tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58073218535796052122024-03-19T01:10:15.914-07:00The Ima Hogg BlogVirginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.comBlogger214125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-63279230247894026442024-03-11T07:58:00.000-07:002024-03-11T07:58:29.717-07:00<p><span> </span> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 24px;">While we celebrate 100 years of Memorial Park, this year, we would do well to remember that the site of Camp Logan, the World War I military training camp, along with additional acreage, was bought in 1923 and 1924 by Houston’s Hogg family to preserve as a park. In an arrangement with the city of Houston, and with a donation of $50,000 by Will, Mike, and Ima Hogg, Memorial Park, named to honor the soldiers who fought in World War I, opened as a public park in 1925. At 1,500 acres it is one of the largest urban parks in the nation. Houstonians can thank the Hoggs for Memorial Park. </span></p>Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-24755891274647526432024-03-07T07:20:00.000-08:002024-03-07T07:20:15.029-08:00<p><span style="font-size: large;">Ima Hogg (1882-1975) was good at keeping secrets. After lo, these many years, hers are still safe. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Here's an excerpt from <i>Grand Tours and the Great War: Ima Hogg's Diaries, 1907-1918: </i> </span></p><p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">Here, on the last day of February 1908 (February 29, a Leap Year), Ima Hogg’s Berlin diary, which she began on January 1, ends abruptly. The little black leather book in with its brass lock has many unused pages.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Why did she suddenly stop keeping a diary? She lived at 22 Mommsenstrasse (except for part of the summer) until October 1908, when she sailed for home.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> What did she do from March to October? Surviving documents are few: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> On March 9 and 13 she went to concerts at two of her favorite venues <span class="msoIns" style="color: teal; text-decoration: underline;"><ins cite="mailto:Office%202004%20Test%20Drive%20User" datetime="2018-10-13T13:57">in Berlin</ins></span>: “Mozart Saal,” March 9; “Philharmonie,” March 13. There are programs with these dates in her scrapbook, but she did not record who, if anyone, accompanied her. <o:p></o:p></span></p>Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-18259179498101271552023-01-05T14:22:00.000-08:002023-01-05T14:22:51.928-08:00Ima Hogg's Secret<p>In 1926, Agatha Christie, age 36, dropped out of public view. Why she did, and what she did during that time, have long remained a mystery</p><p>In 1918, Ima Hogg, age 36, suffered a serious loss that put her under medical care for nearly two years. Did she lose the love of her life in World War I? No one will ever know. </p><p>Both women changed their lives after that crisis, and reinvented themselves. </p><p>Clues to Ima's secret abound in her diaries. Draw your own conclusions when you read </p><p><i>GRAND TOURS AND THE GREAT WAR: IMA HOGG'S DIARIES, 1907-2018. </i></p><p>Just published a few months ago by Texas A&M Press. Available on Amazon. </p>Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-67290714122390142482022-12-03T07:50:00.000-08:002022-12-03T07:50:04.192-08:00<p> <i>Grand Tours and the Great War: Ima Hogg's Diaries, 1907-1918. </i>On Amazon. A fine holiday gift for anybody who likes music, art, travel, Europe, and secret romances. Ima was bright, talented, and good at keeping secrets. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiloEfzJjjhEoixVwb-gZs4e_uis3NgDFsSV6g1YklyrrAjoOJP1RxfFDGBUlsP6r0T-u8wJi5s0GzkqkDP3DbHmu9BlbiZAAN9kOYtlyKlm9gKJ_2L-IUlsMIdAVNCgZY7fktLiS064bx1qTMjtyg2IlPAWHv7Zpu_WdObsT_022bmqrQB2eHFh4mo" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="436" data-original-width="295" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiloEfzJjjhEoixVwb-gZs4e_uis3NgDFsSV6g1YklyrrAjoOJP1RxfFDGBUlsP6r0T-u8wJi5s0GzkqkDP3DbHmu9BlbiZAAN9kOYtlyKlm9gKJ_2L-IUlsMIdAVNCgZY7fktLiS064bx1qTMjtyg2IlPAWHv7Zpu_WdObsT_022bmqrQB2eHFh4mo" width="162" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-76259241991720574342022-11-19T13:51:00.002-08:002022-11-19T13:53:31.331-08:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeOx2jLdmzj_lO2RwMQRJezGMg6h6DESaabN4enYmt6_jvud0_BMTDDlnTr7Xjb66Wip6WRi3bPJHMpr03SXBssYj9-EM4s7ROQxyQizOYBag0Zo5hJ8QzMEMEaqCqVCyDSzM6ZCHGi79f-xtus_P4th8rCAdxWv2n4HXFdViObgBOsTG_Ir-3Pxr/s436/Ima%20dL._AC_UY436_QL65_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="436" data-original-width="295" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeOx2jLdmzj_lO2RwMQRJezGMg6h6DESaabN4enYmt6_jvud0_BMTDDlnTr7Xjb66Wip6WRi3bPJHMpr03SXBssYj9-EM4s7ROQxyQizOYBag0Zo5hJ8QzMEMEaqCqVCyDSzM6ZCHGi79f-xtus_P4th8rCAdxWv2n4HXFdViObgBOsTG_Ir-3Pxr/s320/Ima%20dL._AC_UY436_QL65_.jpg" width="217" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Ima's diaries are now in print! Available on Amazon. </p><p>Did she have a secret romance in Germany? Very, very likely! </p>Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-50252974797192668382022-07-06T09:57:00.000-07:002022-07-06T09:57:06.661-07:00Happy Birthday, Ima!<p><span style="font-size: large;">Ima Hogg was born on July 10, 1882. That's 140 years ago this year.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She's a Texas legend, and her memory lives on. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In October 2022 there will be a new book about her:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Grand Tours and the Great War: Ima Hogg's Diaries, 1907-1918, </i>edited, with commentary by Virginia Bernhard and Roswitha Wagner.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ima Hogg kept many secrets--but her diaries offer fascinating clues about her youthful adventures, and perhaps a romance that changed her life. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You can pre-order it on Amazon. </span></p>Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-4067103694007921562020-07-10T07:37:00.000-07:002020-07-10T07:37:45.116-07:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<b>Ima Hogg was born July 10, 1882. Today is her birthday. </b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;"><b>Some day, post-Covid, there will be a new book about her: </b></span></span></div>
