Chapter 2

Our First Glimpse of France

At Brest, the American soldiers got their first idea of the magnitude of the work that the American Government was doing in the prosecution of the war. Prior to our arrival there we had heard a great deal about the construction work in French ports that the Americans had undertaken, but our ideas of just what this work was, were more or less vague. At Brest we saw just what it was. We saw miles of concrete piers that had been built in record-breaking time with American skill, American speed and American thoroughness. This work was a revelation to all France, and the magnitude of the task, together with the remarkably short time in which it was completed, stamp it as one of the wonders of the war and as a lasting tribute to American ingenuity and efficiency. These piers and warehouses of American construction played a great part in ending the war, for they enabled the American Government not only to land millions of troops in France, but to provide adequate food, ammunition, guns and other necessary supplies for these men. Nothing like it had ever been done before in the history of the world.

Soon after we left the boat at Brest, the men were lined up on the pier and given a sensible and appreciated address by the Commanding Officer. He told us that now more than ever before, since we were upon foreign soil, orders were to be obeyed to the letter. We were told to be careful in all that we did because by our actions the French people would judge the American nation. He advised us to do everything commanded of us by our officers with snap and thoroughness, so as to show the French people that we were not raw recruits; that we were real soldiers; that we could do as well at any task, if not better, than the soldiers of Europe. The boys, to a man, lived up to those instructions, and it was not long before the world knew that the American soldier was the equal of any on earth.

After this interesting advice was received we swung into squad right and our first march on French territory began. We first marched more than a mile through the railroad yards in Brest. These were all of American construction. We saw miles of warehouses, filled with various kinds of material of war and great quantities of food, not only for the American soldiers, but for the civilians of France as well. These warehouses were of wooden construction, and so different in design and material from other buildings in Brest that we recognized at once that they were built by Yankees. For this reason, we greeted them as friends; it was like looking upon a familiar scene.

Most everything else, however, that met our eyes had a decidedly foreign look. The railroad trains in the yards were French, and entirely different from those of this country. The freight cars have a diminutive look. They are only about half the size of American cars and they rest upon single trucks. The locomotives are much smaller than ours and have brass boilers. We did not see anything of the familiar dark red American box car and the giant American locomotives until we got into the interior of France.

We passed many peasant women and children while we were marching through the railroad yards. Some of them were offering cakes and nuts for sale, others were begging white bread from us. It was here that we first heard those two French words that became so familiar to us before we left France, "Donnez moi." It was "donnez moi" this and "donnez moi" that, especially from the children who begged cigarettes, pennies, and anything else that the American boys might have to give away.

Brest is built on hills, some of which rise abruptly and give a picturesque look to the old city. As we marched through the residence part of the city, the women from the windows gave us a hearty welcome, waving flags and calling "Vive les Amerique." Our march took us over a winding roadway through the district where the poorer classes lived and we did not get a view of the more attractive parts of the city on our arrival. The street we marched along was paved with broken rock and was in excellent condition; it was crossed several times by overhead railroad tracks built on massive arches of masonry.

Our first impressions are rather difficult to describe because everything had such different appearance from familiar things in America. One noticeable feature was the character of the construction. The buildings are of stone or some other such inflammable material, with roofs of slate or tile. There are no frame buildings, except those that have been constructed by Americans since April, 1917.

The dress and the habits of the people differ materially from those of America. Most of the lower classes wear sabots, or wooden shoes. Some wear sabots with leather tops. But few, if any, all leather shoes are in use among the lower classes. While all shades and colors of clothes were worn by children, we noticed that the women were nearly all dressed in black. This, we believed to be because they had lost relatives in the war, and we later found that our conclusion was the correct one. Among the poorer classes the men wear large loosely fitting trousers and tight jackets. They wear a peculiar hat, with a tightly fitting crown, a broad round brim, and two streamers of black ribbon about eighteen inches long hanging down in back. The middle classes dress more like Americans, though not with as well made clothes as one is accustomed to see in this country.

After marching about five miles, we were given a rest in an open field in the outskirts of Brest. Here we were again addressed by an officer and cautioned to be careful about coming in contact with the French people, and particularly with the women and children of the lower classes. We were informed that the lower classes of women and the peasant children are nearly all syphylitic, especially in seaport towns. This sent a shudder through us, for we had already been fondling some of the French children, before we realized the necessity for caution. The warning was heeded and thereafter the boys kept the peasants at a distance.

As we resumed our march, we began to get into a cultivated district. The rolling land along the roadway was cut up into small farms ranging in size from a half acre to about two and a half acres. The boundary lines of these farms were hedges; there were no fences, such as we have in America. The land was planted to truck gardens, berries, fruit trees, etc., and at the time that we saw them, they were in good condition and apparently quite productive.

It was about 6 o'clock in the evening and after a long and hard march that we arrived at the Napoleon Barracks, where we were to have a few days' rest before going into the interior. These barracks are quite extensive. They are built of stone and are surrounded by a stone wall. The wall is about three feet thick and twenty feet high, and it would be a difficult matter for anyone to scale it. To keep soldiers from trying to get out, broken glass is cemented into it for the entire length on top. The purpose of this was to make it so dangerous that no soldier would attempt to climb it. There are two arched gateways leading to the interior. These archways are fitted with heavy gates, which were originally designed as defense gates in case of attack. The main buildings within the enclosure are of two stories and are built of stone. We were not long in being assigned to the bunks that we were to occupy during our stay. These were two decked affairs with a mattress of slats about two inches apart to sleep on. They were about as uncomfortable as anyone can imagine and most of the boys preferred to sleep on the floor. These barracks had been occupied by many American boys who had gone before us. We saw thousands of American names written on the walls, and occasionally we would run across one that we knew. And, like the other, we too wrote our names, for the boys who followed to read and comment upon.

