Minnie writes me about some of her students bringing water to school because they don’t trust the well water.
Addressed to Mr. Ward C. Griffing, 25th Company, 164th Depot Brigade, Camp Funston, Kansas
Wednesday Evening 8:45 P.M. [October 2, 1918]
I didn’t hear from you today. Maybe I will tomorrow, I haven’t seen anything in the paper about the Camp being quarantined. You seem to think lately that once a week is often enough to write me, don’t you? It was a week ago tomorrow evening that you wrote to me last.
It looked rather cloudy this afternoon and sprinkled a little. I’m afraid it will rain Friday and I’m sure planning on getting home and seeing you too.
Ward, do you still have those seeds in small bottles? I have time now and have things started well enough so I can fix that up now. I don’t have to teach agriculture, but I am supposed to teach some nature study for the whole school. I believe I have a pretty good plan that will be of interest to the children and me too.
Three of the Klein children brought a little bucket of water from home to drink today. They don’t think the water at school house is good. I can’t for the life of me see anything wrong with the water up there. I think they are trying to work up a little excitement again.
The Klein children didn’t bring their 25 cents apiece for the Red Cross. I asked Zelphia when she was going to bring it and she said it was hard to tell and then laughed. So I suppose I’ll have to pay for them. I don’t want to but they are awfully poor so I expect I’ll half to pay it.
I’m dizzy headed tonight. It was so warm and nice after supper, I went out and sat in the porch swing and kept it going. I haven’t been swinging in one for so long that it made me dizzy and I still feel it.
I’m sure anxious to see you Sunday. I hope you won’t have to drill or anything so you can come home. I don’t feel now like I did when you first went in. I’m getting used to it and don’t care so much as long as you are well and alright. At first I just thought I couldn’t stand it. I kept thinking, even if I did try not to, that maybe you wouldn’t come back and I don’t think that at all now. I just feel sure that God will keep care of you and bring you back safe. So why should I make myself miserable. I felt like a funeral for awhile and ten years older than I am. Everything seemed gloomy. It will seem like an awfully long time till you get to come home again to stay, but I ought to be able to stand that if you just get back alright.
I wish Kate could feel about [her boyfriend's] going over there [to Europe] and coming back the way I do about you. I believe she would be lots happier than she is. Maybe she thinks she has to stew around like that to let people know how much she cares for him. But I don’t believe she would. It doesn’t seem as if she thinks of any power greater than earthly power will bring him home. I wouldn’t want to tell others because they might feel lots worse if I didn’t just put all my trust in God.
I read in tonight’s paper that there are eleven hundred cases of that influenza at Camp Funston. It certainly seems to be spreading.
Only one more letter to write, then I’ll be at home. My, I do hope you will get to come over. If you can’t get off during the day, can’t you come Saturday or Sunday evening? I wouldn’t be there Sunday evening tho unless I knew you were coming, then I would stay and come up Monday morning.
You are certainly getting a long stay at the Detention Camp – longer than I’ve ever known any of the boys to stay that are well. But I guess it’s a good thing while that disease is so bad at Camp Funston.
Good night dear boy, -- Minnie G. Frey
P.S. Sure planning on seeing you now mighty soon. And I hope there’s not anymore disappointments in store for us.