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<b>"The Ima Hogg Diaries: Love and The Great War, 1907-1918" <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Ima Hogg (1882-1975), famous in Texas folklore, cultural history, and philanthropy, left diaries of her youthful travels, including her days in Germany as World War I began. </div>
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They show<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Ima Hogg as a young woman seeking to find herself, traveling in Europe, spending a year in Germany, and perhaps losing the love of her life in World War I.</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> </span></div>
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<o:p> My good friend, Rosi Wagner (who did all the German translation) and I transcribed and edited the diaries and tried to make sense of the mysteries. </o:p></div>
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<o:p>Meanwhile, </o:p></div>
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<o:p>Happy Birthday, Ima. </o:p></div>
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Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-2089947360054163022019-05-25T07:23:00.000-07:002019-05-25T07:23:17.721-07:00Remember Memorial Park<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 24px;">On Memorial Day weekend, Houstonians can thank the Hoggs for Memorial Park. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 24px;">In an arrangement with the city of Houston, and with a donation of $50,000 by Will, Mike, and Ima Hogg, Memorial Park, named to honor the soldiers who fought in World War I, opened as a public park in 1925. At 1,500 acres it is one of the largest urban parks in the nation.</span></div>
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<span class="" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="" style="font-family: "times new roman";">The land was once the site of Camp Logan, the World War I military training camp. Along with additional acreage, was bought in 1923 and 1924 by Houston’s Hogg family to preserve as a park. <o:p class=""></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span class="" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="" style="font-family: "times new roman";">Ima's brother Mike (on the left, in the cover below) fought on the Western Front from August to November 1918.</span></span><br />
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-91994019914377416532018-12-24T08:11:00.000-08:002018-12-24T08:11:02.693-08:00Clabber for Breakfast! <div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">Ima Hogg, who died in 1975, contributed this item to a cookbook in 1971: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">Mrs. James S. Hogg (1891-1895)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">Breakfast Menu <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">(Courtesy of her daughter, Miss Ima Hogg).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">[There was no menu, but this note:] "a typical breakfast in 1890, and always served promptly at 7:00 a.m." began with "fresh clabber (for the children) or Oatmeal with thick cream" (We always had two Hereford cows and a calf)." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">--The Old Bakery Bake Book, published by the Heritage Guild of Heritage Society of Austin in 1971, p. 197.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">Maybe the clabber was why she lived to age 93. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Merry Christmas!</span></b><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-8979180024044292742018-11-10T11:53:00.000-08:002018-11-10T11:53:34.188-08:00One Hundred Years Ago, an Armistice<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> On November 11, 1918, at 11 a.m., (the eleventh day and the eleventh hour) a cease-fire was declared in the trenches of World War I. The carnage that had cost over eight and a half million lives world-wide was over. This weekend we remember them, we honor them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> When Captain Mike Hogg came home, he and his brother Will and his sister Ima established Houston’s Memorial Park in honor of those who died in the Great War. It opened in 1925, and is still one of the largest urban parks in the nation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> On November 14, Captain Mike Hogg, Company D, lst Battalion, 180<sup>th</sup>Infantry Brigade, 360<sup>th</sup>Regiment, 90<sup>th</sup>Division, wrote to his sister about the fateful morning of November 11. He was still at the front. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 16pt;">I am now only a few kilometers from where I was when we got the almost unbelievable news that there was to be a suspension of all hostilities at eleven o’clock. The Germans were only a few yards away and we were preparing to make a</span></i><span style="font-size: 16pt;">desperate<i>attack that morning. I had already given up all idea of coming through. You should have seen the place where we spent the night—and such a night! Everybody and everything was frozen stiff.