Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family

Jon Bouman to the Bouman Family

Bouman, Jon Anthony, 1873-1958

WWP23106

1921 September 1

Letter from Jon Bouman to his family.

Gift of William C. and Evelina Suhler

Germany--History--1918-1933

Correspondence

Berlin, Germany

Rachel Dark

Denise Montgomery

English

PROOFREADING

Evelina Suhler is the granddaughter of Jon Anthony Bouman and inherited the family collection of his letters from the years of World War I. She and her husband gave the letters to the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library & Museum in 2013.

Sept 1, 1921

Dearest;

Sitting once again in the vast and pompous hall of the Adlon, looking at the crowd of fatnecked profiteers (perhaps I am doing them an injustice) it seems as though I hadn’t been away for as long as a twelvemonth. There in the bar, thronged as ever before with American correspondents who consume incredible quantities of liquor until told by their doctors that they must “go on the water wagon” if they value their innards. On my table lies a printed card now, advising not only to leave no money or jewelry about, but “it is urgently recommended to leave nothing except under lock and key.” From this may be gathered that there is no improvement in a certain direction.

But I had better start at the beginning. The passage was fair; a bit choppy crossing, but easy along the coast on both sides, so I got some sleep. I drew cabin no. 13. At Flushing and all stations beyond, flags were all flying from all public buildings to celebrate the queen’s birthday, Aug. 31 which made the aspect of towns &c quite gay. In the early morning hours, troops of cyclists on all roads and clusters of them waiting at all level crossings as the train passed. So we rumbled on, I alone in my compartment. There were very few people going through to Berlin and the Dutch travellers gradually dropped off, so that there were only 3 cars left when we reached the frontier station of Goch, from which I sent you a postcard. Afterwards the train gradually lengthened again and it was here that my misfortune happened. In the hurry and excitement when giving some advice to a young Englishwoman bound for Hamburg who was having bad money foisted on her, I forgot my hat in the dining car and when I went back to fetch it I found that the car had been coupled off and another one substituted. Gone was my hat! and a new one too! I got the conductor to telegraph back from the next station, but I am afraid I shall never see that hat again. A member of the French military mission who was then with me in the compartment, very kindly lent me his travelling cap; a weird affair with buttons, which made me look like a fifth-rate racing tout and thus I reached Berlin. Enderis was on the platform to meet me, and greeted me effusively. He is looking rather thin, obviously in need of a holiday, but he has got to the stage that he is too nervous to go away for fear things might happen; I know the feeling. Easterling is also here, he has had a holiday at the seaside, and I don’t see there is so much work about; of course you can imagine work if you worry over it; which is Enderis’ misfortune. Of course he is very conscientious and painstaking and I wouldn’t like to belittle his efforts, but unless something decisive happens, the world isn’t bothering overmuch about what Herr X or Herr Z thinks.

I also met Moloney and Josten today, both very cheery; Moloney takes life much more easily than Enderis and never worries a bit. He says he does, but the Irish twinkle in his eyes doesn’t bear it out.

So this afternoon, nothing having been heard of my hat, I was in the necessity of buying another German lid; just what I wanted to avoid! I want to go out into the Tiergarten and kick myself hard. Of course I had to restore the cap to my amiable Frenchman at the French Consulate. Enderis thinks it quite possible the hat may come back in about a week; as it would have to pass through a whole series of formalities. However – I’ve got a new hat, so that’s that.

Cyril Brown (I haven’t seen the Mrs. yet) jokingly said that as I had arrived, nothing was going to happen. This was confirmed by Davidson of the Daily Chronicle who had come from Vienna and who complains that things don’t happen when he goes expecting them to happen. This is the sort of talk that enlivens the cocktail hour – or hours. I am told Wilcox is here too and I have seen Von Wiegand and some others.

About the travelling again – to my disappointment I found the direct car to Berlin and the dining car were both German, and the Dutch guards are shocked at the dirtiness of them. Nothing is being done to them; the sunblinds are like filthy dish clouts; the seats are dirty too; there is no soap and no towels and no floor covering. First class is like a pretty bad third in England; fearfully neglected. The meals on the train however weren’t so bad; they were actually cheaper than what is obtainable in Berlin of the same class of food. At the Adlon a plain breakfast with 2 eggs now costs 23 marks instead of 14 last year. My new hat cost 250 marks, or 16s/6d at the present rate of exchange, which would be a fair London price. But few Germans can afford pound 12.10._ for a hat. One sees some rum species of head gear about. Enderis offered me one of his but they sank over my ears – no good.

I have to get acclimatized again – having forgotten many names, numbers of tram services &c. The country looks very well and prosperous agriculturally speaking. Enderis says the people are now better fed, which I can believe. Salaries and wages for manual workers have risen tremendously – the intellectual middle class workers of the lower class are the sufferers, as elsewhere, having no means to enforce claims for more. Banks are prosperous, and are building extensions &c. There is a wave of wild speculation, and what the end will be I know not.

With much love to all the dubbies, as ever
I cashed enclosed check for pound 1 for Easterling Your loving, Jack
Will you put it thru your a/c & let me know if O.K.

Letter

Bouman Family