THIS
MAN'S WAR
by
Charles F. Minder
306th Machine Gun Battalion
Company B
JULY
DEAR MOTHER, Monday, July 1, 1918.
Well, we must have some guardian angel watching over us.
We have been very lucky so far and especially last night.
We sure do hand it to the German artillery, for they are
remarkable marksmen. They just seem to smell where we
are. Last night, when Dinola and I were at the gun, all
of a sudden, we heard a swishing noise and then a loud
bang, another direct hit on the house, at the further end
of it, and it crashed right on down thru the floors to
the cellar. Had it hit on the side of the house where we
sleep, there would be nobody of my squad left but Dinola
and myself. We were out in the field in the back of the
house at the gun. It was just a matter of ten feet which
saved the others from being swept into eternity. They
sent over more, and we heard the shells dropping back
further and further. Both sides play for the roads at
night, figuring that there must be soldiers walking on
them at that time.
It sure was a narrow escape, and everybody was restless
and nervous for the rest of the night. It just seems to
rip and tear you to pieces when these shells explode so
close to you.
The Lieutenant came over and set the gun for us and we
fired over to the Germans, giving them fifty shots, and
then a minute pause, and then another fifty. We kept this
up for about a half an hour and then stopped. The
Lieutenant told us that they expected the Germans would
be up and about at that time and we were giving them a
little "strafing."
It was daylight when we quit firing and for a time it
looked as tho we would surely be seen. We crawled back to
the house, keeping as low as possible. I was dead tired
and fell asleep and it wasn't until eleven that I woke
up. I sent two men back for something to eat for the
squad. It took them three hours, our kitchen is so far
back. The afternoon went fast. We cleaned up the room and
got all the dirt out of the place from the shell
exploding in the other room last night.
My friend the Major, our Captain, and the Lieutenant came
up this afternoon to look things over and walked out to
our position in the back of the house to inspect it. What
chances they took! The way they walked around so
unconcerned worried me' because I know the Germans saw us
and sure will let us have it now. They know we are in the
vicinity. They showed me a map of that particular section
of the country and it surprised me how accurate it was.
Every hill and valley and even the houses were plainly
marked. There were mileage marks all over it and with one
of these maps you can hit any spot on the terrain by
doing some mathematics and figuring out in degrees from
the spot you are standing on. It's quite scientific and
interesting in getting the range on an enemy position. I
suppose the observers in airplanes help in locating
positions. I bet a franc that the Germans are doping -out
the range on this house and are figuring on smashing it
to pieces. I was glad when they went on their way.
There is more delay tonight in getting our food up. It's
eight now and I sent them back at three-thirty this
afternoon, figuring they would get back by six--thirty.
The fellows are hungry and it is getting dark and we are
kind of worried about them because, about an hour ago,
the Germans were shelling in back of us, sending them
over fast and furiously for about fifteen minutes. We
hear them going past over our heads and then land with a
bang off in the distance. I have to arrange the different
shifts for the guard tonight. We all have to stand-to for
an hour at nine-thirty. Good night. Lots of love.
CHARLES.
DEAR MOTHER, Tuesday, July 2, 1918
The Lieutenant got over about ten-thirty last night. He
set the gun at a certain degree, and stuck two sticks
into the ground again and started firing fifty shots,
rest a minute, and then another fifty. It wasn't ten
minutes when bang, bang, bang, three shells about a
second apart came over from the German lines and landed
about fifty feet in front of us in the wheat-field. We
had to stick at the gun and keep firing. These shells
coming over seemed to say, "We know where you are,
take that!" You sure have to hand it to them for
getting the range of a place. We were lucky again no one
was hit. The fellows seemed philosophical about it,
remarking, "Well, if your name isn't written on a
German shell, you won't get hit." I suppose the
average number of soldiers hit by shells must be about
one out of every thousand fired. It sure must cost plenty
to kill off one man when you think of the cost of shells.
More shells are wasted in hitting the ground only.
The Germans must have thought that they were off on their
range because they hadn't silenced our machine gun. We
kept right on shooting. The Germans raised their gun and
dropped them farther back of us, then they shifted over a
little to the right and then finally stopped. It was a
peculiar sensation to know that German artillery was
searching for you and trying to wipe you out. At
eleven-thirty, we stopped and went over to the house to
get some sleep, leaving two men at the gun.
At two-thirty, we all had to get up and stand-to until
three-thirty. I almost fell asleep. Besides the two men
at the gun, one man has to be on guard at the house to
watch out for gas. This breaks up our sleep at night all
the more, and I have difficulty in arranging the men for
the different shifts so that all may get an occasional
rest.
I went on from eight to nine this morning, and managed to
get some water out of the well in the back of the house
and shaved myself. I was beginning to have whiskers. We
spent the morning cleaning up the gun and ourselves. We
spend the most of the day waiting for meals to come up
because our kitchen is so far away.
They gave us something to do this afternoon to keep us
occupied, anything to keep us from getting a little rest.
We had to make duckboards to cover over some of the wet
spots of the trenches. At some places you almost went up
to your knees in the mud. The Lieutenant came up later
and got Mac and myself and we started for Company
Headquarters, marking the path all the way so that it
would be easier to find. We visited No. 5 and No. 8
positions, Leonard's and Hurell's. Their positions are
about a mile farther over. Between my position and
Leonard's, there is absolutely no one. He is about a mile
away. When I was back home, I used to think that the
front line from the northern coast of France all the way
down to Switzerland was just a long solid line of men
with no gaps between at all. I swear if the Germans knew
that there wasn't a single soldier between Leonard's
position, a mile away on my left, and my position, they
would march their whole army right on thru and there
would be nobody to stop them.
When it's dark at night, you can't see all the way across
this wheat-field. While I am writing, I must confess it
has me nervous, for there surely is something wrong here
in the management of this particular section of the line.