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 16pt;">We got the news at about ten-thirty. There was absolutely no demonstration. We could not make a sign or move, because of danger. Shells were still falling. At eleven, we heard the German bugles blow and the men shout. We then saw them get right up from in front of us and “beat it” back. All firing ceased. MY! But it was great. We were too tired and chilled, though, to realize what great luck we and the world in general were in. We have been through a great deal of fighting and I suppose are very lucky. . . . <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">They called it the Great War. No one in 1918 could imagine a greater one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-40108336279198373162018-10-13T07:29:00.001-07:002018-10-13T07:29:26.241-07:00Good spirits, even in the trenches<div class="MsoEndnoteText" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;">Mike Hogg’s letter to Will, from the Western Front, October 1, 1918:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Well, to go back--I have learned to sympathize with wildcats, coons, and all hunted animals. I’ll never run them again. You know I have to leave my hole to look things over once in a while and then your wild animal stunt--that is, if it is a pretty clear day. About the time you think all is well, old Fritz has spied you from a “sausage” and here they come, whiz, bang, zip, zam! You run like hell for about a hundred (that is, when you have your first few experiences), then stop, wipe your brow, laugh, cuss the Hun, and then move contentedly on--about that time, sure enough Hell breaks loose all around you. You leap for cover, which might be only a pile of brush, a roll of barbed wire, or anything; you hug the ground and flatten out flatter than anything in the world; Fritz splashes them for a time and then all is quiet again. How the Hell they missed you, you can’t tell, because you have merely been playing the ostrich. Now, take it from me, from this time <u>out</u> there is no slow movement. These old-time wildcat movements ensue and remain till back to your beautiful dugout (with its friendly fleas and everything else thrown in) you scramble--and when there, you are as happy as a fool.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> We had a good time down here last night. My <u>runners </u>have a fine quartet and how they did sing! We had the latest from Broadway down to our war songs. Some wanted to drop in a few sentimentals but they did not get far. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">A battlefront is no place for sentimentality. </span></span></div>
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Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-34572088753003639752018-09-29T08:09:00.002-07:002018-09-29T08:09:57.677-07:00A brief lull before the big battle<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;">During a brief “period of stabilization” after the battle of St. Mihiel, Mike Hogg found time to write to Ima, describing with cheerful insouciance what had been a harrowing combat experience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> </span></b><i><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Monday, September 23rd<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> You should see me right now. Here I sit, just after having taken the most glorious bath I have ever had. Not that it was up to date, or that I had a good tub, or that I had lots of water. It was a bath--that is all. I am in an old, shell-torn town. The room here is about the only thing left of the house that is whole. The rest has been blown away by shells. This room, however, is great. It can’t rain in here. All my officers (four of us) are here. You are wondering, no doubt, why that bath was so wonderful. Well, it is this way: I am just back from that big American “push”--<u>St. Mihiel</u>. We were in it up to our eyes. Almost two weeks, we dug, marched, fought and scrambled around in something I know was worse than Hell itself. But here we are, as happy as if we all had good sense --men and all.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Captain Hogg and his Company D would soon be in the trenches again, in the greatest single battle in American history: the Meuse-Argonne offensive, with a battlefront 75 miles long, and involving more than a million U.S. soldiers, from September 26 until the armistice of November 11. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-15042968563232906992018-09-15T11:14:00.000-07:002018-09-15T11:14:15.898-07:00Mike Hogg in Combat, September 1918<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> On the night of September 11, 1918, the American First Army under General John J. Pershing prepared for the battle for St. Mihiel, a town on the Meuse River south of the Argonne Forest. It was the key to a vital railroad controlled by the Germans, and must be taken by Allies before a main assault on German lines could begin. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">THE ATTACK ON SEPTEMBER 12<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Promptly at five o'clock [a.m.] the irregular belching of the guns was replaced by the rhythmic roll of the 75's, shooting as though in cadence. The barrage had begun — the signal that the supreme moment had come! Simultaneously, the assault troops of the four regiments [one of them was Captain Mike Hogg’s] climbed from the trenches and took up their place in a continuous line that stretched across the divisional front, and formed a part of the 23-kilometer [about 14 miles long] wave of men in khaki that engulfed the entire salient. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> There was no hesitating, no holding back, in all that long line as it moved uniformly across No Man's Land. On the other hand, such was the impetuosity of the supporting troops that they were with difficulty kept at their proper distance to the rear of the front wave, and restrained from joining their comrades on the fighting line.