TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ARKANSAS DEMOCRAT SEPTEMBER 12, 1918 P. 6
The other night I, with five other soldiers, was resting after a particularly hard day of fighting. The Germans had retreated out of range of our big guns, and as we had been fighting almost ceaselessly for two or three days, all were resting a bit before advancing after the retreating enemy. I had been standing talking with some of the boys. There were six of us in the bunch, and as my feet were sore and tired, I laid down on the ground to rest. It was a pretty moonlight night and we could plainly hear and see an aeroplane coming, but paid no attention to it other than to comment on the fact that it could be so plainly seen—it was about 2 o’clock a.m.—and was flying low. We all thought it was an allied plane doing sentry duty over “No Man’s Land,” but the next thing we knew bombs were falling everywhere. It was a German raider and he was having a merry time of it. The five boys who were standing up were instantly killed and I was blown “sky high.” I was lying on the very edge of a shelving ditch and one of the bombs fell under the shelf, and when it exploded I started on a trip to the moon. I fell back into the ditch, a fact that undoubtedly saved me from the bombs that were thrown later. I was so stunned and dazed by the force of the explosion that I did not know clearly what had happened for half an hour or more, and although we were bombed twice more. I never suffered anything worse than being knocked down the last time by the force of the explosion. I have only a painful case of shell-shock as a result of my part in it, and will have to remain in the hospital for a while.
I have seen some rather exciting things of late, and some sights that I would rather forget, if I could. I have seen men and horses in every stage of death and dying and smelled the most horrible of odors, the stench of decomposed flesh.
When we boys get back home there will be a decided change in us, for there is nothing that more completely changes one than a little touch of the front in action.
You can find all manner of German equipment, guns, ammunition, etc., that the Boches have thrown away in their precipitate retreat.
I am in an American hospital two or three hundred miles behind the front, and will stay until I recover from my shock. I am perfectly all right in every way and am in no danger whatever.
BRYAN HERRINGTON
NOTES: This partial letter was written by John Bryan Herrington to his parents Mr. and Mrs. J. Lee. Herrington. He was born on June 10, 1896 in Grapevine, Arkansas and died on July 23, 1973 in St Louis, Missouri. He is buried in the Jefferson Barracks, National Cemetery in St. Louis. His military headstone identifies him as Mo US Army serving in World War I. He served in the old Second Arkansas Infantry and saw service on the Mexican border before enlisting for service in WW I. Herrington grew up in Cleveland County.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
The other night I, with five other soldiers, was resting after a particularly hard day of fighting. The Germans had retreated out of range of our big guns, and as we had been fighting almost ceaselessly for two or three days, all were resting a bit before advancing after the retreating enemy. I had been standing talking with some of the boys. There were six of us in the bunch, and as my feet were sore and tired, I laid down on the ground to rest. It was a pretty moonlight night and we could plainly hear and see an aeroplane coming, but paid no attention to it other than to comment on the fact that it could be so plainly seen—it was about 2 o’clock a.m.—and was flying low. We all thought it was an allied plane doing sentry duty over “No Man’s Land,” but the next thing we knew bombs were falling everywhere. It was a German raider and he was having a merry time of it. The five boys who were standing up were instantly killed and I was blown “sky high.” I was lying on the very edge of a shelving ditch and one of the bombs fell under the shelf, and when it exploded I started on a trip to the moon. I fell back into the ditch, a fact that undoubtedly saved me from the bombs that were thrown later. I was so stunned and dazed by the force of the explosion that I did not know clearly what had happened for half an hour or more, and although we were bombed twice more. I never suffered anything worse than being knocked down the last time by the force of the explosion. I have only a painful case of shell-shock as a result of my part in it, and will have to remain in the hospital for a while.
I have seen some rather exciting things of late, and some sights that I would rather forget, if I could. I have seen men and horses in every stage of death and dying and smelled the most horrible of odors, the stench of decomposed flesh.
When we boys get back home there will be a decided change in us, for there is nothing that more completely changes one than a little touch of the front in action.
You can find all manner of German equipment, guns, ammunition, etc., that the Boches have thrown away in their precipitate retreat.
I am in an American hospital two or three hundred miles behind the front, and will stay until I recover from my shock. I am perfectly all right in every way and am in no danger whatever.
BRYAN HERRINGTON
NOTES: This partial letter was written by John Bryan Herrington to his parents Mr. and Mrs. J. Lee. Herrington. He was born on June 10, 1896 in Grapevine, Arkansas and died on July 23, 1973 in St Louis, Missouri. He is buried in the Jefferson Barracks, National Cemetery in St. Louis. His military headstone identifies him as Mo US Army serving in World War I. He served in the old Second Arkansas Infantry and saw service on the Mexican border before enlisting for service in WW I. Herrington grew up in Cleveland County.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT