to the ship so we had to come back to the ship and get his hammock and a few things that he wanted as they put him in the isolation camp so now Mr. Thompson won’t let any one else go ashore can you beat that. Last night I shaved, took a bath, washed my underwear and was already for to night but now we can’t go. I would like to know how long they are going to keep us on board. We don’t do any work but wash deck and stand watches and ride around in the launch, she is rolling now and I am trying to write straight, hard luck. Gee all we get to eat now is turkey and chicken every day, gee they treat us mean on board, they should give us rice and beans. I don’t think, I am ashamed to look a bean in the face.

 Well I guess I’ll have to write to you every night until I can get ashore but don’t worry about me as I gained three pounds since we landed here, I weigh 163 now.

 They took another fellow over yesterday with a bad cold or Flu as they call it now.

 I wrote a long letter to sis last night as you said she was down sick, I thought she was on her way home so I didn’t write to her before.

 Well Mother Dear it is time to make another trip in so will mail this now but I don’t suppose you will get it before to-morrow morning. I won’t write again until to-morrow night, so don’t forget. Gee it seems good to get mail a day old.

 If you can and will you can send me a carton of Lucky Strikes (cigarettes) as I am almost out of Emma’s. I guess that is about all I need. I have $10.00 in cash but haven’t received any pay since the big one at Seattle. I don’t [k]now when we will get payed.

 Will close for now.

  With all my Love to my

  Dear Mother.

  Harold Lampshire

I guess I’ll stay home to-night and smoke our pipe.




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