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> No one who has ever taken a look at No Man's Land on this front, and seen that twisting, treacherous maze of wire and the hundreds of pitfalls of ancient trenches, has failed to ask how it was possible for human beings to cross such obstacles in the face of hostile fire. French staff officers, sent by Marshal Foch, </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">the Allied Generalissimo, gasped in astonishment when they heard of the facility with which American doughboys had surmounted such seemingly unconquerable difficulties. In fact, this achievement will always remain one of the most amazing features of the entire operation; and the modest heroes who accomplished it, on reviewing this land of desolation, themselves wondered just how they did it. But it is sufficient to say that these men from the Southwest were natives of barbed wire’s native states!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">--excerpt from George Wythe, <i>History of the 90<sup>th</sup>Division, </i>in Virginia Bernhard, <i>The Smell of War: Three Americans in the Trenches of World War I</i>. </span><u><span style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 14pt;">Available from Texas A&M University Press or Amazon.com.<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> The Battle of St. Mihiel was only the beginning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-61504946171430698322018-07-14T07:14:00.000-07:002018-07-14T07:14:27.173-07:00Bastille Day in France, 1918<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 18pt;">On Bastille Day 1918, Captain Mike Hogg wrote to his brother Will in Houston:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Somewhere in France<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Sunday, July 14, 1918<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;">Dear Brother:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Today is France’s Independence Day. It is at this minute only six-thirty a.m.-- however, not so early for our billet. We have done many things before this. We are now shaved up, “polished” up, cleaned up, eaten up, dressed up, keyed up, exercised up, and are ready to enjoy and observe this holiday. At seven-thirty this morning, my Company has an inter-platoon baseball game; much rivalry and much interest will be had. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> My greatest desire is that this war end as speedily as possible. One is so “hand-tied” by these censorship rules that it is almost impossible to get “anywhere” with what you would like to say. It is really quite exasperating. I could write almost a book of what I would like to say, all of which cannot pass my own censorship. We have made a clean village out of a very filthy one. This is always the rule wherever our troops may be. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> We have a town crier who announces all the news. He is a queer looking animal. Whenever he has any news or makes an announcement, he dresses up in his best clothes, a derby, wooden shoes, and an old, slick, tight, once-black, but now green, suit. He has a snare drum, which he beats most furiously up and down the street before he makes his news known. Everyone runs out to hear what he has to say.. . . I have reached the time for the ball game. I have to umpire, so must say goodbye.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> With love - <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Mike.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Captain Hogg would not be home until April 1919. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-1360808048419793982018-06-30T07:38:00.000-07:002018-06-30T07:38:34.445-07:00A Fourth of July in France, 1918<div class="MsoEndnoteText" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Captain Mike Hogg and his men soon arrived at the small village of Rouvres-sur-Aube, on the Aube River in northeastern France, just behind the battle lines of the Western Front. Here they would begin training in earnest for combat just a few kilometers away. He wrote to Ima: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Somewhere in France<br /> Monday, July 1, 1918<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Dear Sis:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> I believe this red stuff is wine that I am writing with. It smells like it. My company just arrived at this place at 2 p.m. today. We made a long, hard hike, the kind you read about, to get here--sixteen miles from the station where we detrained. All men carried heavy packs, which, as you know, weigh about seventy pounds. Ours weighed more, because we had extra stuff to carry. However, not one man fell out. Our march was fine. . . .<br /> It is late spring here and everything is green. The whole country is alive with flowers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> I am trying to learn this <u>lingo</u>. Am doing very well at present. Can say few things and understand more. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> This band of ours is a great institution. When marching through villages, it always plays. You have no idea the impression it makes. Many of the villages have never had a band anywhere near and others have not had one for years. It has afforded us lots of fun and pleasure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> We had a very interesting <u>Fourth </u>here. We took our companies over to the next town, where there is a wonderful chateau, and had a regular American field day on the lawn in front of the chateau.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "New York"; font-size: 16pt;"> Our work out here is just as hard as </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16pt;">as we can stand. Many hours per day. All are doing it, though, and there seems to be nothing hurt by it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Well I will close; it is now nine-thirty p.m. It will soon be so dark I can’t see without a light, and I have only a candle.<span class="MsoEndnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> With much love - <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Mike<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Mike’s “work” was indeed hard: the 90<sup>th</sup>Division and all other U.S. divisions were training for offensive warfare. General John J. Pershing, commander of the American Expeditionary Force, was readying his troops for battle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-2524962109516345962018-06-23T07:25:00.000-07:002018-06-23T07:25:33.677-07:00Captain Mike Hogg Goes "Over There."<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.33333206176758px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 20pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 20pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 20pt;">In the summer of 1918 Captain Mike Hogg, still at Camp Travis, was eager for overseas action. Meanwhile, he and his men, who prided themselves on “having the best singing regiment in Camp,” were hearing local talent: <i>“These darn fool civilians, who have singing societies, or think they can sing, are always inviting themselves out to sing. . . . If they just knew how much misery they caused the poor men, not to speak of the officers! We have had the</i></span><i><span style="font-size: 20pt;"> </span><u style="font-size: 20pt;">pleasure </u><span style="font-size: 20pt;">of hearing everything in San Antonio croak that even has a semblance of a voice. They come to us as flies go to sugar.”</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 32px;"><span style="font-size: 20pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 20pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 20pt;">In June the men of the 360</span><sup>th </sup><span style="font-size: 20pt;">Regiment left San Antonio by train, at last on their way overseas. An undated note from Mike to his sister Ima reads: “Just got here last night and leaving tonight. . . . No sleep at all last night. Worked all night. . . . Passed right through New York. . . . Will write you every week over there.”</span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20pt;">For more of Mike Hogg’s war adventures, see this blog in the coming weeks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 20pt;">His letters are part of a new WWI book. Look for <i>THE SMELL OF WAR </i>on Amazon.com. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-26940763093122094852018-04-28T13:41:00.000-07:002018-04-28T13:41:47.390-07:00The Smell of War<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><i><span style="font-size: 18pt;">“The war has a smell that clings to everything military, fills the troop-trains, hospitals, and cantonments, and saturates one’s own clothing, a smell compounded of horse, chemicals, sweat, mud, dirt, and human beings</span></i></b><i><span style="font-size: 18pt;">.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Until recently I knew next to nothing about World War I except what I taught to college freshmen in my US history survey. I was a colonial American historian, working mainly in seventeenth-century sources. Then I detoured into the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries with the Hoggs of Texas. When I discovered Mike Hogg’s World War I letters, I knew they had to see print—and then one thing led to another. In the course of editing Mike Hogg’s letters, I came across the “smell of war” quotation by Henry Sheahan and the history of the 90th Division by George Wythe. When I realized that all three of these young men had connections with one small battlefield in the Great War, I knew their stories could be a book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> And now it is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16pt;">Who remembers World War I these days?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-71746404235944279762018-03-31T07:26:00.000-07:002018-03-31T07:26:11.998-07:00An Easter letter from 100 years ago. <div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 18pt;">Mike Hogg, in training at Camp Funston for World War I, wrote to his sister Ima: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;">Easter Sunday, March 31, 1918<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;">Dear Sis: <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> This certainly is a beautiful Easter Sunday.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> I finished the Company Commander’s school Wednesday. It was a most strenuous and interesting course. We learned a great deal about the modern methods that the French and English are using. Another Captain and myself tied for high place on the examination. Pretty good for an old man, eh?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Well, they have torn things to pieces around here. Most all of our beautifully trained men have been sent away. Our regiment is shot to pieces. The officers are all here and it is understood that we will be filled up again, meaning that it will be some time before we get across. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> We had an inspection of the Companies of the Division by General Allen and this Company got a very good report from him.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> I can’t imagine what has become of the sweaters you have shipped. I have heard nothing from this end. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> The fight “over there” is too big a problem for me to even contemplate, however, I will say that it looks at present as though the Allies have received at least a great set-back. You can never tell, of course. The Germans may have bitten off “too large a hunk.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Well, I don’t intend to work so hard for a while. I feel that things have let up a little around here. About week after next, I will try to get down </span></i><span style="font-size: 18pt;">[to Houston]<i>for Sunday again.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Mr. Podsnaps wrote me a note from New Orleans, saying hello, etc. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Goodbye -- with much love - <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> Mike.<span class="MsoEndnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"></span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoEndnoteTextCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-size: 16pt;">Mike teasingly called his brother Will Hogg “Podsnaps” after a stuffy, self-righteous character in Charles Dickens’s 1865 novel, <i>Our Mutual Friend</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoEndnoteText" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-59887646170768868242018-03-10T07:24:00.000-08:002018-03-10T07:24:25.728-08:00"90-Day Wonders"<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> In
the spring of 1917, as World War I dragged on, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ima Hogg and her brothers--Will, Mike, and Tom--followed its
progress with grave concern, but with little thought of American
involvement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, on April 6,
1917, the United States declared war on Germany. About 2 million young men
volunteered to serve in the armed forces; another 2.8 million would be drafted. By May 1917 Mike Hogg, age 31, was among 3,000 Texans in a Reserve Officers’
Training program at Camp Funston in Leon Springs, Texas. Funston was the first
of many </span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">camps hurriedly set up to train officers for
combat. C</span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">ommissioned
as a first lieutenant in the U.S. Army on May 20, 1917, Mike Hogg, along with
many other young men, would undergo three months of rigorous training. </span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;">Those
who succeeded would become known as <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">"90-day
wonders.”</b></span><b><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<div class="MsoEndnoteText">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> Now we </span><span style="font-size: 21.33333396911621px;">know where</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> that expression came from!</span></o:p></b></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-53970618643414719142018-03-03T08:03:00.000-08:002018-03-03T08:03:18.044-08:00Jim Hogg, Cornflakes, and Azaleas<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 45.0pt; text-indent: 45.35pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">On
March 1, 1906, Jim Hogg, who declared he was feeling much better after long
spell of ill health, set out for the Battle Creek Sanitarium in Battle Creek, Michigan,
The sanitarium was a famous one known for its holistic approach to medical
problems. Ima and Will had convinced their father to undergo a thorough medical
examination.<span class="MsoEndnoteReference"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dr. John Harvey Kellogg, the sanitarium’s founder, and his
brother, Will Keith Kellogg, would be better known as the inventors of
whole-grain dry cereals, known as --you guessed it--Kellogg’s Corn Flakes. A
patient at Battle Creek named C.W. Post had already invented Grape-nuts cereal
in 1897, and soon he, too, developed a cornflakes product he called “Elijah’s
Manna” in 1904. It sold much better in 1908, renamed “Post Toasties.” But corn
flakes did not appeal to Jim Hogg, who liked ham and eggs and biscuits for
breakfast. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 45.0pt; text-indent: 45.35pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">With
Ima and Will, Jim Hogg took the train from West Columbia to Houston. They stopped
to spend the night at the home of Frank Jones, his law partner. The Joneses
lived in a handsome mansion at 2116 Travis, and the guests spent a pleasant
evening there on March 2. Hogg was his usual jovial self. He happened to remark
that when he died he wanted no monuments at his grave, but a pecan tree and a
walnut tree, with the nuts given to the “plain people” of Texas. Ima scolded
him for talking of his death, but he assured her that he would be around for
“many years.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 45.0pt; text-indent: 45.35pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">He
died that night. On the morning of March 3, 1906, twenty-one days before his
fifty-fifth birthday, James Stephen Hogg was found dead in his bed at the Jones
residence. He had died of a heart attack in his sleep. It was Ima who found
him. At age thirteen, she had watched her mother die. At age twenty-three, she
found her father dead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">James Stephen Hogg, governor
of Texas from 1891 to 1895, was larger than life—figuratively and literally. He
was the focal point, the fulcrum of an extraordinary family. He was buried in
Austin’s Oakwood Cemetery next to his wife, Sallie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "New York"; font-size: 16pt;">Note: Houston’s historic Azalea Trail, with Ima
Hogg’s home, </span></b><b><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Bayou Bend, as a