Our meal for the first night at the barracks consisted of the rations we had been given upon leaving the ship--bully beef, sour bread and cheese. Our cooks got their fires started and gave us some coffee, which stimulated us after our long and tiresome march.

After eating, we were permitted to write to our folks at home, and all of us spent the evening in correspondence. We were not permitted to write while on board ship, so most of us had several letters to send. I wrote until 11 o'clock that night. I was surprised to find that it was not yet dark. The long and appreciated twilight is due to the fact that Brest is a great distance farther north than Sacramento, and this was in the middle of summer, when the evenings are longest.

Not all of the buildings within the walls at the barracks are of ancient construction. Several were recently built, such as a hospital, a bath house for the accommodation of our men, the Y. M. C. A. hut, etc. At this particular place the "Y" hut was appreciated by us because it afforded us amusement, we could buy fruit, cakes, tobacco and other articles there, and we could attend to our correspondence there. We were assembled there on one occasion to hear two addresses on the ways and habits of the French people, which were to benefit us. We also exchanged our American money at the hut for French money. For a dollar we received five francs and seventy centimes, and it was amusing to see the boys studying over the French money system, as it was difficult to understand at first. Some of the boys, not knowing the value of the French franc, paid enormous prices for fruits, candies, etc., to French women and girls, who peddled these articles.

While at the Napoleon Barracks we saw the first American wounded. They were soldiers who had participated in the defense against the German drive which began in March, 1918. It was from them that we first learned the real horrors of war. Some had only one arm; others had lost a leg; still others were suffering from shell shock. Those who were suffering from shell shock were the most pitiful, as the least unusual noise startled them.

I had the good fortune to be placed on a motor truck detail during three days of our brief stay at Brest. This gave me an opportunity of seeing most of the city. It has about 120,000 inhabitants, is one of the chief ports of France and has a harbor that is protected by nature as well as by strong fortifications. Lying as it does, among the hills, there is much natural beauty in the city and its surroundings. The streets are about as wide as those of the average American city, although there are a number of very narrow streets that cut into the main thoroughfares at angles and these reminded me somewhat of the narrow streets of Boston. The city is kept clean and there are numerous parks and public squares. The latter are frequented mostly by women and children, though it is not uncommon to see French soldiers, home from the front on leave, lounging in them. The warm blooded French people have ideas that differ widely from those of Americans in many respects, and it is nothing unusual to see a French couple making love in broad daylight with persons passing by on all sides, in one of these public parks. Occasionally one would see an American soldier sitting with a French Mademoiselle. French troops were often drilling in these squares--not troops that had participated in the war, but companies of younger men who were being trained for war. It was interesting to watch them and to contrast their manoeuvers with ours.

There are no skyscrapers in Brest, that is to say, there are no tall office buildings there, although the city is an important business point. The only tall structures are the churches and an old castle, dating from the thirteenth century. The business buildings are all of two or three stories. The stores are not as up to date as the retail establishments in America, and the methods of doing business are entirely different from ours. Goods are not on display in the open as they are in American stores, but are kept in show cases. If you are interested in a certain piece of goods, the clerk takes it out of the show case and exhibits it to you. If you do not buy it, the article is placed right back in the show case. The clerks are mostly girls. They are plainly dressed but always neat. Most of them wear black. They are by no means as well dressed as American girls who work in stores. The French store employes are very poorly paid, the average wage for a clerk being two and a half francs, or about 50 cents in American money a day.

During the war, Brest was very much of a cosmopolitan city. On the streets most any day could be seen the uniforms of the soldiers and sailors of all the Allied nations--French, British, Italian, Portuguese, American and others. The uniforms of the different nations are of different hues and they gave a tinge of color to the crowds on the streets. They ranged from spotless white to faded blues. The uniforms of the Italian soldiers, in my opinion, were the most attractive. They were a pretty gray, well made and attractive in design. The uniform of the American soldier, while not the prettiest, is the most serviceable. For war use it is no doubt the best. The British wear uniforms very much like ours, although a little different in shade and design. They are serviceable and neat but not attractive. The coat has a small lapel and large brass buttons that are always well shined. The home guards of the French army wore flashy coats and trousers. The trousers were either blue with a broad red stripe or red with a blue stripe.

I regret that our brief stay in Brest did not give me a better opportunity to see the mediaeval churches and castles in the vicinity. But war is serious business with no time for sightseeing and on the third night after our arrival, we received our orders to march at 4 o'clock the following morning. It was a restless night for we knew that every day from now on would take us nearer to the front and to the fight. At 3:30 o'clock on the morning of our departure we were all up and dressed and were packing our belongings. We came to company front promptly at 4 o'clock, just as the dawn was breaking; in a very few minutes we were marching out of the historic Napoleon Barracks never to see them again. The morning was cool and crisp; it was conducive to lively marching and we stepped along at a fast clip, passing three companies of infantry on the way to Brest. The march was an eight mile "hike" and we made it without a stop until we reached the railroad yards at Brest. We were then assigned to compartments in French railroad coaches. Most of them were second and third class coaches, although there were a few first class cars for the officers. There were five compartments to a car and eight men were assigned to each compartment; as we also had to make room for our luggage, we were crowded and uncomfortable. However, we made the best of the unpleasant conditions, and patiently awaited the starting of the train, which was to take us through a country new and strange to us, and nearer to the war zone.