BACCARAT
May 30th, 1918
The uniforms we wear as well as the losses we have already sustained make us appreciate the significance of Memorial Day. General Menoher left the arrangements for a proper celebration of the day to the Chaplains. So I called a meeting at which all were present. It was an easy matter to select speakers from our various commands to address meetings of soldiers in every village in which elements of the Division were quartered. The regimental bands of the Infantry and Artillery Regiments were to be sent by trucks from one station to another, so that all of our soldiers should have the benefit of their services.
The main celebration was to be at Baccarat where our Division Headquarters were, and the burden of arranging for it fell on the 165th, now in reserve. The dead of our Division, mainly men of the 84th Brigade, which has been in this Sector since the beginning of March, are buried in a Military Cemetery; and our first duty was to pay them solemn honors. Polychrom of Company A made wreaths from the flowers lavishly offered by the people of Deneuvre. Everybody of all ranks who could be spared was present at the ceremony, together with large number of the civilian population. Children of the town were selected to place the wreaths upon the graves of our dead, and the last resting place of our French companions was not neglected.
After the ceremony Captain Handy came to me with an invitation from General Menoher to ride back with him. General Menoher is a man who begets loyalty and confidence. Americans are better acquainted with the business type of man than the military type, and I think I can best characterize him by saying that if he were out of uniform he would impress one as a successful business man—one of the kind that can carry responsibility, give orders affecting large affairs with calmness and certainty, and still find time to be human. He is entirely devoid of posing, of vanity, or of jealousy. His only desire is to see results. Consequently his subordinates are doing magnificent teamwork, and the excellent condition of the Division is due to this factor as well as his direct care of us. We are exceedingly fortunate in having such a man to rule over us.
Colonel McCoy saw to it that the grave of every one of our dead was properly honored on this day—in Southampton, in Langres, in Ancervillers and here in Baccarat. During the afternoon he and I went to Croix-Mare; so likewise did General Menoher with Colonel MacArthur and General Lenihan with Major Conway. We found that the Curé and his parishioners, as also the French soldiers, had kept the graves there in beautiful condition—a tribute to our dead which warms our heart to the people of France.
LETTER TO A CURATE
June 10th, 1918
In spite of all you tell me I have lost, I have a stray assortment of arms and legs left, ungainly, I admit, but still serviceable, whether for reaching for the bread at messtime or for pushing me around my broad parish. I hear that I am dead—wounded—gone crazy. I hate to contradict so many good people, but I must say that I know I am alive, and that I never felt better in my life. As for the third count, perhaps I had better leave it to others to testify, but I’m no worse than I always was. I may be considered a bit off for coming over here, but that’s a decent kind of craziness, and one I am glad to see becoming quite popular.
I wish that my case could serve as a warning to good folks at home who are distracted by all sorts of rumors about their lads here. If anything happens to any one of us, the folks will hear of it from Washington within a hundred hours. If it says “Slightly Wounded,” they may take it as good news. For let me tell you, if I was worrying continually about the fate of some dear one over here, and got word he was “Slightly Wounded,” I would sigh a sigh of relief that the beloved was out of harm’s way and having a good time for a while.