featured attraction, is March 2-4 this year.</span></b><!--EndFragment--><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-61076830983461627192017-12-23T07:31:00.000-08:002017-12-23T07:31:20.890-08:00A Wartime Christmas<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">A
hundred years ago in December 1917, Captain Mike Hogg and his 250 men of
Company D, First Battalion, 360<sup>th</sup> Infantry Regiment, 180<sup>th</sup>
Brigade, 90<sup>th</sup> Division, spent the holidays learning how to shoot a
rifle. This account is from a history of
Company D: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .5in;">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span> <b><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The adjustment from civil to army life was a grinding ordeal to say the
least, yet the spirit and cooperation of the men was such that it was evident Company
D would prove of sterling worth when the time to meet the enemy arrived. On December
12<sup>th</sup> the Company marched to the Division Target Range where it
received its first instruction in rifle firing In addition to target practice
problems and maneuvres were carried out each day, and proved interesting as
well as instructive. Classes of instruction in the use of the Browning, Lewis,
Chauchat automatic rifles were also held. The Christmas Holidays were spent at
the range, and the bitter experience of being away from the home fireside on
festive days was an added test to the quality of the men. However, the new
interest held sway. About three weeks were spent at Camp Bullis, then the
Company moved back to its quarters at Travis.”</span></b></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> --“History
of Company D. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Excerpt from my book, <i>The Smell of War: Three Americans in the Trenches of World War I </i>(Texas
A&M Press, 2017). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> Sometime
after Christmas 1917 Mike wrote to Ima that the Red Cross had sent every man in
his regiment a wool “trench sweater,” most of them hand-knitted. He wrote
proudly of “my lieutenants.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> They
would sail for France in June, 1918. In August, they would be in the trenches
of the Western Front. <i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-63790964486810521042017-11-09T12:13:00.000-08:002017-11-09T12:13:31.578-08:0099 Years Ago, an Armistice<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">On
November 11, 1918, at 11 a.m., a cease-fire was declared in the trenches of
World War I. On November 14, Captain Mike Hogg, Company D, lst Battalion, 180<sup>th</sup>
Infantry Brigade, 360<sup>th</sup> Regiment,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>90<sup>th</sup> Division, wrote to his sister.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">. . . I am now only a few kilometers
from where I was when we got the almost unbelievable news that there was to be a
suspension of all hostilities at eleven o’clock. The Germans were only a few yards
away and we were preparing to make a</span></i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"> desperate<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">
attack that morning. I had already given up all idea of coming through. You
should have seen the place where we spent the night—and such a night! Everybody
and everything was frozen stiff.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">We got the news at about ten-thirty.
There was absolutely no demonstration. We could not make a sign or move, because
of danger. Shells were still falling. At eleven, we heard the German bugles blow
and the men shout. We then saw them get right up from in front of us and “beat it”
back. All firing ceased. MY! But it was great. We were too tired and chilled, though,
to realize what great luck we and the world in general were in. We have been through
a great deal of fighting and I suppose are very lucky. . . .<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Raymond came around in his </span></i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">car<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> today, and we had a long and wonderful ride over the great
battlefield. I took him to the very spot where my company and myself were
waiting through the night to “jump off” in the morning.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">He can tell you about my
abode that night. , . .<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">You should see the town we
are in. It is in better shape than most any around here and, at that, there is
not a single house left whole. I am in one of the best and it has three rooms
left. They are only baby rooms. I have a warm fire, just the same, and so have
the men. We have all had a </span></i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">bath <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and have on warm and clean clothes</i>—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">always get hot and good food after a fight.
Sis, if she </i>[the war]<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> had not been
over the day she was, you would have been minus one young brother. You know,
there is a limit to everything, and I had reached mine. . . . No, I have not
written very often, because it has been impossible to write at times. I have
been on the front for almost four months and in places where it was not healthy
to do any writing. . . . The Americans have had the hardest fighting of the war.
You should see this region that we have hacked and carved our way through. It is,
truly, a tragic sight. The last time I wrote you, I was some twenty miles in rear
of where I now am. It is all the same—an enumeration would be a duplication. .
