Part 3

Saw Les. Herrick yesterday. He’s looking fine. We went over the feed we had last Christmas night—it was a wonder. One of the boys reminded me that last Christmas eve we were pulled out of bed eleven times on account of air raids. The Boche did their best to put one over on us, but we fooled them. I’ll never forget those raids. First you would hear the guns barking in the distance. Then the bark would get nearer and nearer. Next the twins would let out their war cry. Finally the Lieut. would stick his head in the door with the words, “I want every man to go to the abri at once.” Then would be the hunt in the dark for shoes, tin derby, gas mask, and coat. Then a few bombs. Then the dash for the abri. Then the standing around wondering how long it was going to last. Then another bark from the twins. Then a few more bombs. Then the dying away buzz of the planes. Then the grand return, only to do it all over again a few minutes later. It was a great life. The Field Service sent a wallet to us for a Christmas present. On the inside there is printed in gold letters “Dernier Noël de la Guerre en France.” Translated literally that means, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Understand that they were also going to give us some kind of a medal but they weren’t finished in time and that later on they will come through.

So another Christmas came and another Christmas passed in France. It was a pretty good Christmas at that, but if it’s all the same to all those concerned I’ll take my next at home.

_January 6, 1919._

DEAR MOTHER:

We have slid into the New Year almost without knowing it. We did, however, have a small celebration New Year’s Eve; but as there was no ringing of bells or tooting of horns at midnight, we had nothing to remind us just what this party was all about.

The night before last the French troops in town put on a show. Stage, scenery, and orchestra were very much there, even a spotlight. The acts were mostly singing ones; sad songs, glad songs, and every old kind of a song were dished up. There were also a couple of monologues thrown in for good luck. They talked so fast that I wasn’t able to get what they were all about, but from the laughs and cheers they must have been not only good but spicy. To wind things up, there was a one-act play. There were two women parts, both taken by French soldiers. They were right there with the looks and form divine. I was able to follow the play and as they say at home, it was rather broad.

Today was qualification card day. An officer sits at a table with a card, that has more questions on it than a questionnaire and shoots question after question at you. You are asked everything, from who your favorite actress is to how old is Ann. One question was, “What branch of the service would you choose, if you had to do it all over again?” Guess everyone answered that question the same: “Anything but this.” After all was said and done, it was still a question of when we would get home.

Went over to Charleville the other day. Same old reason—to get a bath. The bath house was closed, however, there being no water. Going over you came pretty close to collecting on my insurance. We got a ride on a truck, the driver of which would be a wonder as a tank jockey. After missing a few pedestrians, he ended up by trying to do a Brodie off a bridge. Some German prisoners were ahead of us on the bridge, pushing a field range along. There was a space left about big enough for a baby carriage to squeeze by, and “dauntless Harry,” seeing an opening, tried to see if his truck would fit said opening. It didn’t, and the first thing we knew the camion had crashed through the railing and the front wheels were dangling in space. The drop wasn’t a great distance, but if we had taken the fall no doubt we would have been found with the camion resting on the back of our necks.

KIRKLAND

_January 20_

DEAR MOTHER:

This week has been full of ’most everything from M. P’s. to Colonels.

Today the Inspector-General gave us the once over, only he isn’t a General, just a Colonel. You never saw such a scrubbing, brushing, and general cleaning up, as went on. Our quarters looked like a livery stable when we started in, but at the finish the Board of Health would have presented us with a blue ribbon. Clothes were folded up and placed on bunks, shoes shined to a white heat, faces washed and shaved, nails cleaned, and guns dusted off. At two o’clock the curtain went up. Down to the field we marched where we were to be looked over and to look over. We were all curious to see just what kind of an army bird an Inspector-General was. Judging from majors and colonels we had seen, we expected someone who would scare us out of seven years of life when he asked a question. However, this colonel was O. K. and for once an inspection was almost a pleasure. After being given the up and down we marched back to camp where we fell out to stand by our beds for a barracks inspection. We stood by our beds, on which were laid out all our A. E. F. possessions. Being in the company office, and being company clerk, I expected to have all sorts of questions fired at me in regard to service records, reports, and all that goes to make the life of a clerk anything but a joy. However, I didn’t have to open my mouth.

The inspector said that the French had spoken very highly of us and our work. In fact the French M. T. C. have said that their American Groupes have done more work, rolled more cars, and kept their camions in better conditions than any French section. That if the French had had the camions that we did, the cars would have been in the junk pile long ago.

Our Groupe commander received the Croix de Guerre last Sunday. He says it’s for the work done by his men at the front when they hauled tanks. It was at the time when Lieutenant Edwards was killed.

I’ve been to Luxembourg. Our Lieutenant gave us his permission and Ford to make the trip. Last Saturday at noon we started out. We got to Luxembourg at seven and three of us went into a hotel to get rooms and see about supper. The other two went out on a hunt for a garage. We got the rooms (you never saw such beds), arranged for supper, and then went out to the corner to wait for the return of the jitney jockeys. We had no sooner started waiting than two M. P.’s (military police) gave us the glad hand. Wanted to know what we were doing and if we had passes.

We told them we were waiting for two boys who had gone to stable a flivver and that our pass was with them. That didn’t seem to please the M. P.’s. (They are always hard to please.) They wanted to know just what our business in Luxembourg was and just what kind of a pass we had. We told them we were in Luxembourg for pleasure only, and that our pass was a red auto pass signed by Major Mallet and countersigned by our Lieutenant. That answer didn’t make the M. P.’s feel any more friendly. Instead they told us in no polite terms to come with them. We went!

The three of us were marched to the city hall where our names, number, and A. E. F. address was taken, everything but finger prints. The room where this third degree took place was no doubt the club room of the Luxembourg police, as three or four of them were scattered about the scenery. (Their uniform is good enough for any general, if brass buttons count.) After getting our pedigree, an M. P. picked up a very businesslike looking key and invited us to come with him. We went. We were taken to a six by four cell which was already inhabited by two other law breakers. Just about this time we woke up to the fact that we were arrested and questions came thick and fast. The questions didn’t get us anywhere, so we asked to see an A. P. M. officer. There wasn’t any but at twelve o’clock we could see the sergeant of the guard in another jail. Good night! One hundred and fifty kilometers—to be pinched!

All the time we were wondering what had become of the other two. In about an hour we heard the door out front open and then heard voices in the club room. It was they! The pass was no good, to be good it needed only a General’s scrawl. The gate opened and in they came.

At twelve o’clock we were pulled out and lined up with the rest of that night’s haul. About twenty of us, I should say. We were then marched to the other side of the river to the railroad station. Through the waiting room and upstairs we were taken. A very heavy door was opened and we were pushed into a room. In this room were gathered the round-up from all the smaller jails. There were about fifty of us, and the room was overflowing. No chairs, bunks or pictures, just a dirty floor and a blank wall. The gathering was a rummage sale.

About six o’clock the corporal of the guard came in. He looked the room over and asked where the five men were who had the French pass. We spoke up and were told to come with him. We went and were told that our pass was no good, that we could go but would have to leave town at once.

Luxembourg, from what I saw of it, is a wonderful city. Street cars, electric lights, cafés, hotels, stores and at least one good-looking girl, were a few of the things we saw.

No doubt you have noticed that each division has some sort of shoulder insignia. Ours is a yellow trumpet on a green background. It is the coat of arms of the Mallet Reserve. If ever you see on the left sleeve right where it joins the shoulder the yellow trumpet on the green background, you will know that the Mallet Reserve is on its way.

KIRKLAND

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. 2. Retained spelling in the cartoon captions. 3. Enclosed underlined font in _underscores_. 4. The caret (^) serves as a superscript indicator, applicable to individual characters (like 2^d) and even entire phrases (like 1^{st}).