Grenoble
The first men to receive furloughs in this company received word on the 24th of October to be ready to take the train at Ancemont at 5 A. M. the next morning. Only four places were given each company, and lots were drawn to see who would go. Three places were drawn by "buck" Privates Piatt, Smith and Wise, and Wag. Lawrence Putman was the fourth man. The balance of the day was spent in hurried preparations for the trip. Nobody had made one of these trips before, and no one knew what was required. Full field equipment was the verdict from Headquarters as to packs.
As no alarm clocks were handy, the men took turns sitting up so that they would leave on time in the morning. Like the small boy, they were all up and at the station long before time for the train. First guess was 10 A. M. for the "furlough special," but it was 7:30 P. M. before it finally arrived. About a thousand men from the division were to make the trip, so that it required a good-sized train. The Sanitary Train men were lucky in loading, as they drew a second-class coach, but French coaches, even second class, were never intended for sleeping purposes. All of the men were loaded with rations, issued for the trip, and of course the jam disappeared first, as it usually does under like circumstances.
Next morning a strangely peaceful country and welcome sunshine greeted their vision. Hot coffee was served by a Red Cross canteen for breakfast. Lyon was reached by noon and a short stop was made there.
The train arrived at Grenoble at 3:30 P. M. on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. One captain, four or five M. P.'s and the entire population of Grenoble was at the station to welcome the train. The reception royal was explained by the captain, who said "Grenoble has just been opened as a leave area, and this is the first lot of Americans to arrive." When the men were lined up outside of the station to be marched to the A. P. M. office, they started out in a column of fours, but it wasn't long until they were lucky to get through the crowd at all. All the people wanted to see the Americans and shake hands with them, and not a few wanted to kiss them. It was surprising to hear so many of the people speak good English. They explained this, saying that Grenoble was a popular European and American pleasure resort before the war. Arriving at the office of the A. P. M., passes were stamped and tickets issued for rooms and meals. The men were divided among several nearby towns and pleasure resorts. The last four hundred, including those of the Sanitary Train, were left in Grenoble proper.
Grenoble is built especially for tourists' trade, and the hotels are all large and well furnished. They seemed like palaces to the men just from the barren wastes of northern France. Real beds with white sheets and soft mattresses, lace curtains at the windows, polished floors, neat little wash stands, clothing cabinets and fire places greeted the men in the rooms they were shown to. Single or double rooms were furnished as desired. Meals were served in the dining room of the hotel, and the men were informed that all they had to do for seven days and nights was to enjoy themselves—no reveille, retreat or drill calls to mar their pleasure. Breakfast from 7:30 to 9:00 A. M., dinner at 1:00 P. M. and supper at 6:30 P. M. were served at long tables, family style, and they were real meals. Best of all there were no mess kits to bother with after eating.
Needless to say, it did not take the men long to get used to living like white men again, and before long they were all stepping out to see the town. The barber shops, restaurants and souvenir stores were soon doing a rushing business. Most surprising was the fact that prices didn't take a jump the first day and keep rising thereafter. The trades people even made reductions for the Americans. Modern stores with plate glass windows and electric lights at night greeted the men, and it is gratifying to state that the word "finish" was never heard in Grenoble.
The Y. M. C. A. had a well supplied canteen, and every day several of the "Y" girls led a party of sightseers to nearby places of interest. Every night some kind of an entertainment, either dances, picture shows or vaudeville, was staged by the Y. M. C. A. The French shows were all closed on account of the influenza, so the men had to furnish their own entertainment.
Grenoble is situated close to both the Swiss and Italian borders, and is snuggled right up in the Alps. The mountains are snow-capped the year round, and form a pretty background for the town. Some of the mountains were close enough for a climb, and several parties took trips to them. The town is cut in two by the river Isce and three large concrete bridges span the water, making a pretty setting. The buildings are all large, of modern and substantial construction, and from the top of the nearby mountain the town makes a beautiful picture. Of the eight days spent in Grenoble, seven were sunshiny and clear, so the men were convinced that there actually was such a thing as a "Sunny France."
The mademoiselles all seemed to think it an honor to show the Americans a good time, and the men were never lonesome for feminine company. They seemed more like American girls, as they spoke a little English, wore good clothes, and were very good looking. As the time for departure drew nearer, it was hard for them to think of leaving, but like everything else that sad day rolled around. Many were the promises made to keep up a correspondence, but how many of these promises were kept, only the writer and the censor know. Almost as large a crowd bid them good-bye as welcomed them.
That the men of the 35th division made a good impression on the people of Grenoble is evidenced in a letter from the mayor of Grenoble, thanking our General for the good conduct of the men and asking that more men of the 35th division be sent there.
Whatever the impression made by the boys upon the people of Grenoble, it is certain that the people of Grenoble made a good impression on the boys.
LA BOURBOULE
The "Permissions" read La Bourboule, and no sooner were these handed to their proper owners than sixty well-groomed "Medics," representing the Sanitary Train were on their way to the destination specified. After being jammed into those queer French coaches (third class) with no thought given to comfort, the train finally picked up speed and passed out upon the main line. The clicking of the rail-joints seemed to call cadence for the songs from 1200 throats, all from the 35th division, whose owners were happy to get away from bugle calls, military discipline and slushy streets.
After a few hours' ride—just a sample of what they were to get—the train was sidetracked at Nancy and all enjoyed the best bath they had ever taken, in what is said to be the largest bath-house in the world. Here the water comes out of the ground at a temperature of 78 degrees F. and passes direct into the pool. After this "decootieization" they boarded the train again and were able to sit and enjoy the scenery for the rest of the trip.
The first day and night passed quickly, but then time began to drag, and along toward evening of the second day some great geniuses were born to the world. These were the men who devised the method by which nine men could sleep in a space that only seemed large enough for half that number. Could one have peeped into the passing coaches it would have struck him as exceedingly humorous—some were stowed away in the hat-racks over head, while others, with no room to lie down, were trying to sleep in a sitting posture. So time passed for three days and two nights.
To step from the train and see no town of any size was the thing that befell these men, and exclamations of dissatisfaction and disgust were heard everywhere. Being encouraged by a Y. M. C. A. man standing nearby that twenty-four hours in the town would change their opinion, they were content to be assigned to their various hotels.
The village, or town, of La Bourboule is located in the Auvergne mountains, in the range Puy-de-Dome, and had been a very popular summer resort for the French people up to the time the U. S. government took it over as one of the leave areas for American troops. The altitude of this locality varies, for the valleys are about 2800 feet, while some peaks are 4500 feet above the sea level. But as a leave sector it was a disappointment to everyone. There were no recreations at all except those furnished by the Y. M. C. A. and that place was carried by storm from morning to night. A Y. M. C. A. man spoke of the trouble and placed the blame to the fact that the town had accommodations for 1200 men, but there were twice that number there of the 35th and the 26th divisions. One can easily judge why these fellows thought they were "in the wrong pew." To see an evening's performance of vaudeville or motion pictures at the theatre, it was necessary to take a magazine and lunch, make yourself at home for at least two hours and stick it out in said selected seat.
All had the idea that their days of standing in line for everything were "fini," for seven days' leave, but it was not to be; they lined up to purchase canteen checks and "fell in" behind, sometimes, one hundred others to buy at the wet or dry canteen. At the former could be purchased soft drinks, sandwiches and cakes, while at the latter was an abundant supply of tobaccos and soldiers' needs.
One Y. M. C. A. man made a practice of taking all interested soldiers to see the many sights that the town boasted of, that is, to those that were within hiking distance. The most important were the Roman Baths, which are located at a distance of about six kilometres from La Bourboule. These baths were first built by the soldiers of Caesar about the year 400 A. D. Afterwards the springs were found to be beneficial to people suffering from rheumatics and bronchial troubles. There are eleven springs, all of a temperature averaging from 98 to 100 degrees except one cold spring, and all tasting of mineral properties very strongly. All of these springs are said to be radio-active, and each is famous as a "cure" for some particular ailment. The most popular is the "Singer's Spring," so-called because most of the leading vocalists in the country took treatment there by gargling the water from this spring. The original building was sacked and pillaged by the Gauls and afterwards rebuilt as nearly along former lines as knowledge would permit. Throughout the building are scattered pieces of the former structure; statues, arches and pillars of the old Doric, Ionic and Corinthian designs, which were unearthed and placed on display in the many rooms. Among these is a piece of masonry representing the she-wolf that suckled Romulus and Remus, as the legend goes, when they were lost in the woods prior to the founding of Rome. It is not known, however, whether this is the original that the Romans prized so highly, or a reproduction.
Another thing worth visiting at La Bourboule is the subterranean city, which was supposed to have been submerged by an earthquake in early times. A few of the buildings were unearthed a few years ago, but the task was never completed. All around that vicinity the ground has a hollow sound under foot, and makes walking seem a little dangerous.
On a large plateau, 4500 feet above the town proper, is said to have been the camping ground for Caesar's large army at the time he attempted to stop the advance of the Gauls from the north. The French say he was unsuccessful, and was forced to retire to the valley below. Mont D'Sancy, one of the highest peaks in France, is near this area, but few have ever cared to climb to its summit.
After enduring French menu, which could have been much improved, for nine days, the men were not sorry to receive orders to return to their units. Prices ranged but one way—high and higher. One soldier remarked that every time a certain bell rang, prices in the town jumped a franc. The bell struck every quarter-hour. But conditions returning by rail were even worse than the trip down, for this time, instead of nine to a compartment, there were twelve crabby, disagreeable "soldats" returning from their bi-yearly "Permission" in the heart of France.
THE FURLOUGHS AT AIX-LES-BAINES
Three groups of men of Ambulance Co. 139 were fortunate in having their permissions read "Aix-les-Bains," furloughs which will never be forgotten by the men who went there.
Aix-les-Bains is a famous watering place in a picturesque valley along the French Alps, not far from the Italian border. It is situated at the foot of Mt. Revard, and within fifteen minutes' walk of Lake Bourget, the largest and one of the most beautiful lakes in France. Next to Monte Carlo, it was once the most renowned gambling center in the world.
Everything possible was done to make our vacation a happy one. The men were quartered in the very best hotels, getting the best of service and everything to be desired in the line of eats. There was mountain climbing, entertainments of all kinds provided by the Y. M. C. A., and, best of all, companionship with real, live American "Y" girls.
"Grand Cercle," the celebrated gambling casino of Aix-le-Bains, is now the most beautiful Y. M. C. A. hut in France. It is a large, imposing and luxuriously appointed building, costing several million francs. Its various saloons are ornamented with magnificent mosaics by Salviati, of Venice. Just beyond the vestibule is the "Gallery de Glaces," from which most of the rooms of the casino can be entered. To the right is the beautiful writing and reading room, the library, and the theatre, which seats over a thousand persons. There is also the "Salle de Bacchus" and the "Royal Bar." The bar is still doing a thriving business, but in place of the former bar maid are the attractive American girls, serving hot chocolate and coffee. At the "Salle de Bacchus" one could buy all he wanted to eat at extremely low prices. To the left again are the rooms formerly used for gambling purposes. The largest is used for lectures and informal social times, and the smaller, where the larger stakes were played for, is the center for the religious work program.
The men were privileged to take trips to the summit of Mt. Revard, five thousand feet above the sea level, by means of a little cog railroad. From there they could see the Jura Mountains, the Alps, and the snow-covered top of Mt. Blanc, the highest peak in Europe. When the last furlough men were at Aix-les-Bains, early in February, "skiing" was in vogue on Mt. Revard, and many were the tumbles taken in the attempt to learn that fine winter sport.
Another interesting trip was the hike to Mt. Chambotte, twelve kilos away, where the men could also enjoy skiing and tobogganing. Then there was the bike trip to the "Gorges" where they saw deep gashes worn in the face of the earth by the unceasing mountain streams. Twice a week there were trips by steamboat to Hautecomb Abbey, on which they could get a wonderful view of the lake and the mountains. There, in the historical old Abbey, are quite a number of beautiful oil paintings and statues, taken care of by three old Monks. On all of these trips the Y. M. C. A. furnished a competent guide, who explained the interesting points.
At the "Y" casino, there was some form of entertainment at almost every hour of the day. If there wasn't a vaudeville performance in the theatre, there was either a moving picture show in the Cinema Hall or a band concert in the ball-room, and sometimes all three were in process at the same time. Each Thursday night was "stunt night," when different stunts and dances were put on in the theatre by the soldiers on leave, assisted by the "Y" girls.
Such entertainment as this gave the men a new lease on life. All of the men going to Aix-le-Bains returned saying that they had one of the best times of their lives, and regretted that they could not have stayed longer, as it was more like home than any place they had been in France.
TRIP TO MARSEILLES
While at Fontaine Brilliante, on the Verdun front, orders were received for a detail to proceed to Marseilles for the purpose of getting the ambulances we had been longing for since our arrival in France. Aside from eight G. M. C. cars of Ambulance Co. 138, and four broken down Fords, the 110th Sanitary Train had had no ambulances since leaving Doniphan. We had long since given up the idea of ever having a transportation section again, in fact someone had even gone the length of voicing the following lament:
"They sent us down to Doniphan to get an ambulance
To go abroad and let 'er go and drive for sunny France,
And then it took us seven months to get a pair of pants.
Oh, there's something rotten somewhere in this blooming ambulance.
Of course to drive an ambulance you've got to learn to drill,
So every morning, afternoon, they put us through the mill.
And when this war is over you will find us at it still;
For we never saw an ambulance, and never, never will."
The wagoners and ambulance orderlies were hastily recalled from their work as litter bearers in the advanced posts, and on October 26th, Lt. Speck started for Marseilles for twenty-nine G. M. C. ambulances, with a detail of thirty-two men from Ambulance Co. 139, sixteen from Ambulance Co. 138, and twelve from Ambulance Co. 137. There was a mad scramble to get on this detail, which meant a trip across France, away from the monotony of the trenches.
We arrived at the railroad about an hour early, but in the course of time the train arrived and then started the scramble for the best compartments that the train afforded. Most of us found second-class compartments, which, after more cushions had been obtained, were very comfortable, although a little breezy. Of course no lights could be shown, but they were much better than the customary box cars. Seven-thirty A. M., October 27th, found us at St. Dizier. We were escorted to Camp Tambourine by an M. P., where we spent the morning partaking of our rations. At about noon the M. P. returned, notifying us that the train was ready, so we were checked out of the camp, marched to the train and packed into box cars (40 hommes or 8 chevaux). They were better than some we had drawn formerly, as there was straw on the floor.
The train traveled along a beautiful tree-lined canal for a long distance. Barges on the canal were for the most part drawn by horses, but occasionally we would see very small burros pulling them. Each barge appeared to be a home, for family washings were hanging out on a great many of them.
We arrived at Dijon about 1 A. M. October 28th, and marched across the city wheeling rations on two-wheeled baggage trucks which were "borrowed" at the railroad station. We stayed the balance of the night at a French Permissionares Barrack, and spent the following day looking around the numerous parks and squares. While in the Permissionares barracks, one of our boys inquired of another, "Who are those 'birds' in French uniforms wearing those four-cornered caps?" Before the question could be answered, the French-uniformed person replied, in English, "We are of the Polish Legion. My home is in Chicago."
That evening we entrained again, and after an uneventful ride, arrived at Lyons at 7 A. M. the next morning. After a wait at the station of about two hours, we marched to some barracks which were surrounded by a high board fence. The city being quarantined on account of the influenza, we were not allowed outside of the enclosure except to go to the wash-house, about a hundred yards distant. Between the gate of the enclosure and the wash-house was a "boozerie," consequently there were a great many men who wanted to wash.
Just before leaving Lyons that evening, a doughboy "promoted" a large crate of grapes from a shipment on the station platform. At daylight the following morning we were traveling through a rather sandy country, with vineyards on both sides of the track. Then for a long distance there were Larch trees planted along the track, so close together that it was impossible to see beyond them. Later in the day we traveled along the shore of Etyde Berre Sea, with its many rice plantations, and multitude of wild ducks, then through a tunnel about two kilos long, through large groves of fig trees, finally arriving at Marseilles about noon.
Our packs were hauled in trucks to the Motor Reception Park while the men marched, giving us an opportunity to see the many fruit peddlers, the numerous fountains and squares, and the dirty, narrow streets of the city. Upon our arrival at the Motor Reception Park we were assigned to billets in French buildings. We spent the afternoon cleaning up, eating fruit purchased from peddlers, and selling all kinds of little trinkets to the S. O. S. men as German souvenirs, and explaining to them who "won the war." In the evening we were given passes into Marseilles, good until midnight. Some went to the theatre staging a burlesque show, which was very similar to an American show. Others went around the town, to the water front, and sampled all of the fruits available, none of which are as good as the fruits which can be procured in American cities. However, we found Marseilles a cosmopolitan city, both in regard to civilians and soldiers. The main streets were very much like the streets of an American city.
Early in the afternoon of October 31st we were marched to the ambulances, and busied ourselves looking over the machines preparing for the start. During the evening we looked around the immediate vicinity of the Motor Park and sampled the vintage of southern France.
At 8:00 A. M., on November 1st, the convoy of 29 ambulances left the park in a gentle shower, but before traveling very far it became a regular cloudburst, with a strong wind. The first day's drive was over very good roads, in a narrow valley, with high, rocky hills and peaks in the distance and an occasional village at the foot of the hills. We stopped the first night just outside of St. Aminol, a very small village, and being the first American soldiers who had stopped near there, we were enthusiastically received by the mademoiselles, and invited to visit the town.
During the next day we passed through Avignon, where we were given flowers by French children. We crossed several suspension bridges over streams flowing into the Rhone River, and drove for miles through vineyards, with their beautiful red and yellow leaves. We saw many wine presses, most of which were operated by women, in fact a greater part of the manual labor was done by the women. We stopped for the night near Valence, a city of many narrow crooked streets, beautiful squares and fountains. We saw there many patterns of Val lace.
Leaving Valence at 7 A. M. November 3rd, we passed through St. Symphone on a market day. The farm products and animals were lined up along the street; vegetables piled on the sidewalk, while the pigs, geese and calves were in excelsior-lined crates and baskets. We arrived at Lyons in the afternoon and drove down one of the main streets—and it was agreed by all that they had never seen so many beautiful ladies in a similar length of time, not even in America. We stopped for the night at a French Barracks, another prison, the city still being under quarantine. Lyons is built at the junction of the Rhone and Prome rivers, the different parts of the city being connected by many bridges, one the Pont du President Wilson, which was dedicated July 14th, 1918.
It was raining when we left Lyons the next morning, and the roads were very rough. As it was necessary to have the curtains of the ambulances up all day, we could see very little of the country until we got to Dijon, where we stopped for the night. From Dijon, we traveled over fairly good roads through a rolling country similar to Kansas, stopping on the night of November 5th at Chaumont, at which place is located Headquarters, A. E. F.
We left Chaumont at 7:30 A. M. on November 6th, passing through Langres with its fort. By afternoon we had arrived back to the part of the country which was strewn with barbed wire entanglements, trenches and other preparations for combat, and late in the evening arrived at Fontaine Brilliante.
Had we never seen any of France but the northern devastated part, we would have always wondered why the French fought so hard, but now we can easily see the reason.
A CASUAL IN THE S. O. S.
Upon the conclusion of the 139th Amb. Co.'s part in the Argonne drive, the company was assembled at Neuvilly. Here, orders were given for all men who needed medical attention to report for examination, and the Casual, after living on corn beef and hard tack once a day, no sleep to speak of, and some experience with gas, concluded that he needed an overhauling. Accordingly he went before the M. D., was sentenced to the field hospital, and there being no field hospital in action, was sent to Evacuation No. 9 at Vaubecourt.
The journey was made by ambulance and, upon his arrival he was taken to the receiving ward. Here he was given a hot cup of cocoa by the Red Cross girls, and a new diagnosis tag in exchange for the one he was wearing. His helmet and gas mask were discarded since they could not be of much benefit, and he was assigned a bed in Ward No. 40.
Here he lay for two days, waiting for his turn to go to the Base. The bed felt good to his weary bones after months of no bed at all to speak of. He let his mind wander to various subjects that he had been wanting to think of for two weeks, but could not for fear of that soul disturbing cry "gas!" He wondered why that shell that had distributed a mule all over the landscape, had not distributed him instead, in the same manner, and thanked the Lord that he was evidently considered of more value than the mule. The third day found him on a French hospital train, where he lived on French rations (including Vin Blanc) for two days and one night. The evening of the second day found him at Neuves. The trip was featured by the unsuccessful effort of the M. P's. to protect the fine French vineyards from being ravaged by such of the invalids as were not too sick to walk around. After all, it was a long time since they had eaten grapes, for one does not pick grapes on the front line and one used to living in that atmosphere is troubled by more serious thoughts than property rights. When he got to Neuves he was to be put through another receiving ward where the serious cases were marked with a red tag, which means immediate attention. Not being so badly off, the Casual was relieved of what clothes he still possessed and everything else except personal articles. Next, came a bath and a suit of pajamas and then, bed.
When he had gotten off the train those gallant heroes, the pirates of the S. O. S. had immediately fallen on him tooth and nail, hammer and tongs for anything in the line of souvenirs that he was likely to have on his person. Having risked a great deal of his future in obtaining these little remembrances of the Hun, he was quite naturally not very much excited over the idea of getting rid of them, and especially to people only by risking their reputation in trying to part a war-worn Sammie from his only reminders of the fight. So he stood his ground until he fell into the hands of the lieutenants of the receiving ward from whom there is no escape. Here he was separated from all his treasures with no regard whatsoever, for even common decency. He only hopes he will meet and recognize them on the other shore, especially if he could come upon them relating the story of their capture.
After the Casual was safely in bed, the ward master made a record of the principal parts of his past life, which is called a "Clinical Record." Next, a physical examination by the M. D. in charge who prescribed the treatment. The man in the next car was suffering from a fractured leg and in much pain, but he remarked to the Casual that he was glad that he seemed to be getting reasonable treatment, for some places he would have been given two O. D. pills and told to report for duty.
WEST TOWARD BAULNEY.
COMPANY INSPECTION, CAMP DONIPHAN, OKLA.
The Casual was put in Class C and had an in and out life of it. The food was good but very little of it, at least, to a man with an appetite. Occasionally there was a battle royal when enough parties had saved up sufficient prune seeds to make an effective barrage, but when there were no prune seeds, the time passed very slowly. The Casual went from Class C to Class B in two weeks, and three weeks more of it found him ready to depart for a Replacement Camp. When this time came, he was issued a new outfit and put in a bunch of 40 men who were under the tender care of a sergeant. That worthy one drew the rations and marched the detail to the train. Side door Pullmans, this time. Quite different from first class. Here the motto "Cheveaux 8, Hommes 40" was faithfully lived up to, but the Casual thought the 40 hommes was a great deal over estimated. The seating proved uncomfortable, so with much labor, seats were built around the sides and through the center from stones and lumber, policed from an American yard. Immediately after the job was done, an officer entered and informed the sergeant that all the material policed should be considered under the order of "As You Were." But he did not wait to see if his orders were carried out, and the works were camouflaged with blankets. However, the suspense proved too great, and the stuff was returned for fear of the consequences. It is worthy of note that the car was never inspected.
The train started, snail fashion, after the manner of French trains and at one of the stops, a vin barrel was tapped, to the benefit of all concerned in the tapping. The destination proved to be Toul, where the Casual was put in a company and given the rest of his equipment and was on his way back to his company the next day.
An hour and a half later, he pulled in after an eight kilo hike, glad to be home and ready to eat some of the good old steaks. No more casual life for him.
PERSHING REVIEWS THE 35th DIVISION
No day could have been more typical of France than the day of the Divisional Review, Monday, February 17th, 1919. There was a steady fall of rain, and the low-scudding clouds threw a dampened aspect upon the scene.
The Sanitary Train, led by Maj. Oliver C. Gebhart, left Aulnois at 10:00 A. M. The distance of ten kilometers to the reviewing field between the villages of Vignot and Boncourt was made under every disadvantage of muddy roads and the heavy pour of rain. The field itself, located on a broad stretch of the Meuse basin, was mush-like with mire and patched with pools of water.
General Pershing, with the Prince of Wales, rode onto the field at 1:30 o'clock, while the entire division stood at attention. The salute to the Commander-in-Chief was played by a detachment of picked buglers, and as the General and his party rode around the entire division from right to left, the band, stationed on the right, rendered "God Save the King," in honor of England's young prince.
The columns of the Division were drawn up into platoon fronts, the Sanitary Train being stationed between the Artillery, on the left, and the Machine Gun, Signal Corps and Infantry Regiments on the right. After riding around the Division, General Pershing and his party personally inspected each platoon, winding back and forth, asking questions of the company commanders and speaking with the men.
Having completed the personal inspection, the General and his party took position in the reviewing stand on the right. At the command "Pass in Review" by the Division Commander, each battalion executed successively "Squads Right," and swept down the field in a line of platoons. It was indeed a most impressive sight, and, although the sky was cast heavy with low-hanging clouds, the sun, as if to lend color to an already beautiful picture, broke through and shone for a few moments. Then, as each column swung out upon its own way home, the rain began again. As the last regiment passed in review, the Division was halted while the General and Prince spoke a few words of praise for the splendid showing of the Division, and of its work in battle.
Although participation in this great event required that the men wear full packs for almost nine hours without removing them, and undergo a hike of twenty kilos in the rain, not a man regretted the experience. It will be long remembered with pride by those who took part.
FROM COUSANCES TO AULNOIS
The signing of the Armistice on November 11th, left the company at Cousances, occupying an old, dismantled factory. It was a most unsatisfactory place and there were practically no accommodations of any kind. Winter was upon us. The open barn lofts were too breezy for comfort, and there existed a little feeling of uneasiness, as days passed by and still we did not move.
After a couple of weeks, however, we packed up and moved to the small village of Ernecourt, situated about 12 kilos southeast of Cousances. Remaining here for only a few days, we again moved on to Aulnois, where the remainder of the time in this area was spent.
THE HOME GOING
Aulnois may have been a disappointment or the men may have thought it satisfactory. Anyway, when the Sanitary Train moved into its area it was a typical example of many of the other villages that they had found over-run with dirt and French children.
It was not long after their cow-shed and hay-loft billets were made as comfortable as possible, until the full force was out with brooms, shovels and trucks, and soon the village took on an altogether different appearance. The natives no doubt imagined that these veterans were a Brigade of White Wings, or perhaps some Convict Labor Battalion and perhaps they failed to appreciate the work, even after their little "burg" was transformed into a decent place in which to dwell. Well, "san-ferrie-Anne," this was the Sanitary Train, the 110th, at that.
Three months were the people of the village honored with the presence of this hearty crew, and ere the end of the first month, they had decided that the Americans were not so barbarious after all, and began to feel content as the nice shining francs jingled in their jeans. The farmers foresaw the necessity of doubling the next year's crop of Pomm-de-terres, and the breweries of Commercy and Bar-le-Duc wondered at the enormous consumption of their bottled products.
Still, after all, the stay in this area was very different from what those on furloughs found at Aix-les-Bains, who, upon returning, usually suffered an attack of the blues. Each company had work to do. The Field Hospitals occupied the buildings on the hill just above the town and were working day and night. The ambulance companies were evacuating the entire Division, and the efficiency with which both performed their duties was known throughout the Divisional area.
There are a few things that will tend to remind the men of the company of their stay here, in the days when all incidents of the A. E. F. will be pleasant memories. Christmas, and the dawning of the New Year were celebrated here. These events are made more memorable because of one fact, if no other; the cooks went out of their way to prepare the dishes that, standing out above all else in the Christmas spirit of the Yank, are to him ever associated with home, a full stomach and celebrations. Colonel Wooley left the train for another command, and Madam Bon left her establishment among the boys and was married. However, she continued to sell a few bottles of beer after closing hours.
It was while here in Aulnois that the Commanding General of the A. E. F., accompanied by the Prince of Wales, reviewed the Division. And last, but by no means least, the long expected news reached us that the old 35th Division was ordered home. Accordingly, though sometime later, preparations for the first move were began, and on the evening of the 9th of March, the men bade farewell to the little village, and climbed aboard boxcars for the long ride to the Le Mans Embarkation Area.
FROM AULNOIS TO "CIVIES"
It was with a willing hand and a happy heart that we prepared to leave Aulnois-Sous-Vertuzey, where we had spent a "weary waiting period" of over three months, and when the evening of March 9th rolled around, we were all packed up and "rearin' to go." All medical property, extra clothing, etc., had been turned in, so that there was very little to pack except the office records and our personal belongings. Of this we were duly thankful.
We entrained at Lerouville at 2 o'clock on the morning of March 10th, bound for St. Corneille, in the Le Mans area, riding as usual in box cars. The trip was characteristic of French train service—SLOW—in fact on the second day of the trip we only made about 12 miles the whole day. We finally arrived at St. Corneille, a clean little French village, on the 13th, and for the next three weeks "waited" some more. The only part of the company who were busy was the office force, and they were exceedingly so, for there were passenger lists to be made out, besides innumerable other rosters and reports. Of course there were the usual physical examinations, "cootie" inspections, and a "shot in the arm," and these things helped to occupy our time.
Our next lap toward home started on April 5th, and the next morning found us at the immense camp of St. Nazaire, our Port of Embarkation. What a thrill went through us as we looked out onto the ocean again, especially when we knew that we were soon to cross the gang-plank, "the bridge whose western end is America!" It must be said here that St. Nazaire is a wonderfully efficient camp. For instance, each kitchen in the camp can feed as many as ten thousand men in a little more than an hour's time. At this camp we were examined and de-cootieized some more, but our stay was short, and on April 12th we glued our eyes on the bulletin board, which read "110th Sanitary Train embarks at 11:30 A. M., April 14th, U. S. S. Antigone." That was "the thrill that comes once in a lifetime."
On the dock, before embarking, we were treated to hot chocolate, cookies and tobacco by the "Y" girls. Then the time that we had been waiting for for eleven months came, and we crossed the gang-plank "Homeward Bound." On account of storms just off the coast, our start was delayed until 3 A. M. on April 16th, and when we awoke that morning we were almost out of sight of land. Strange to say, there were no "heartaches" when "Sunny France" faded away behind us, for ahead of us was "God's Country," the land where mothers, fathers, wives and sweethearts were waiting for us. That first day out was a memorable one for most of us. The sea was rough, and that evening no one doubted but that every fish in the vicinity of the ship went to sleep with his hunger entirely appeased. Nothing more needs to be said. By the next morning the sea had calmed down, and the remainder of the voyage was a delightful one, with clear skies and bright sunshine. The "Y," Red Cross and Knights of Columbus assisted a great deal in making the trip a pleasant one, by distributing fruit, candy, magazines and books, and with a "movie" show every evening. The men were allowed to take trips down into the engine room, which was indeed an interesting and instructive sight.