This has been the most quiet night we have had up here
yet. It is a peaceful summer evening and it is nice and
cool after the hot day we had. The evenings sure are
lovely here in France and it's a shame that a war is on.
We have to get ready now to stand-to, for it's beginning
to get dark so will say good night, God bless you.
CHARLES.
Wednesday, July 3, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
It's raining cats and dogs tonight, and instead of going
out into the open, we have the gun mounted in the rear of
the house under a shed so it won't get too wet. We can
still see our field of fire across the wheat-field, in
case any Germans happen to come over. We were all up at
three this morning and stood-to until four. Nothing
happened.
It was very foggy this morning and the Lieutenant told me
a story which Captain Deven, the Englishman up at
Monecove, related to him. He was in a position and it was
very foggy and the enemy marched right up in columns of
four. The Captain and his men got away. That happened at
the beginning of the war. The enemy always comes over
when you least expect them. He told us to be on special
guard tonight.
I slept for a while and then up at eight to stand for gas
guard again for an hour. I cleaned my pistol because the
damp weather seems to make it rust. You can't be too
careful with it. We were visited by the Colonel and Major
of the 308th Infantry this morning, and they asked me
about my field of fire and where the gun position was,
and then went on their way, walking about as if they were
miles behind the lines. It's surprising that they are not
shot at, because there are German snipers over in the
woods in front of us. Ever so often, a bullet goes
whizzing by. These officers seem to have charmed lives. I
warned them about the snipers but they took no heed and
kept right on walking up farther.
The Lieutenant came over this afternoon and had Mac with
him and the three of us took a walk in the rear of our
position to familiarize ourselves with the ground.
Tonight, the runners lost their way again and we waited
hours for our chow. I came in from stand-to just before I
started to write. We didn't do any shooting tonight
because the Lieutenant didn't show up. We haven't any
orders to do any shooting so the gun gets a rest tonight.
I am writing by candlelight on the floor and it's very
fascinating. I get quite a kick out of it. Well, Mom, the
way things have been here, it looks like the war is going
to last forever. We don't move forward or backward. Love
from
CHARLES.
Thursday, July 4, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
It's almost midnight, and we just got back a little while
ago from some real excitement, and I do not feel any too
good after what happened tonight, something which I have
been dreading all along, and that was shooting at men.
Maybe if I write you and tell you, it will relieve my
mind and I might be able to sleep.
Everything was very quiet tonight, down on the front line, and somehow
we got information that the Germans were going to surprise us with a
raid, thinking we might be off guard on account of it being the Fourth
of July. So, just as it was becoming dark, we were in a trench on the
flank of the Infantry, and when they started to crawl up out of the
trench to raid the enemy trenches, before they were supposed to come
over to us, we opened up with our gun, protecting them, while they
advanced over No Man's Land. We saw some of our fellows falling, and
noticed the sparks coming from an enemy machine gun over in the woods
and shifted our gun on to them. In a few seconds, there were no more
sparks coming from that point. We must have hit them, and our Infantry proceeded
on.
As they were nearing the enemy trench, we saw the Germans
coming up out of it, and we started shooting at them and
saw them fall. Some jumped back into the trench and
others dropped their guns and walked up with hands in the
air. In about two or three minutes, it was all over. It
seemed like an hour to me. I was so excited the
perspiration was pouring out of me.
We stayed there
for about an hour, not knowing just what to do, and I
sure was glad when a runner came and told us that the
Lieutenant said to come back to the house. It was dark
and I saw the silhouettes of the Red Cross men carrying
stretchers with our fellows who were wounded. They have
to carry them back to where the ambulances are at the
First Aid Station. It made me feel terrible, and I was
wondering what good all this killing will do. There have
been wars for hundreds of years, men always killing each
other, maybe they have been forced to, just as we were
tonight. I never wanted to shoot anyone. The German
soldiers we killed tonight probably have dear ones
waiting for them at home just as we have. I wish I knew
what to do, how to get out of this. I don't think I can
stand much of it.
I thought of you all day long, wondering what you were
doing. It was a heavenly day here, very peaceful and
quiet, quite different, I guess, from back in New York. I
suppose you had more frights and scares today from the
noise of fire-crackers, I thought today how you used to
be so nervous about Earnie and I when we were small.
I think they ought to abolish the noisy Fourth of July
celebrations in the future and forget about wars. That
might be one way to abolish war. The celebrating of
victories every Fourth of July keeps the thought of war
before the people, makes war something grand and
glorious, when it is nothing but downright murder, makes
some people arrogant, and it is a mockery of patriotism.
Patriotism shouldn't make men commit murder. Oh, I pray
God that I will be delivered from this some way. Somehow,
I don't want to carry on. I would much rather get hit
myself than ever have to shoot at another man again.
The fellows here in the room haven't spoken a word since
we got back. They must feel just like I do. We are
sprawled around the floor. I am writing by candle-light.
The fellows are staring into space. Two of them are
watching the gun. The German artillery has opened up
since I started to write, and shells are whizzing by over
our heads and dropping into the woods. Good night, Mother
Dear.
CHARLES.
Saturday, July 6, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
For the past two days, I have been trying to sleep, but
the excitement and the noise of the artillery has been
too much for me. It never seems to stop. Just one
continuous explosion after another. Our artillery is
having a duel with the German artillery, both trying to
wipe out the other. The shells have been dropping rather
close to us and the gas from the shells has poisoned the
air so that we have been keeping our masks on most of the
time. It isn't the pleasantest feeling in the world to
have the mask over your face all the time.
We put over another machine-gun barrage tonight, having
doped out our range with a compass and a protractor which
the Lieutenant brought over this afternoon. We were
playing on a spot about two and a half miles behind the
German lines, just behind a hill where the German
artillery emplacement and ammunition dump is supposed to
be. One of our aviators took a picture from the air and
that's how they discovered the spot.
The German aeroplanes were very active over our heads
today and probably were taking photographs of our
positions. We stay inside the house when they are
overhead, for if they ever see any activity around here,
it wouldn't be long before they would let us have a
shower of shells. I suppose they figure that we wouldn't
be so foolish to stick around a prominent target as this
house is, but here we are just the same. They shelled the
village heavily, over on our right, at nine-thirty
tonight, lasting ten minutes and tons of shells dropped
into it. I think the Infantry bunch are over there and
they must have hit some of them. It sounded as if they
were bursting right over our heads. We thought at first
that it was the preparation fire for a general advance on
the German's side, but nothing happened.
We have had a tough time getting food, and as hungry as I
am, I seem to eat just a little and then have to quit.
The food seems like a lump in my stomach. It's after
midnight. The candle on my helmet is burning away
rapidly, so will say good night, I think I will be able
to sleep a little if the shells whizzing by over our
heads only let up for a little while. God bless you,
CHARLES.
DEAR MOTHER, Monday, July 8, 1918
It's seven o'clock. We all have our packs made up and
waiting for the soldiers to come up and relieve us some
time tonight, and we go back for a rest after our first
stretch in the front lines. We sure are glad to get out
because we have been up here for quite a time and all
need a good cleaning and delousing. The cooties have
hatched out millions of young ones while we have been up
here. There has been a young battle raging here and I
don't envy the fellows who are going to relieve us. It
was a very quiet spot when we first got here.
We put over a terrific machine gun barrage last night
from nine-thirty to eleven and almost shot away all the
ammunition we had. The gun was red hot when we got thru.
We slept for a little while, and, at two-thirty, had to
stand-to until three-thirty as the day broke. I was so
sleepy that I went back to the house and slept until nine
this morning when an in-tense artillery fire from our
side awakened me. It lasted for about thirty minutes and
we found out later that the Infantry had gone over the
top again, further over on our right. We saw quite a
number of German prisoners later in the morning being led
back thru the woods.
We had a surprise this afternoon by seeing a woman come
walking up to the house. We motioned to her to keep low
but she didn't heed us in the least and came right on,
fearlessly exposing herself. Our Lieutenant was here at
the time telling us about being relieved tonight.
Luckily, he spoke French, and he told us later what the
French lady told him. This is her home that we are in and
it has been in German hands. This house was once between
the front lines, the Germans holding her in their front
lines. Her son was taken with them when they were forced
back four years ago but returned three days later, after
having escaped. He was killed last March in this house by
shrapnel from the explosion of a big shell. He was
seventeen years old.
The house does show signs of a hasty departure. The
woman, her husband, and three children have been living,
since then, two villages away, down the road. They have
received orders now to evacuate that village by the
fourteenth of this month and go back even further. So she
came up today to look the house over for the last time.
It was sad. Tears were in her eyes all the time she
spoke. She went out in back of the house and picked a
basket full of wild berries before she left.
The enemy was driven back three times from this point in
the past four years. She said her home was hopelessly
ruined and probably when she sees it the next time, it
might be completely demolished. Practically all of the
top part has been shot away already. These poor old
peasants are the real sufferers and my heart went out to
her. She seemed so brave. The men who start wars should
have seen that poor woman today, maybe they might think
twice before they would start another one.
Women the world over should band themselves together and
force men to abolish war. If they have to suffer and
bring children into the world, and then have them snuffed
out in a moment by a shell, they should have something to
say whether there should be war or not.
It's getting dark now, Mother Dear, and we have to
stand-to until we get relieved, which I think will be
about ten tonight when its gets real dark, so will close
with love to you and Mousie.
CHARLES.
Wednesday, July 10, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
We are now in a billet outside of a village called
L'Enaipe, somewhere in the Vosges Mountains. This spot is
one of the most beautiful that I have ever seen. For the
past two days we have been hiking to get here. We
suffered terribly and were all footsore and weary but
this wonderful scenery was worth the torture of the
hiking we went thru.
We were relieved the other night by Company D of our
Battalion about eleven o'clock. Shells dropped to the
right and left of us but never seemed to get near enough
to do any damage. It sure was terrifying to have those
things dropping near us. We were loaded down with our
packs and machine guns and other equipment and stumbled
and fell quite often. About a mile or two, our limbers
and mules were waiting for us, and we loaded the guns and
ammunition on them and started to hike. It was almost
dawn when we came to our destination, some empty shacks
in a deep forest. We slept until noon, ate, and then
started off again and got to this place about one-thirty
this morning.
Corporal Leonard's squad and mine are billeted in this
barn, and the rest of the company is scattered out in
other places. We had a chance to clean ourselves today
and also our equipment. We stripped the limbers this
afternoon and cleaned and oiled them. It was some job! We
are miles away from the front lines and it is very quiet.
Tonight I spent a delightful two hours resting in the
field in the rear of our billet, ad-miring the wonderful
scenery. Mountains are all around us.
It's nine and we were told we are here for the night, so
it looks like a good old eight hours of sleep again,
which I haven't had for a long time. Some of the fellows
are asleep. I am writing up here in the hayloft. It has a
wonderful odor, fresh cut, nice and soft, and makes a
good mattress for us. God bless you.
CHARLES.
Thursday, July 11, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
We were all up at six this morning and, for the first time in many
weeks, lined up in company formation as we
used to do back at Camp Upton and stood for Reveille and
all men were present or accounted for I didn't mind
getting up early at all because I had a wonderful night's
rest, and with all the mountains around us and the
beautiful scenery, it made me glad to be alive. It was
one of the pleasant days of Army life that makes you
forget the disagreeableness of it. After that we had a
good old-fashioned breakfast of flapjacks with plenty of
syrup over them.
The morning passed quickly, and we were free from all
duties, so I took advantage of the wonderful facilities
for washing clothes and got rid of my accumulation and
cleaned them and they dried quickly in the sunshine. The
French women all wash their clothes in cold water, out in
the open, on a board alongside a trough which the horses
drink out of.
At two-thirty this afternoon, Sergeant Kaneen, of our
platoon, and Corporals Leonard, Johnson and my-self were
ordered to make up our packs. At first, we thought we
were going back to the line again for something special.
At four o'clock, the Lieutenant came along. We were all
ready and waiting for him and started off immediately
saying, "So long!" to the rest of the company.
It was an hour after marching that the Lieutenant told us
that we were going to a school to get anti--aviation
training so that we could instruct the rest of the
company when we got back to them again. We marched and
marched, and the pack became heavier and heavier, and I
suffered the usual torture that I always do on a hike. My
right heel, where I was run over when I was a kid,
bothered me terribly today. The road seems to get red hot
and just burns up my feet. I was glad I washed all my
socks this morning, as I had a clean change when we got
here tonight at eight-thirty after marching four and a
half hours.
We are back in the dense forest right behind the
artillery emplacement at a place called Ker Avor. They
are firing all the time and it is quite a contrast from
the quiet and peace which we enjoyed last night which is
about sixteen miles from here. We are right on the road
that leads up to the position that we came out of the
other night. The front line is only about two or three
miles farther up the road. I wish they would have taken
us sixteen miles away in the other direction so that we could have been
away from this infernal noise.
They had some food saved for us and the Lieutenant took
us over to eat. I gathered some pine tree boughs to sleep
on. I am sleeping in a lower berth. There are fifty-six
of us sleeping in this hut, twenty--eight lowers and
twenty-eight upper berths made out of two by fours with
wire stretched to form a spring. The mattress consists of
pine tree branches. They smell good and ought to make
good sleeping. All the non-coms of three machine-gun
battalions are here in the different huts. It's getting
on to eleven, am foot sore and tired, so will say good
night to you.
CHARLES.
Sunday, July 14, 1918
DEAR MOTHER
This is the French Independence Day, which they celebrate
each year as we do on the Fourth of July. The four of us
were over to a village called Neuf Maison this evening, and the way the
French people were carrying on was
surprising. Most all of them in the village were pretty
well intoxicated and all the estaminets were crowded. I
admired their spirits tho. They have had four years of
war and all have someone at the front or someone who has
been killed off already. I suppose they try to drown
their sorrows in wine.
The roads were crowded with ambulances tonight bringing
back wounded soldiers. The Germans put over a terrific
barrage this morning, which, by the way, woke us all
about four o'clock, and it kept up for a couple of hours.
The noise was so terrible that we couldn't sleep any
more. We were on edge, thinking that a general advance by
the Germans was on the program. If they ever had advanced
to where we were this morning, we simply would have been
out of luck, because we haven't much ammunition here at
all, only some machine guns which we are using in
sighting on aeroplanes.
We have been very busy the last few days over at a chalk
quarry near by, which is quite out in the open.
Two of our planes have been circling above us for hours
at a time, and we take turns at sighting the machine gun
at it and try to follow it all the time. The idea is to
hit the gasoline tank and set it on fire. We have also
been instructed in using different instruments for this.
While we were over in Neuf Maison tonight, I ran into Sumner. The last
time I saw him was back at Camp Upton. He told me that he has had some
narrow escapes, going back and forth from the front lines with messages.
He's one of the company runners, a very dangerous job. Last
week when he was up in the lines, he had to run back thru
a barrage and tell the artillery to lengthen the range as
they were dropping shells down on some of their own men
in an outpost position. He is weary of the whole
business, too, and wishes he was back home.
We had the day off for once and I went down to the brook
which is near here and took a good bath right out in the
open. It was perfectly all right because there are no
houses or people around but I smiled at myself, I must
have looked strange taking a bath out in the open. The
day was warm and sunny and the water was nice and cool
and I felt like a two- year old when I got thru. They
brought up five letters to me today. One of yours was
among them, the one you wrote on June 16th. It sure was
good to see your handwriting again. It's too bad you
can't send Mousie away to the country while she is on her
vacation. I wish I had been born about ten years later, I
would be on my summer vacation from school now, also,
instead of over here in this bloody mess.
The artillery is at it hot and heavy again tonight and the woods vibrate
every time they shoot. It's a wonder that the roots of the trees do not
lose their hold on the ground and tumble over. They stand for a great
deal of punishment, too. The trees, where the gas-shells have exploded,
have been killed off also, as the gas is so poisonous that it kills all
green things. The trees are a wonderful protection to us in the summer time, but I
wonder how it will be this winter. I suppose you have to
keep out of sight all day long. It's getting late so will
blow out my candle and hit the pine tree mattress, which
is wonderful sleeping, by the way. Good night,
CHARLES.
DEAR MOTHER, Monday, July 15, 1918
The artillery is banging away tonight with unusual
activity. It's been going on now for the past two hours.
The hut actually shakes from the concussion and it
doesn't look like we are going to get any rest tonight.
There must be an advance on the program, otherwise, they
wouldn't be firing so much. God, if it would only stop!
It makes you jump every time they fire. The poor Germans
must certainly be demoralized. If it's as bad as this on
the side where they are firing from, what must it be like
on the other side where they are dropping all around the
Germans?
They killed the Captain of the Medical Corps of our
Battalion last night, and the funny part is that it
happened right in the doorway of the same house that we
were sleeping in at our old position up the line. He was
struck by a big piece of shrapnel from a shell that
landed right on top of the house. I guess there will not
be any of it left by the time the French woman gets back
to it.
We spent the morning sighting on model planes which they
gave us for that purpose. This afternoon we all went over
to the range near the chalk quarry and everybody fired
the machine gun, using the aero sights on the gun. After
we got back, I guess the Lieutenant thought it would be a
good joke to take us on a four-mile hike, marching at a
terrific pace. It was a hot day and the perspiration
poured off of me. I bet I lost five pounds.
We get a paper here called the Daily Mail, printed in
England. I read it tonight. It said that there was
another big German drive on up on the Champagne sector
between Rheims and Chateau Thierry. This is a very
important point because it is so near to Paris. If they
ever get to Paris, I guess that would be the end of the
war as far as France was concerned. I don't know what
would happen to us away down here in, the Lorraine
sector.
I bet you get the news of what's going on over here long
before we do. About all we see of the war are the few
hundreds of soldiers we see about us, and at times you
get the impression that your squad is fighting the war
all alone. That's the way it felt to me the last time we
were up, because nobody was near us at all.
Bang! A huge German shell dropped near by a min-ute ago.
They are trying to locate our artillery. We are all
nervous. If the Germans lengthen their range a little, we
are in for it. One of the sergeants just hollered to put
out the lights. God bless you,
CHARLES.
DEAR MOTHER, Tuesday, July 16, 1918
The front was quiet tonight and I spent an enjoyable two
hours resting this evening and reading a May fourth copy
of the Saturday Evening Post that managed to get into my
hands somehow. Reading matter is scarce over here. I
found one of Irvin Cobb's stories and enjoyed it
immensely and forgot all about myself, the war and
everything. I am reading it all the way thru, something I
never did with a Saturday Evening Post, devouring every
word of it.
This morning about a hundred German prisoners were
marched past us on the road. They were captured this
morning early, I guess. They looked scared to death. They
were mostly young kids about eighteen and some old men.
Some of them were having a terrible time carrying back
their own wounded on stretchers. Our artillery fire last
night must have cut them to pieces.
This morning we were instructed in the identification of
the German and Allied planes. They also gave us range
cards showing the velocity of bullets at different
ranges. It was all very interesting but I couldn't figure
out, how on earth all this data is going to help us. When
you are up in the line, you have to shoot and shoot fast,
you haven't time to look up charts and dope out ranges,
elevations, and one thing or another. It seems like
wasted time to me. I've forgotten practically all of the
stuff they jammed into us, back at Camp Upton. If they
would only teach us some way of standing this infernal,
nerve-wracking noise of artillery fire, I would
appreciate it. I'm shaking almost all the time.
Tonight, at seven, two men were picked from each company
to go up the line and put over a machine-gun barrage.
They selected Leonard and Kaneen, so Johnson and I are
out of luck tonight, but we get our turn tomorrow night,
they said. It's almost ten, am tired and will say good
night, Mother Dear.
CHARLES.
Wednesday, July .17, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
We are back with the company now at Laruipt, a quaint
little village down in the Lorraine section. Our school
suddenly ended this noon and I was glad to get away from
that awful artillery fire. It certainly is quiet and
peaceful here. The fellows all seem in good spirits, many
were playing cards this evening. This morning we had
problems to solve, a sort of test of all that we had
learned while we were at the school. At noon, the fellows
started to leave for their different outfits. We were the
last to leave. I took advantage of the long wait and went
down to the brook again and took a bath. The water was
ice cold and it surprised me that it should be so cold
because it was a terribly hot day. We were annoyed this
afternoon by a swarm of big ugly-looking flies, that
seemed to come from nowhere. They were just like bees,
the way they bit us. A limber from our company came for
our packs late this afternoon, so we had nothing to carry
on the hike back to the company.
At seven, tonight, the Lieutenant and the four of us
started off. We walked through three villages, Rantelier,
Bertichamps, and Raon L'Tape. They are a couple of miles
apart, and it was quite a hike before we got back to the
outfit. The Lieutenant bought two bottles of champagne
while we passed through Bertichamps, and we all drank it
on the road after we got outside of the town. I don't
think the Lieutenant is used to drinking, because the
little he had went to his head, and he began to act
foolish. He was the only one who knew where the company
was located and we simply followed after him-we had to-as
he is our superior officer, drunk or sober. After getting
lost in the woods and rewalking our steps, we finally
reached our billets here at eleven.
One of the
fellows in the company, named Kapp, was cleaning his Colt
automatic pistol today and accidentally shot himself
through his leg. He is now in the hospital. It's almost
twelve, Mother Dear, so will say good night.
CHARLES.
Thursday, July 18, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
Nothing very exciting happened today. It was a heavy and
rainy day, and it's strange how blue and homesick you can
become when the sun isn't shining. This morning, in spite
of a drizzle, we marched over to a range near by for
pistol practice. Our raincoats, which are supposed to be
waterproof, were soaked thru and thru. We all fired
thirty rounds at a target. It's the first time I ever
shot it, and every time I pulled the trigger, my arm shot
into the air. The pistol has a kick like a young cannon.
We spent the afternoon cleaning and straightening out our
equipment and about four o'clock, were lined up for
inspection. Before we were dismissed, the Captain read
from a sheet of paper that I was promoted today to an
Acting Sergeant.
Funny, but ever since I was drafted into the army, I
never have had any use whatsoever for Sergeants, and now
I am an acting one, and before long will be a
full-fledged one, after acting it for a while. Well, I am
going to be a different kind of sergeant than the dirty
punks that I ran into. I am just the same today as I was
when I was a buck private. I never have to boss any of
the men in my squad, and have I never bawled out any of
them, and get along fine with them.
When there is any work to be done, I always dig in with
them and they notice those things and think more of you.
It's always best to treat them like human beings.
We are sleeping up in a hayloft where we are billeted
now, and it is a wonderful place to get lousy in. I only
slept in it one night and today a flock of cooties were
crawling all over me. I spent tonight killing them off
over my candle flame. The fellows are all disgusted and
will be glad when we move out of here as nice as the
scenery is all around. But I think you can get these
cooties no matter where you go. France is just alive with
them. It sure is a lousy country. Well, Mother Dear, I
guess I'll close, and hit the hay.
