A nineteen-year-old private named Reynold Thomas, writing to his mother, confessed what happened when he pulled her photo out of his pocket and mused on his life back home: “[All] of a sudden I was conscious of your picture becoming blurred, and finally I could not see it at all. The tears were coming, and I burst out crying loudly and souly. I was homesick, homesick for the first time in my life.” Thomas’s sentiments were not uncommon. Never before had so many young American men been sent to serve in a foreign land for so long. And that loneliness and sense of distance became all the more excruciating when soldiers received word from loved ones in the States that something truly terrible—or, absolutely wonderful—had occurred in the family. Few, however, were hit with both at once. Serving in France, Harry Bott received a letter from his father relating two dramatic events from their home in Provo, Utah—news that would be overwhelming under any circumstances, but especially so to a young soldier separated from his family by thousands of miles of ocean. (Connie was Bott’s sister-in-law, Olive was his wife, and Louise, alluded to but not mentioned by name, was Bott’s stepmother. His own mother had died when he was a boy.)
Dear Son
be strong and have faith in the future and rest assured that all has been done that could be done you have a fine little Baby Girl she is 5 days old to day and is doing well and she will be waiting for you when you return but your dear wife has passed to the other side to day.
Dear Boy it is sad news—but remember God’s Will not ours to be done she did not die from the effects of childbirth but the flu was the cause now Dear Boy be brave and remember the Baby will want your care and attention when you come back again Uncle Herman also lost his wife 2 weeks ago from the same cause she was only 16 hours—
oh my dear Boy can hardly write you this sad news—I saw Bishop Buttle and told him he said he would take me out in his car he will no doubt be at the funeral—it has not been arranged for as yet my wife has got a severe cold she can not go there Connie can not go either on account of her Baby there has been and is now lots of People taken away from the same cause we would have sent you a cable but we had no assurance that it would reach you
Well Harry rest assured everything will be looked after in the best possible manner it can be done we all sympathize with you and all yours and Olive’s Friends condole with you in this sad hour may God bless you and keep you strong and well and all will be well
I must close I will write more again in a few days The Girls and wife send you their Love and Sympathy in which I do too may God give you strength to bear your burden is my prayer for you
from your Father
Bott’s wife had died from the “Spanish Flu,” as it was known, an influenza pandemic of epic proportions; in 1918 and 1919 it claimed the lives of over 500,000 Americans in the States and tens of millions of people around the world. Although 43,000 U.S. soldiers overseas died from the flu, Bott, himself was spared. But he would not see his baby daughter or be able to visit his wife’s grave until he returned home from the war in 1919.