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| | PVT. SHERMAN J. HOWE
Serial No. 2.044,926
Charlevoix, Mich.
Coming from the 310th Ammunition Train, he joined the Battery in September, 1918.
Private Howe was of a refined, sympathetic nature and possessed the humane and kindly attitude toward others of rare expression in ordinary conditions, but in the army becomes distinctive.
At Pont-a-Mousson he acted as fireman with Private Delude throughout our stay there.
He was the connoisseur of souvenirs, in the opinion of the boys, and would gladly put himself out to get them for others, and in many instances would not charge for them.
In his hours of liberty he spent much time in the Y. M. C. A. building, where he assisted the two young ladies who were canteen workers.
Owing to the long delay in our receiving mails from America, he did not receive word of his mother’s death until long after it had occurred. This bereavement he took very much to heart and wrote some lines expressing his loneliness, as she was the last relative he had in the world.
Following are some stanzas given by him to the editor and versified by the associate editor:
Perhaps ‘twas the word of a comrade
Charmed by the city’s light,
Or youthful whisperings for freedom
Made the call of the world seem bright.
For the lanes of here were ne’er so fair
As the visioned ways of there.
There was always a smile for the rover,
In farewell or welcome it beamed,
For his mother knew that home was home
And yonder not what it seemed.
Certain was she that a call from her heart.
Longing for home to his would impart.
Then came the call to the colors,
And with others he marched away.
Did fear or premonition shade
The smile on her face that day?
To a soldier in France came a message
No home-coming glad was for him,
For Death had stolen his guiding star,
And his home was empty and dim.
Over his life as a shadow must fall
The dull of that hushed recall.
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