TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ARKANSAS DEMOCRAT NOVEMBER 30, 1918, P. 9
This morning our school, the one which we have started in the regiment for the noncoms, was interrupted by a most fiendish blowing of whistles, many whistles, large and small, shrilling and booming. We knew that this extravagance would never be indulged in by Frenchmen unless something most extraordinary had happened. Brown and Major Byrd came strolling out on the field and informed us that the German military leaders had signed an armistice. In fact, she had until 11 o’clock today to decide.
We knew the military situation fairly well, and knew we were going to force a decision before a very long time. We all were hoping against hope that the 346th would get a chance in the line. It is possible that we may get some little action yet. It is my belief (this, of course, is unofficial) that there will be much police work to do on the continent of Europe before America’s interests are thoroughly safeguarded. For instance, Germany, the Austria-Hungary country and Russia will have to be regulated before we can “call it a day.”
I must tell you about an incident at Bordeaux the other night. I had reported to our divisional headquarters which was a considerable distance from regimental headquarters, many miles, and I was spending the afternoon and night at Bordeaux. We arrived at Bordeaux at noon, had a most excellent lunch for four francs, served in courses in true French style at one of the best restaurants in France. Then we strolled about the city. I was especially attracted by a picture in an art store. Bought it and sent it to you. A poilu standing respectful and unafraid before the altar of a cathedral, the evening light filtering in through the richly colored glass and showing his face set in lines of courage, determination and high purpose. By his side knelt his baby, her head bowed in prayerful resignation. It was evidently their last visit to the church before his return to the front. It was not a masterpieces, as front. It was not a masterpiece, as have anything flattering to say about it. I know only it appealed very strongly to me in sentiment, and I know that you will see something in it.
We arrived at the hotel and I went up to my room. When I came down to the lobby, after about an hour’s rest, I found the whole city in an uproar. The news had come that our fellows had taken Sedan, that the whole German line had given away, that Germany had signed the armistice. In front of the Hotel de Bordeaux is a large square or plaza. Several thousand people were crowding one another in the square, waiting for news from La Petice Gironde, a newspaper whose office adjoins the hotel. They were cheering the Americans, singing patriotic songs and having the biggest kind of a time. They were eager to fall on our necks at the slightest pretext, and we had to be extremely careful to offer no provocation. It was a typical French crowd, very much like a New Orleans crowd—friendly, good-natured, noisy, in constant ferment. Finally we went off to dinner. When we returned an about an hour the crowd had increased in numbers and enthusiasm. Imagine the singing of La Marseillaise’ by thousands of Frenchmen, burning with the spirit of victory after four years of grueling, blighting war that had deprived many a loved one. It was magnificent. Of course, all of us Americans joined in and swelled the chorus.
And then I hastily gathered together about six or eight American officers, some infantrymen, some naval officers, all quite mellow, and we burst into song that is truly characteristic of the American army, that most of the French knew and love, “Hail, Hail the gangs all here.” You should have heard that crowd. Before we had finished the first rendition American officers and soldiers of all rank had crowded around, true to the call, there was a colonel lurking on the outskirts singing wildly as anybody else. At the repetition we had hundreds of Americans and thousands of French singing with us. We, the Americans, then led off with “La Marseillaise.” Then you should have heard those Frenchies. How they did make the welkin ring. Then we sang the “Star-Spangled Banner,” with every French soldier standing at salute, and every citizen uncovered. By the gods, it was quite wonderful. I should like to see Paris tonight. They are going to put on a show.
I am wondering just what these developments will lead to. When shall we get home, or shall you be able to come over here?
NOTES: 1st Lt. Joseph Holiday DuPuy was writing to his wife in Little Rock, Arkansas. The Democrat editor noted that this is probably the first letter received in Little Rock after the armistice. DuPuy was born on July 31, 1889 in Louisiana and died on April 10, 1981 in Florida. He was an instructor with the 346th regiment. Prior to his enlistment he was associated with the McMillan Publishing Company. He is buried in the Oakland Cemetery in DeLand, Florida. His military headstone identifies him as a 1st Lt serving in the U S Army in World War I.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
This morning our school, the one which we have started in the regiment for the noncoms, was interrupted by a most fiendish blowing of whistles, many whistles, large and small, shrilling and booming. We knew that this extravagance would never be indulged in by Frenchmen unless something most extraordinary had happened. Brown and Major Byrd came strolling out on the field and informed us that the German military leaders had signed an armistice. In fact, she had until 11 o’clock today to decide.
