(Addressed to Mrs. James McCoy, Trevlac, Ind., Brown Co.; 3 cent stamp, postmarked Taylor Branch, Louisville, KY, May 6, 1918, YMCA stationery)

3rd Company, 1st Tr. Bn.
159th Depot Brigade
Camp Taylor, Kentucky

Dear Folks:

Will write you a few lines to let you know I am still having a high time. We changed residences Friday so notice change of company and battalion. I wrote you some this afternoon but failed to locate it when I got ready to mail it.

I got a card from Ira today. He and Mr. G. went to the city Wednesday to put it in to grind but I don't think it will do him any good. I can do more for myself than Ira can when I see it is absolutely necessary. But we are having a good time now. There is only one fellow lost his nerve in our company and that is a fuzzy faced Boone County boy by the name of Shellburn from Lebanon, Indiana. He hasn't spoke for a week, I don't think, and you can see he cries at night. But he will get over being a mama's boy and go home a mama's man.

There are about four in our company smaller than George Prosser. Yet, one real small fellow came in Monday and I thought sure someone's baby had run away. Why, he could stand under Prosser's arm. I saw him come into the YMCA one evening when Prosser and I was there and noticed Prosser sizing him up. So I slips up to Prosser and whispered if he thought he could lick him. Prosser broke into a laugh, threw his shoulders back and head up and strutted down the aisle past him like a turkey gobbler.

Army life goes pretty hard with the city boy, ha! The other morning one big stiff (in the old 20th Co. didn't come along as we moved) from Muncie was sitting on the edge of his cot gapping with his shoes in his hand when the bugle blew for reveille. He banged his No 11's against the floor and yelled "Blankety blank such business." Maybe you think we didn't laugh some at him.

There is only 15 minutes between the time the bugle wakes us till we have to be lined up out in the street at reveille. So a fellow has to lay-to to get one of these uniforms on in time. I never have failed but 9 tenths of them in my company have, and say, they certainly get a calling on, believe me! I never have been called from the ranks but once for a bawling out and that was one for laughing. One of our Brown County boys, Hiram Lawson, got his arbuckles mixed when the Sergeant commanded "halt" and I think got plumb down and stepped on himself. I simply had to laugh a little and I got a worse calling than Lawson did.

Say, hurry up and get them letters started and keep them coming. All the other boys have heard from home. Did you get my clothes? We are in a barracks now with some Kentuckians. A bunch of fine fellows but very few can read or write. I took one fellow's letter writing. I've wrote two for him, one to his girl whose name was Bertha and one to his sister. He came from Henderson, Ky. His name is Noah Gibson.

Well, I must close for the lights go out at 9:30, so be good and answer. If you have one on the road, write another. If you haven't, start one and quick. As ever your son.

Lawrence Mc