CHARLES.
DEAR MOTHER, Friday, July 19, 1918
This morning we were all awakened bright and early and
stood for Reveille. I don't know how Leonard did it, but
he managed to talk somebody inviting himself and me a
pass for Baccaret, a very big town. We were also very
lucky in picking up lorries which gave us lifts both
ways, and we had little walk-ing to do.
We spent the day visiting all the Y. M. C. A. and
Salvation Army huts. The town has been damaged pretty
badly in spots by aeroplane bombs being dropped on it. We
saw a couple of hospitals and wounded soldiers, bandaged,
were all over the place. It was a terrible hot day and I
bet the poor fellows must have suffered. When the wounds
are bandaged, they must be pretty hot on days like this.
We got back to the company at five, and just in time to
stand for Retreat, and then had a good feed.
At six-thirty, we decided to go for a swim over at the
canal near by. just as we got there, we heard a cry for
help. A fellow from upstate, by the name of Heimanz, was
wading in the shallow water and suddenly stepped off
where it became very deep. He couldn't swim, and neither
could any of the others who were near by. He went down
for the third time.
We all jumped in after the poor fellow, clothes and all,
and fetched, but the water was so dirty we couldn't find
him for some time. Finally, Bergstrom discovered him.
Heimanz had grabbed a branch growing at the bottom and
had a death grip on it. The water was about ten feet
deep. He was under for about five minutes. We started
working on him, trying to get the water out of his lungs.
The medical men came along shortly, our Captain and
Lieutenants, and relieved us of the work of trying to
revive him. We had been working frantically. We got hot
water from a French farmhouse and kept up a relay
applying it to Heimanz. It was twelve o'clock when they
finally gave up all hope. The medical men said there
wasn't a sign of life in him. His heart had stopped
beating and his muscles were stiff and he was becoming
colder every minute. We dressed him and placed him on a
stretcher and left him in the billet for the rest of the
night, while we all sadly returned to our billets. It is
impossible to describe our feelings in words. Everybody
was very sad. It was a tough way to go, so many miles
from home.
It's after one, and am going to try to sleep a little if
I can. I notice some of the others feel like I do. It was
too much of a shock to see Heimanz go like that. My
uniform is still wet. It's the only one I have, and I
hope it gets dry by morning. Good night, Mother Dear. God
bless you.
CHARLES.
Sunday, July 21, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
Things do happen quickly. Here we are back in the line
again and you'll laugh when I tell you just where we are.
We got here at midnight after a long hike. The Lieutenant
stopped at a tree just in front of a cemetery wall and
said, "This is your position, dig in here,
Corporal!" I saluted, and he went on his way with
the rest of them.
Shell-holes were all over the cemetery. We were told to
sleep inside the wall. We did the best we could. Luckily,
the moon was shining, and we picked out a vacant spot
under a tree where there were no graves. I had a very
restless night, dreaming of ghosts and skeletons, and I
was glad when day broke this morning. As spooky as it
was, the fellows in my squad took it good-naturedly and
joked about it. Purcell found a tombstone with
"Louise Maurencin," and the date of her birth
and death on it , "1890-1908." He threw himself
down on top of the grave and jokingly said, "Well, I
guess I'll sleep with Louise tonight,
Okay, Corporal?" "Okay," said I, and we
all burst out laughing, at midnight, in the cemetery. One
fellow remarked that it wasn't the dead that we need be
afraid of but the Germans. After arranging the different
shifts for the guard, we just threw ourselves on the
ground behind the wall and fell asleep.
Yesterday morning, we got the body of Heimanz ready for
burial and, at twelve o'clock, he was laid to rest in a
graveyard in the rear of a little church in the village
of Bertrichamps. The Chaplain said a few words for him
and prayed, and that was the end of poor Heimanz, the
first one to be snuffed out in our company.
We spent the afternoon making up our packs, loading up
the limbers with our equipment, and cleaning up our
billets, leaving them spick and span, cleaner than they
were, when we first came into them. Our outfit has a
reputation for cleanliness.
We started marching about seven last night and finally
arrived at this, position after unloading back in the
woods, and carrying our machine guns and ammunition the
rest of the way. I haven't figured out exactly where we
are, but it is near a place they call Ker Avor. We have
been working today building a shelter out of some lumber
and pieces of sheet metal we found on the side of the
road.
We managed to make bunks, one on the ground, and two
uppers on both sides of the corner of the cemetery wall,
with sheet metal resting over us to keep out the rain
which came down quite heavily this morning and urged us
on to finish this shelter.
The worst part about this place is that we are so far away from our
kitchen, and it takes two hours walking each way to get food. This is
another one of those funny positions where it seems that we are fighting
the war all by ourselves. The nearest position on our right must be a
mile away. In front of us are rolling hills as far as your eyes can see,
and about a half mile away are lots of trenches and barbwire entanglements, which must be the
front line. The only noise we heard today to remind us
that a war was on, was an occasional explosion off in the
distance further north, otherwise you would think we were
on a picnic.
No officers have been here as yet. We have no
instructions. We just stay here, keeping a man on guard
all the time, looking out thru the holes in the wall down
toward the front line. As soon as it gets darker, we will
all stand-to and dig our gun emplacement a little deeper
outside the wall. Good night, Mother Dear, God bless you.
CHARLES.
Tuesday, July 23, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
The quietness of the other day was only a lull before the
storm. For the past two days they have been throwing
shells back and forth at each other. Some of the shells
from the Germans landed right in the cemetery, smashing
many of the tombstones to pieces. It seems as if they
want to kill the French dead and buried here a second
time. I think the reason they take shots at the cemetery
is because they figure that it might be used for an
observation post. For every shell that they send over,
our artillery sends back at least five. There is plenty
of firing going on further up the line and it looks as if
an advance might be on the program. They ought to do
something down here, because it's been like this for the
last two years.
The Lieutenant came over yesterday and took me to the
other positions of the other squads. The four squads are
stretched out for about a mile and a half. Word got
around that my squad was in the cemetery, and the fellows
were kidding us about whether the ghosts come up out of
the graves at night or not. I told them about Purcell
having a date with Louise almost every night. It's funny
how we sit around on the graves and eat and wash and
shave right on the tombstones. The relatives of these
dead would be shocked if they could see us.
The Lieutenant told me to go over to Corporal Hendrickson
and Jansen at their positions, and instruct the men on
aerial gunnery which the four of us learned about last
week. When I got back to my position last night, it was
dark and I couldn't write any. We have to stay in
darkness up here, I miss my old candle at night, but if I
should light it here, I'm afraid the Germans would throw
a barrage over on us.
They had some food saved for me which they got from the
Infantry kitchen about a mile and a half up the road,
instead of taking the long walk to our own kitchen. We
dug our gun emplacement deeper last night so that the
barrel of the gun just clears the top. This gives us more
protection.
One of our sergeants was given a commission as second
lieutenant and sent back to the United States as
instructor. Hurrah! But I do wish he could have stuck
around a little longer. We were all very anxious to see
just how tough he would be when we got into some real
excitement. They say that every time a shell exploded he
would jump into the air and take a dive for the nearest
ditch and hug the ground, scared to death. I like to see
these tough guys whimpering like babies as soon as the
Germans start throwing shells across.
The bunks are nice and soft, with leaves under our
shelter-halves as mattresses, but we haven't had much
sleep on account of the noise of the artillery and the
aeroplanes flying overhead almost all night long. They go
out on bombing raids. It rained all day, and we were
lucky to have this shelter over us or we would have been
soaked.
The Major came up this afternoon and looked over our gun
emplacement outside the wall. We never go out there in
daylight because we can be seen by the Germans. The Major
walked all around the place as if he were miles behind
the lines. When the Germans see us, they do not fire at
us right away. They dope out the range and their
artillery get instructions to lay down a few on us. This
will probably happen tonight. It always does, after the
officer leaves. He didn't approve of the emplacement
being in that position, and told me, as soon as it became
dark, to dig another one farther over, about fifty feet.
We are waiting for it to get dark so we can get at it.
It's a great life, this army life, if you can stick it
out. There are more bosses telling you what to do, and
the funny part is that everyone wants it done in a
different way. Well, Mother Dear, it's time for stand-to
and the digging. Good night.
CHARLES.
Friday, JU1y 26, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
We must all have charmed lives in my squad, for how we
ever escaped being hit is beyond me. The cemetery is a
wreck and the ground all around us is full of holes and
reminds me of the comb that the bees make honey in.
Everybody feels nervous and we sure will be glad when we
get out of here.
We finished the new gun emplacement. Yesterday, our
Captain and Lieutenant came over and criticized the
square front and told me to have it rounded off, and to
face it more to the right flank, so that we can put over
an infilade fire, should it be necessary.
There has been a dreadful stench around here for the past
two days and we thought it was some of the dead that the
German shells had ripped open, here in the cemetery, but
it was from a half dozen horses from the artillery outfit
back of us. They were bringing up ammunition the other
night, and a German shell made a direct hit on one of the
limbers, exploding shells, and killing the horses and
men, and spattering guts everywhere. What a mess! The
gentle wind from the west has been wafting the aroma down
here to us and it sure smells terrible.
The roads around us here are camouflaged with high
screens made of long poles with twigs and leaves wound
through the netting. From where the Germans are, it must
look like the surrounding country and covers the road
completely. The only way the enemy can tell there is a
road is from the photographs the aeroplanes take.
I had to take a trip over to the other positions and
signaled back to them so that the extreme right of the
traverse could be determined to avoid shooting into each
other. There are lots of rumors that our Division moves
from here soon. Some say that we are going to be sent to
Cuba, others say the Philippines, and others say we are
going to a more active front. Why don't they make this an
active front, instead of going thru some more torture of
hiking to another front ?
We had a good feed of flap-jacks and syrup sent up to us
this morning, just the way you make them at home. The
Infantry kitchen has a good cook, I wish he was with our
outfit.
Almost every morning this week, three French aeroplanes
have been circling above the German lines, on observation
duty only. The German anti-aircraft guns opened up, and
the sky become full of the exploding shells and the black
shrapnel-puffballs, as I call them-drive them back all
the time. The shells ex-plode nearer and nearer to them
as they race across the sky but never hit them, always
eluding the finger-tips of some giant hand of death, it
seems. It certainly is exciting watching them.
The Germans must have wasted thousands of dollars in
ammunition on these three planes. They maneuvered around
for two hours, and then returned to their base. This
morning, nine French planes went over and with all the
shells sent up at them, not one was hit. Well, Mother
Dear, I guess I'll close, it's get-ting dark, and we are
going out to work some more on our emplacement.
CHARLES.
Saturday, July 27, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
It has been raining all day. The life here in the
cemetery is bad enough on good days, but when the weather
is not so good, you get the willys.
Sergeant McGarthy, the Brooklyn policeman, came over this
morning and I spent two hours talking to him and showing
him how to use the prismatic compass and the different
things we learned at the school recently.
The Infantry kitchen sent us up a plum pie this noon,
three-inches thick, and it certainly was good. Our Greek
Mess Sergeant never sends up anything like that.
Last night, I cut my hand pretty badly on the sheet metal
we were using to rivet the gun emplacement with, and had
the medical man fix it up properly this afternoon) I only
had a bandage on it from my first -aid kit.
Sergeant Holms, of our outfit, leaves tomorrow morning
for an officers' training camp-a three months' course. He
came over to say goodby. He's a fine fellow, and will
make a good officer, and deserves to get out of this
mess. Lucky fellow! He's the one who had his pack hit by
a German shell up on the Somme front.
The Lieutenant came over and inspected the gun
emplacement we have been working on and it is now
satisfactory. Thank goodness! He told us to get our
ammunition in order, as we are going to put over a little
barrage tonight about ten. The days are going rapidly and
I wonder how long it is going to last. Oh, how I wish I
was back home again! CHARLES.
Sunday, July 28, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
The Lieutenant came over last night, and about ten-thirty
we started to shoot over to the German lines at
seventeen-hundred-and-fifty meters' range. We would shoot
fifty shots and then stop for a minute. After shooting
for about fifteen minutes-whiz bang! -over came shell
after shell, landing right into the cemetery. They
certainly did wreck it completely last night. How the
French people will ever be able to identify these graves
after the war is beyond me.
The Germans know we are here, and we are in for it now as
long as we stay here. It's good our gun emplacement was
dug deeply, for it protected us from the flying-shell
fragments. We kept right on shooting. The German
artillery became tired and finally stopped shooting, but
today, a half-dozen German planes were flying back and
forth over our heads, making pictures probably of the
damage they did to the cemetery, and trying to locate us.
We kept out of sight.
The Lieutenant brought up a new man for the 8th squad
from the 37th Division, which he said they have broken up
to fill up other outfits. This new man is a fine type
from the State of Mississippi.
Four years ago today this war started with Austria
declaring war on Serbia, because one Austrian was killed
by a crazy Serbian and Millions of men have been
slaughtered since then, and maybe millions more before it
ends. Was that one life worth all this slaughter? It sure
is silly when you think of it.
This afternoon I was told to locate the fifth and sixth
squads over on our right. I discovered that their extreme
range of fire to the left was shooting right into my
position over at the cemetery a mile and a half away. We
changed the firing-post for the extreme left of fire, so
they would clear us, in case any firing had to be done in
that direction, which would only be should the whole
Germany army try to march thru there. We would shoot into
them from both flanks then. If they knew that there was
such a great gap in between our positions, they could
march right thru all the way to Paris on a dark night.
It's surprising that they haven't found it out yet,
because the lines have been just as they are now for
almost two years.
They say, when our Division first came down here, that
the French soldiers became sore because our Infantry took
shots at some German soldiers who were walking about off
in the distance. The French soldiers used to walk about
also in broad daylight, and neither side shot at each
other. This was supposed to be a peaceful front, a sort
of rest for soldiers who had been on some other and more
active front. This front was a rest-but no more! Bang!
The artillery is starting in again! Looks like some more
nerve-wracking noise tonight! It's getting dark, Mother
Dear, so will close. God bless you.
CHARLES.
Monday, JULY 29, 1918
DEAR MOTHER,
I received three letters today and they sure did cheer me
up. After the dreary weather we have been having, letters
are like sunshine to cheer up homesick soldiers. But,
please Mother, do not send me any more money, I have all
I need. It's just like you to do such a wonderful thing
when you haven't much yourself. Do you think I can spend
this money without having a guilty conscience when I
think how you have to work for it back at the bakery?
They only pay you fifteen a week, don't they, and for all
those long hours that you have to work? It's a shame! So
I really cannot take this money and am sending it back to
you.
Tell the man at the post office that your son is now a
Corporal, and makes more than a dollar a day, and pretty
soon, he will be a full-fledged Sergeant and then get
more. So don't you worry about me, Mother Dear! I have
all that I need. There isn't much chance to spend any
money where we are, anyhow.
Last night, out of a clear sky, one of my teeth started
to pain and I suffered all night long with it, and this
morning my face was swollen. When the Lieutenant came
along, he told me to start down the road until I came to
Battalion Headquarters and to ask for the dentist. I
walked and walked for three hours until I finally got to
it.
The dentist took one look at it, reached for a pair of
pliers, gave a quick yank, and before you could say,
"Jack Rabbit!" it was out, and I was on my way
back to the line. He didn't use anything to deaden the
pain, no antiseptic, nothing at all. I think his name is
Goldberg-Doctor Goldberg-and, because he has a college
degree of doctor, they made a Second Lieutenant out of
him. He is my superior officer and, of course, I could
say nothing. I hope I meet this bird some time after the
war, in New York. I'll throw a brick thru his window. The
way he went at it was something brutal. Privates to him
are just so much dirt. He was having a good time kidding
around with some other officers, and I suppose it was
annoying to be interrupted by a soldier with a toothache.
That's the way it is in this army!
When I got back to my squad, I found two former members
of the Texas Rangers there. They were part of the 37th
Division, which is being used to replace vacancies in
other outfits. They were two rough-and- ready fellows,
and I expected them to start to shoot up our place any
minute. Were they blood thirsty? They wouldn't be
satisfied until they had the Kaiser's throat in their
hands, squeezing it until his eyes popped out of his
head. I said, "That's strong language, Buddy!"
After I said that, I expected a fight to start, but I
suppose they were surprised that any one of us would dare
to say anything like that. I asked them what they were
doing up here, and one said they were told to report to
the 308th Infantry. I directed them how to get to the
Company Headquarters and they went on their way.
Tonight when it gets dark, those chaps will be escorted
up to the line and get all the action they claim to be
looking for. Neither one of them has been under artillery
fire as yet. I would like to be around when they get
their baptism. When they first came up to our position at
the cemetery, while I was away, one of them asked,
"What you all havin' here, a picnic? I thought there
was a war on. This ain't no way to end it." In that
last statement of his, he was right. I'm wondering, too,
how it is ever going to end, the way we have been hanging
around this peaceful front down here for over a month
now.
Dinola, the Italian fellow, in my squad, has us laughing,
imitating the Texas Rangers, "Wot you all havin'
here, picnic?" He has a slight Italian accent and
sure is a funny fellow. Well, Mother Dear, it's getting
dark, and we'll have to stand-to soon.
CHARLES.