Post Hospital A.P.O. 741, 9-5--18.
Lieut. J.W. Foster, A.P.O. 703.

Dear Friend: Wrote to you might before last when Robt. was brought here and put in my care again and then sent you a message last night just after he died. When he was brought here I knew he was not going to last very long but thot might be longer than it was. he had everything that could be gotten for him. He had many friends among the officers and they furnished wine for making egg nogs, bought him oranges and lemons and everything that he wanted that I would allow him to have. The sergeant in charge of the ward both here and at the other place were very good, kind and conscientious men and gave him every attention. He seemed to have confidence in me and I was very sorry to be sent away from him. He was a little delirious then but seemed to realize everything when I told him I was leaving. He never seemed to recognize me after he was brought to this camp. He passed away very quietly about 6:50 last night. I assisted one of the sergeants in dressing the body, put on him the trousers he had as they were good and almost new, got a new blouse, so he was well dressed and his chaplain got the personal effects to take to the C.O. of his company. I do not know exactly what there was. I did not go to the cemetery this afternoon but he was given a military funeral and when they started from here the casket was completely hidden by a large flag.
I am sorry that I was not able to check the course of the disease and help him to a recovery. Will be glad to answer any questions concerning him you may care to ask if I can do so. Chaplain Peterson of Camp Faley A.P.O. 741 might be able to give you the exact location of his grave if you care to have it. Let me hear from you occasionally, yours very truly.
C.C. Kerr, 1st Lieut. M.C.A.P.O. 741.

Euglogy by Rev. Ackman

We are all mourners here this morning. A life of practical godliness, of bright Christian services, the life of a model soldier in every respect, and a life of wonderful brave endurance has come to an end. the loving son of Mr. and Mrs. Allen Foster, who was a helper and a counselor as well, the staunch loyal friend the diligent worker, with open hand, his frank cordiality, his clear insight, his resolute will, has passed from our sight but never from our memory. The empty place in the home can only be filled by Him who has made it empty, and we all pray that He will be near. Every member of the congregation must feel that a strong stay has gone. A wider circle for whom I may presume to speak, mourns the loss of a dear friend; a far wider one, covering the whole country, offers thru my lips this morning affectionate and earnest sympathy to the stricken hearts here today.

Robert Foster was born Sept. 19, 1893, in Fayette county, Taylorsville near Arlington, Iowa, and died at the camp hospital, somewhere in France, Sept. 4, 1918. When he was a year and a half old his parents moved to their present home. He received his early education in the Lake School. In the fall of 1908 he entered the Arlington High School. In the spring of 1912 he graduated with 9 Arlington class mates. Since then he spent most of his time on the home farm, until Dec. 9, 1917. On that day he left Arlington for Chicago, Ill., where he with his close friend Harley Probasco enlisted in the Ordnance Dept. of our Government.

He did not go at the President's call, Just for himself along; He went at the call of democracy, and to protect loved ones at home.

From Chicago Robert and Harley were taken to the Columbus, Ohio, barracks. Dec. 23 they were transferred to Camp Dodge. Here Harley and Robert were separated. His company left Camp Dodge March the 3, 1918 for Camp Merrit. After a week's stay at Camp Merrit he was taken across the ocean and landed at Bordeaux, France. Here he was stationed two weeks when he again was moved to a camp near Bourges. One of the bright spots in Roberts life across the seas the two days he and Harley were privileged to spend together in Harley's travel enroute to Bordeaux, France. Robert always saw the bright side of life, and always sent letters of comfort and good cheer. Even his last letter home was full of hope and sunshine, even tho his strength hardly permitted him to write.
Robert was brought up in God's garden. The finger prints of his home training were every where present. He was not in the garden one week and out the next, but he was kept in it. So naturally he became interested in the flowers and the fruit of the garden, which is the fruit of the spirit, namely, "Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, goodness, gentleness, faith, meekness, self-control" against which there is no law. Thus, God has made Robert's life to shine as the brightness of the firmament. When a boy four years of age he gave his heart to God. Later on under the pastorate of P.N. Dwello he joined the Methodist Episcopal church of this place, Jan. 1, 1905. Of this church he was a very faithful member. And the memory of his life and fellowship, in all that is good and true shall remain as an abiding inspiration and incentive to all with whom he was associated. he was a member that knew Christ as a personal friend, who care for the respective services of the church with great interest, who prayed for the Kingdom of God to come, and who supported the work of the Gospel in service and substance. you would be astonished and surprised to know how much money he sent home for the support of the local church, even tho he was in a foreign land fighting for the protection of our homes. And the pastor was more than surprised when a few weeks ago he was informed that he had sent home a certain apportionment and $5 of the same were to be used for the Benevolence of our church.

He leaves to mourn his early departure his father and mother, one sister, Miss Nellie, and one brother, Harold, as well as many other relatives and a great host of friends.

Sermon in Part:

War is coming closer home to us. we are being asked to give and give more, and our people are giving and have given ungrudgingly of our resources for the disposition of our Army and Navy for the accomplishment of their duty. But what are our resources in comparison to the lives of our boys? how much would you give for the joy of having your boy back in your home circle? the father of Robert informed me that he would have been willing to have given his farm and every dollar he had and work out by the day for the joy of having his son come back to the home circle with the other boys in the service. The Foster family and our community has offered up a son at the alter of democracy.

In my last letter to Robert I quoted a few lines from a poem as follows: