TRANSCRIBED FROM THE JONESBORO WEEKLY SUN MAY 28, 1919 P. 4
With the American Exp. Force.
March 26, 1919.
Editor the Sun:
I have been thinking for some time I could give you, for publication if you wish, a short sketch of my trip to France, together with a few experiences and impressions. There are some I would like to tell but cannot for lack of space and still others which would probably not pass the censor.
To begin without an introduction. I set sail with the “Wild Cat” or 81st Division from New York, July 31st, 1918. The first two days at sea, the weather was very rough and it goes without saying that we lost our appetite and some of us even more than that. It was told on some of the boys who were the most serious affected by the jar and knock of the ship that they called in the chaplain and had some serious words with him. There is good to be found even in “bad waves.” We sailed with a fleet of eighteen transports, all of which were in constant touch with each other, with the exception of one night for a few hours when we were lost in a thick fog. At this time Uncles Sam’s sub chasers got busy, and soon connected up with the other transports. We had constant boat drills, wore life belts day and night and were not allowed to undress at night. Days and nights passed with nothing of an attractive nature with the exception of two or three whales which were sighted, also some large schools of fish. Finally, however, we woke up on Sunday morning. August 11 and found that our transport was anchored. Late the evening before, however, we had sighted the mountains of Northern Ireland when the fog had cleared away. England’s greatest seaport town opened up to us. We were at Liverpool. Judging by the numerous flags which bore Uncle Sam’s identification, we were welcome visitors to the city. At 12 o’clock we unloaded and marched through the city, which was crowded on every street with old men, women and children waving hands and flags and yelling. The Yanks will get em! We took a fast Yorkshire passenger train which carried us through the heart of England and dropped us out at 2 o’clock the next morning at Winchester, when we rested for a few days and took another train for Southampton. Here I saw some of the first fruits of the Kaiser. While we were here a whole ship load of wounded English soldiers landed which were being carried some to their homes and others to hospitals.
At 6 o’clock in the afternoon of August 17th, we loaded on another transport and set sail across the channel for France. The next morning at early day break we found ourselves in a French port. It was Chesbourgh. Here we took a “cattle car” and sure enough felt like cattle before we reached our destination in Eastern France. Here we went into training again in a little village Bernon.
September 18th we moved up to the front and Oct. 1st we went into the trenches in the Voges mountains, 50 miles southeast of Metz. Oct. 18th we gave up this sector to the French and moved back some 40 or 50 kilos for a two week’s rest. November 1st we took another cattle car which took us to Commercy, a town 50 miles from Verdun. From this town we began a march to Verdun, marching at night and sleeping in small torn up villages at day in order to conceal our movements from the enemy.
November 4th we went into the trenches east of Verdun. We were stationed on “Dead Man’s hill, for it is a hill of shell holes and human bones. It is not an uncommon thing at all to see a human foot or head projecting from the bank. I slept in a dugout with a German skull which the French told us we could have as a souvenir.
On the morning of November 9th we were given the orders to “go over the top” at 8 o’clock. At this hour we moved out over “Dead Man’s Hill” under heavy barrage which was under control of both French and American artillery. Our division was divided into two general waves, first the assaulting wave, second, the supporting wave. The 322nd and 324th regiments and also the 318 th Machine Gun Battalion constituted the supporting wave. The Boch were taken by surprise and fled like mountain rabbits, as he did most all the time when he saw the Yanks.
Sunday night, November 10th, the 321st and 323rd regiments and the 317th Machine Gun Battalion relieved the 322nd and 324th Infantry and the 318th Machine Gun Battalion and took up the assaulting wave.
By this time the Boche had fallen back, amassed her artillery, collected machines and got “set”, we had to encounter a heavy barrage Monday night. Occasionally a gas shell fell near us. A few of our boys were slightly gassed, but the eleventh hour came, the white flag went up and it was all over in a minute. It was hard to realize, but none of us attempted to contradict the messenger.
We are now in control of Northeast France and some of us, one at any rate hopes to be In Northeast Arkansas soon.
Yours truly.
Durell Cross
Pfc. Co. A. 317th Machine Gun Bu.
A.P.O. 791 A.E.F.
NOTES: James Durell Cross was born on June 6, 1895 at Nettleton, Craighead County, Arkansas and died on September 16, 1980 at St. Louis, Missouri. He is buried in the Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery in St, Louis. His military headstone identifies him as Pfc. U.S. Army, WW I. He enlisted on September 18, 1917 and was discharged on January 28, 1919. His Pike County, Arkansas, draft card describes him as being of medium height and build with blue eyes and dark hair.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT.
With the American Exp. Force.
March 26, 1919.
Editor the Sun:
I have been thinking for some time I could give you, for publication if you wish, a short sketch of my trip to France, together with a few experiences and impressions. There are some I would like to tell but cannot for lack of space and still others which would probably not pass the censor.
To begin without an introduction. I set sail with the “Wild Cat” or 81st Division from New York, July 31st, 1918. The first two days at sea, the weather was very rough and it goes without saying that we lost our appetite and some of us even more than that. It was told on some of the boys who were the most serious affected by the jar and knock of the ship that they called in the chaplain and had some serious words with him. There is good to be found even in “bad waves.” We sailed with a fleet of eighteen transports, all of which were in constant touch with each other, with the exception of one night for a few hours when we were lost in a thick fog. At this time Uncles Sam’s sub chasers got busy, and soon connected up with the other transports. We had constant boat drills, wore life belts day and night and were not allowed to undress at night. Days and nights passed with nothing of an attractive nature with the exception of two or three whales which were sighted, also some large schools of fish. Finally, however, we woke up on Sunday morning. August 11 and found that our transport was anchored. Late the evening before, however, we had sighted the mountains of Northern Ireland when the fog had cleared away. England’s greatest seaport town opened up to us. We were at Liverpool. Judging by the numerous flags which bore Uncle Sam’s identification, we were welcome visitors to the city. At 12 o’clock we unloaded and marched through the city, which was crowded on every street with old men, women and children waving hands and flags and yelling. The Yanks will get em! We took a fast Yorkshire passenger train which carried us through the heart of England and dropped us out at 2 o’clock the next morning at Winchester, when we rested for a few days and took another train for Southampton. Here I saw some of the first fruits of the Kaiser. While we were here a whole ship load of wounded English soldiers landed which were being carried some to their homes and others to hospitals.
At 6 o’clock in the afternoon of August 17th, we loaded on another transport and set sail across the channel for France. The next morning at early day break we found ourselves in a French port. It was Chesbourgh. Here we took a “cattle car” and sure enough felt like cattle before we reached our destination in Eastern France. Here we went into training again in a little village Bernon.
September 18th we moved up to the front and Oct. 1st we went into the trenches in the Voges mountains, 50 miles southeast of Metz. Oct. 18th we gave up this sector to the French and moved back some 40 or 50 kilos for a two week’s rest. November 1st we took another cattle car which took us to Commercy, a town 50 miles from Verdun. From this town we began a march to Verdun, marching at night and sleeping in small torn up villages at day in order to conceal our movements from the enemy.
November 4th we went into the trenches east of Verdun. We were stationed on “Dead Man’s hill, for it is a hill of shell holes and human bones. It is not an uncommon thing at all to see a human foot or head projecting from the bank. I slept in a dugout with a German skull which the French told us we could have as a souvenir.
On the morning of November 9th we were given the orders to “go over the top” at 8 o’clock. At this hour we moved out over “Dead Man’s Hill” under heavy barrage which was under control of both French and American artillery. Our division was divided into two general waves, first the assaulting wave, second, the supporting wave. The 322nd and 324th regiments and also the 318 th Machine Gun Battalion constituted the supporting wave. The Boch were taken by surprise and fled like mountain rabbits, as he did most all the time when he saw the Yanks.
Sunday night, November 10th, the 321st and 323rd regiments and the 317th Machine Gun Battalion relieved the 322nd and 324th Infantry and the 318th Machine Gun Battalion and took up the assaulting wave.
By this time the Boche had fallen back, amassed her artillery, collected machines and got “set”, we had to encounter a heavy barrage Monday night. Occasionally a gas shell fell near us. A few of our boys were slightly gassed, but the eleventh hour came, the white flag went up and it was all over in a minute. It was hard to realize, but none of us attempted to contradict the messenger.
We are now in control of Northeast France and some of us, one at any rate hopes to be In Northeast Arkansas soon.
Yours truly.
Durell Cross
Pfc. Co. A. 317th Machine Gun Bu.
A.P.O. 791 A.E.F.
NOTES: James Durell Cross was born on June 6, 1895 at Nettleton, Craighead County, Arkansas and died on September 16, 1980 at St. Louis, Missouri. He is buried in the Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery in St, Louis. His military headstone identifies him as Pfc. U.S. Army, WW I. He enlisted on September 18, 1917 and was discharged on January 28, 1919. His Pike County, Arkansas, draft card describes him as being of medium height and build with blue eyes and dark hair.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT.