The next morning—Wednesday, June 5th—we left Rest Camp No. 6, and glad we were to leave it, for a dirty, hot hole it was. We hadn’t been bombed, though the town got its usual raid, and the camp was complimented the next night by the Boche.
The hike to the station was long and hot and made without a rest. Of course, not knowing as much as they would later, the men’s packs were tremendous. The overcoat, blanket, 100 rounds of ammunition and extra shoes and rations alone are a good load, and when one adds several suits of underwear, extra toilet articles, Jenny’s sweaters, Aunt Sarah’s wristlets, a couple of cartons of cigarettes and pipe tobacco, and some chocolate, it gets tremendous. Little Effingham’s pack as usual, was down to his heels, but he stoutly refused assistance, also as usual. The company arrived at the station feeling like a dyspeptic bear with scarlet fever.
We were forthwith introduced to the famous “Hommes 40, Chevaux 8.” It was seldom that bad, but even 25 or 30 men are a tight fit in those little cattle cars, as you all can testify.
We rolled out of Havre, pursued to the last by the children and orange sellers, who seemed to spring up from the ground everywhere in Northern France.
This first trip was short. We passed from the low country into a gently rolling terrain, and at about 1 o’clock arrived at Marquise, where we detrained.
We were met by a couple of Scotch officers from the 14th Highland Light Infantry. They guided us up the road to the village where we were billeted, about two miles away. On the way one of them, Captain “Jimmie” Johnston, told us that their battalion was detailed to act as instructors for the 311th Infantry.
The first little crossroads village was our billet—Rinxent. The command “Fall out t’ right of th’ road” sounded quite welcome to the overloaded marchers and we watched the rest of the battalion march by enroute to their billets at Rety, two kilos further.
The company was scattered along the road in small billets of from ten to forty men. Company headquarters was established in the corner estaminet. This was our first introduction to French billets. The usual procedure consisted of:
1. Protest to billeting officer or N. C. O. at putting human beings into such a place. Unsuccessful.
2. Long argument with house holder, he speaking French very fast and we speaking American very loud. Usually ended by the argument of a five franc note to the frugal French peasant.