Early on the morning of Sunday, April 27th, we steamed up Hampton Roads, at Newport News, Virginia, and at about 10:30 once more planted our feet on the soil of "Uncle Sam." The streets of Newport News were lined with people as we marched from the dock to Camp Stuart, about five miles away, and as one fellow remarked, "I saw more good looking girls on that march than during my whole time in France." Here's to the United States and her people, for there's no others like them.
The greater part of our four days at Camp Stuart was spent in getting new clothing, for every soldier was newly outfitted from head to foot before he left that camp. So it was a spic and span company that boarded the train on Friday afternoon, May 2, bound for Camp Funston, our demobilization camp. That is, there were about seventy of the company to go to Camp Funston, for the company was separated at Camp Stuart, and each man was sent to the demobilization camp nearest his home. The homes of many of our replacements were in the East. The trip across the states in that fast American train was an enjoyable one, especially so because of the reception given us by the people at the cities where we stopped. At each large city a Red Cross canteen entertained us with homemade sandwiches, coffee and pie. Some entertainment.
Our trip across the States took us via West Virginia, Cincinnati, Indianapolis and Chicago. Late on the afternoon of Sunday, May 4th, we left Chicago for Kansas City, and it was then that our hearts started to miss a beat now and then, for we were getting close to home. What a sight greeted our eyes as the train drew into the station at Second and Washington, Kansas City, Kansas. The station platform was a solid mass of people, each one trying to pour out a larger amount of "greeting" than anyone else. When the train finally stopped and we piled out—well, no words can tell what that reunion meant. Each fellow and his folks know. We stayed at Kansas City about four hours, and during that time, besides visiting our folks, our mothers gave us a delightful breakfast at the Masonic Temple, with a dance afterwards. Then we went on to Camp Funston, stopping several hours at Topeka, where a number of the men lived.
Our stay at Funston was short, but strenuous. We were not allowed to leave our barrack, for there were a thousand and one different papers, it seemed, that each man had to sign. Then, too, we turned in our pack, and all other equipment except our clothing and personal effects.
It was a wonderful feeling when, on the morning of May 9th, 1919, just a year to the day from the time we left Camp Doniphan for overseas service, we marched up to the Personnel Office to receive our discharges. We could hardly believe it was true. We filed in—soldiers, and a few minutes later came out—civilians.
We're glad we served our country when she needed us, and we're glad "it's over over there." It's just as many an A. E. F. man has said, "We wouldn't take a million dollars for our experiences over there, but we wouldn't give a nickel with a hole in it for any more like them."
FICKLE WOMEN
It either was Tom Keene, Henry George or some other good nickel seller that once said, "Women thou art fickle things," and to come right down to it the old boy was about right. Even in this war we have found that the fair sex is not overcoming this weakness, in fact woman today is worse than she was yesterday.
In the days of old the men would do daring acts to win the hand of fair lady. If he went on a crusade and brought back a string of dragon heads she would marry him. They would live happily till some other daredevil comes along with long wavy hair and two strings of dragon heads. Right away friend wife drops a Sedlitz powder in his "vin-rouge." A few days finds hubby pushing up daisies and the handsome stranger is seen playing a guitar under the widow's window, she encouraging him by dropping roses.
Now today he pops the question, she says, "But we won't have the knot tied till you come back from the war." While he was putting the half karat on that special finger he began to figure how long it would take him to kill off the population of Germany at the rate of five thousand a day and get back to the ideal of his dreams. He goes across the pond and receives his sweet weekly letter till one day he gets one that makes him think that he is opening some other fellow's mail.
She had not waited to see how many "Dutch" helmets and medals he would bring home but had gone before the altar with some guy who couldn't enlist on account of a thick head.
It's a wonder we ever won the war with such moral support as this coming through the mail. In this company alone, which has a strength of only one hundred and twenty-three men, eleven per cent were jilted in this way. All of them will probably not die old bachelors, but it will take some pretty strong bait to get these fish to nibble again.