We knew the military situation fairly well, and knew we were going to force a decision before a very long time. We all were hoping against hope that the 346th would get a chance in the line. It is possible that we may get some little action yet. It is my belief (this, of course, is unofficial) that there will be much police work to do on the continent of Europe before America’s interests are thoroughly safeguarded. For instance, Germany, the Austria-Hungary country and Russia will have to be regulated before we can “call it a day.”
I must tell you about an incident at Bordeaux the other night. I had reported to our divisional headquarters which was a considerable distance from regimental headquarters, many miles, and I was spending the afternoon and night at Bordeaux. We arrived at Bordeaux at noon, had a most excellent lunch for four francs, served in courses in true French style at one of the best restaurants in France. Then we strolled about the city. I was especially attracted by a picture in an art store. Bought it and sent it to you. A poilu standing respectful and unafraid before the altar of a cathedral, the evening light filtering in through the richly colored glass and showing his face set in lines of courage, determination and high purpose. By his side knelt his baby, her head bowed in prayerful resignation. It was evidently their last visit to the church before his return to the front. It was not a masterpieces, as front. It was not a masterpiece, as have anything flattering to say about it. I know only it appealed very strongly to me in sentiment, and I know that you will see something in it.
We arrived at the hotel and I went up to my room. When I came down to the lobby, after about an hour’s rest, I found the whole city in an uproar. The news had come that our fellows had taken Sedan, that the whole German line had given away, that Germany had signed the armistice. In front of the Hotel de Bordeaux is a large square or plaza. Several thousand people were crowding one another in the square, waiting for news from La Petice Gironde, a newspaper whose office adjoins the hotel. They were cheering the Americans, singing patriotic songs and having the biggest kind of a time. They were eager to fall on our necks at the slightest pretext, and we had to be extremely careful to offer no provocation. It was a typical French crowd, very much like a New Orleans crowd—friendly, good-natured, noisy, in constant ferment. Finally we went off to dinner. When we returned an about an hour the crowd had increased in numbers and enthusiasm. Imagine the singing of La Marseillaise’ by thousands of Frenchmen, burning with the spirit of victory after four years of grueling, blighting war that had deprived many a loved one. It was magnificent. Of course, all of us Americans joined in and swelled the chorus.
And then I hastily gathered together about six or eight American officers, some infantrymen, some naval officers, all quite mellow, and we burst into song that is truly characteristic of the American army, that most of the French knew and love, “Hail, Hail the gangs all here.” You should have heard that crowd. Before we had finished the first rendition American officers and soldiers of all rank had crowded around, true to the call, there was a colonel lurking on the outskirts singing wildly as anybody else. At the repetition we had hundreds of Americans and thousands of French singing with us. We, the Americans, then led off with “La Marseillaise.” Then you should have heard those Frenchies. How they did make the welkin ring. Then we sang the “Star-Spangled Banner,” with every French soldier standing at salute, and every citizen uncovered. By the gods, it was quite wonderful. I should like to see Paris tonight. They are going to put on a show.
I am wondering just what these developments will lead to. When shall we get home, or shall you be able to come over here?
NOTES: 1st Lt. Joseph Holiday DuPuy was writing to his wife in Little Rock, Arkansas. The Democrat editor noted that this is probably the first letter received in Little Rock after the armistice. DuPuy was born on July 31, 1889 in Louisiana and died on April 10, 1981 in Florida. He was an instructor with the 346th regiment. Prior to his enlistment he was associated with the McMillan Publishing Company. He is buried in the Oakland Cemetery in DeLand, Florida. His military headstone identifies him as a 1st Lt serving in the U S Army in World War I.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT