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Saturday, June 7 W e woke up early and prepared our knapsacks. Our joy is indescribable. If death were as sweet as this, we would all want it. Soon after breakfast we climbed to the upper deck to be the first to see land. It must have been ten when we set eyes on the first islands that guard the entrance to the city and bay of Boston. We will never forget the beautiful reception the cradle of liberty of the United States of America prepared for us. Tears of joy came streaming down, as no doubt they would have if an invading despot had set up camp in the land where our loved ones wait for us. Here we are, after subjecting ourselves to the suffering of the most horrific war that has befallen humanity. Standing steady and tall! There were so many small passenger boats coming out to greet us! All of them were decorated with the national colors. Many of them had orchestras or other kinds of musical bands. Everything was joyful and colorful. What a contrast to our departure from New York when we were ordered to close every single skylight and retire to our cabins until we were far from the coast! No one bid us farewell when we were departing to face death. Now everyone is greeting us. Why? The reason is that the hardship weighs heavily on us, but also because we have restored peace and safeguarded prosperity for the entire nation. The navy inspector came in a boat to conduct the inspection the law requires . The steamships came next. All of them sounded their greetings. One of the boats brought gifts from the YMCA, and staff members lobbed them to the soldiers on the upper deck. We finally arrived at the major dock and disembarked. The Red Cross provided free telegrams for our loved ones. We also sent postcards. We were unable to make note of so many other moving scenes. The people How Boston Receives us 451 My Personal Diary 452 of Boston released thousands or millions of small and colorful balloons as we approached the dock. Even the heavens thought of us, despite the fact that many of us did not even thank God for his Divine Goodness. As soon as we reached the dock, a strong rain drenched us and changed everything. It was impossible to overlook the colorful view of the balloons against a gray sky and to hear the continuous whistling from the factories, ships, and other machines. We accepted all these greetings with profound gratitude. We went from our ship to a train that was to transport us to Camp Devens . The weather was unbearably hot, as if threatening to rain. We witnessed the worse of it in Boston, especially along the railroad line. Later, we passed by Concord and Junction until we reached Ayer, on the edge of a rural area. As soon as we marched on the open terrain, a heavy downpour soaked and chilled us. We marched in the middle of the rain and a storm, but this did not matter, “if we had escaped the bullets, why could we not bear a heavy rain.” We are now in the America of Liberty and Justice. We made our beds in the barracks and ate our supper in the middle of all the commotion and the busy talk one finds among soldiers about to be discharged. At twelve midnight, we signed our first discharge documents. We cannot sleep. Sunday, June 8 It was cool in the morning. Everything was very beautiful, all because we were in the bosom of our country. We bathed, took a physical examination, ate a good breakfast, and had an even better lunch. They know how to eat in these parts. We washed our clothes after the meal and later fell into formation and received our mail. I searched everywhere for Company G. They are giving eight-hour passes to visit Boston. The mail I received today included El Latino-Americano, which brought me news from home. While at Camp Devens, we visited the Robbins Pond Club and other well-known places in the small town of Ayer. Monday, June 9 We could not secure passes to go to Boston because the person who issued them—his excellency—took one for himself and left for the famous American city. What does he care, the war has ended and if a soldier has problems with this, he should wise up. We...

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