. . <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">With much love—<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Your brother, <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Mike.<span class="MsoEndnoteReference"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">P.S. I am enumerating a few of
the things I saw one day. I am doing it on separate paper, so that if the censor
does not like it, he can take it out.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span class="MsoEndnoteReference"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Here is just an enumeration of
things which I saw one day while we were on a hill in reserve, on the night we went
up to relieve another outfit:<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">A marsh just below the hill,
full of dead horses, torn-up wagons, and cannon. A road just beyond the marsh, winding
up a hill in one direction to where a town once stood, but now nothing but white
bricks mark the place</span></i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in the other direction, the road
stretched as far as the eye could see over almost level country. From the top
of the hill to as far as could be seen, the road was chucked and blocked with
trucks, troops, cannon, horses, ration and munition trains. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">All along the slope of the hill
where I was, torn helmets of Americans and Germans. Fresh American and German graves,
old French graves, pieces of rifles, shreds of uniforms, packs, shoes, grenades,
small holes in the ground all over the side of the hill where men had dug in.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">A railroad track, just this
side of the marsh, all torn to pieces. Old pieces of machine guns and
ammunition belts of Germans, where they had tried to make a stand. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">The top of the hill all
around me covered with what used to be brush, but which was now chewed up by
machine gun bullets and looked as if rats had been eating it. Three large
observation balloons, one of which was brought down by a Boche </span></i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">[Allied slang for “German”].<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> The air alive with aeroplanes. Some were
throwing propaganda, which looked like snow falling. Shells falling and
knocking up the earth every few minutes. Our boys sticking close to the ground;
cook stoves camouflaged and in full blast. Every hill in sight full of American
Infantry or Artillery soldiers; litter-bearers going after someone just hit by
a piece of shell. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">These are a few of the things
I saw from that one spot.</span></i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-prop-change: "Office 2004 Test Drive User" 20171109T1407;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">In 1954
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>November 11 became “Veterans Day” --to
honor the veterans of all our wars. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-60250257842232551512017-11-03T07:35:00.000-07:002017-11-03T07:35:02.442-07:00Sailing "Over There," Summer 1918<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Mike Hogg sailed for France on June
14, 1918, and wrote to his sister from aboard ship the next day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Saturday</i>
[June 15, 1918]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Dear Sis: <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">I thought
that when we got on here, there would be some let-up in our work, but not so.
That seems to be the beginning and ending of everything. However, it is all
right. No one is being hurt by it.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Our
trip, so far, has been ideal. Practically no one has been sick at all and the
water has been as calm as I have ever seen it. I have seen no one who is a bit
uneasy about U-Boats. I have questioned my men and not a one has admitted that
he had the slightest uneasiness. I believe that if one put a torpedo into us,
we would not be a bit alarmed, even then. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
made an almost superhuman “get-away.” Ours was the record, so far. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
wish there were more I could tell you, but it can’t be done. We are all well
and the spirit throughout is wonderful.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With
much love - <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Mike</span>.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></i><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">There was a war on: censorship was
part of it, and so German U-boats (submarines), but Mike Hogg was always
cheerful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-59018348515635361342017-10-14T08:09:00.000-07:002017-10-14T08:09:03.017-07:00October 1917: Captain Mike Hogg describes his command.<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b>On October 7, 1917, Mike's letter to Ima: </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Dear Sis: <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Here
I am, at last, writing you a young letter. I started one several times, but
quit before time.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
is needless to say that I have been busy. Besides having to train my Company, I
have been getting training. We are having French classes and military classes,
one or the other, every night. All of the work there is not nearly so hard as
Funston was. Things are going much easier.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
Company had the first formal guard mount at Camp Travis yesterday. It just
happened to be my day for guard and I was lucky that it was ordered to be
formal. My Company behaved beautifully.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
men of my Company come from East Texas -- Trinity County, Angelina, Walker,
Montgomery, and Polk. I have only one man who is not a full-blooded American.
That is very lucky. Most of the other Companies have Germans, Swedes, Mexicans,
etc.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
Camp is moving along in a wonderfully smooth manner. The Reserve Officers are
doing things as if they had been in harness for years. Our Brigade took a
nine-mile hike the other day and only twenty-one men out of the six or seven
thousand dropped out. I never lost a man.<span class="MsoEndnoteReference"> </span>.
. .The class of men that we are getting is better than that of the regular
army, however, they are not very literate. For instance, there are ten men in
my Company who cannot read nor write, and the average grade is about the fifth.
All of my men, except about eight, are farmers. You never saw a more willing
bunch anywhere. Their spirit is</span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">great. You should have
seen them when they came to me. They looked like scarecrows. Their hair was
long and unkempt. As fast as they came, I had them shaved and their hair cut.
They would not even know themselves. You could not believe that they ever
looked like they have. They are a fine looking bunch. Lots of six-footers. My
barracks is as clean as your music room. Scrub, scrub, scrub, all day long.
That’s what it takes. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
believe we will be here for five or six months yet. Will try to write every
week from now on. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With
much love - <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></i><i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Mike</span></i></div>
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<b>If he did write every week, all of his war letters have not survived. He would be writing to Ima until January 1919.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></i></div>
Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5807321853579605212.post-36473339380844850692017-07-22T08:02:00.001-07:002017-07-22T08:02:31.970-07:00Ima's brother's newsIma's diaries are still in progress. Meanwhile, her brother Mike's WW I letters will be part of my new book, THE SMELL OF WAR: THREEE AMERICANS IN THE TRENCHES OF WORLD WAR I, out in December. More news later.<br />
<br />Virginia Bernhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06933307751217782235noreply@blogger.com0