TRANSCRIBED FROM THE DAILY ARKANSAS GAZETTE SEPTEMBER 17, 1918 P. 12
Just now we over here are especially proud of our boys at the front. And yet we know not half the tears are flowing over here. We know how proud you folks at home are of the ones at the front. It has made a wonderful difference over here. The French soldier, who so valiantly fought the Hun devil back for four years, is a new man. New life and energy has been given him. He not only has heard the American with his typical braggadocia, but now he has seen him at work and knows what he can and will do. And he can begin to see the end.
To show how the sentiment is changing. I mention a little incident that occurred to me. I stopped my car in a little town a few weeks ago. I was only gone about 15 or 20 minutes, and upon returning found about a dozen little French boys jabbering to my chauffeur. I asked him if he was having a little entertainment, and he laughed. When we had started he said: Major, what do you know about this: These could not talk about anything but “le soldat American tres bon—Fini les boches!” And, believe me, since our boys have shown what an American soldier is made of, conditions have changed. The little advances made by our forces have simply worked a miracle. Now there is the greatest peace of mind because of the absolute faith in America and her Army.
You know Americans are funny people, and the people over here could not understand us. It was hustle and bustle and talk and noise, and it looked to the easy-going Frenchmen and the methodical Englishman that we were like a lot of big electric light bugs. In consequences there was a great deal of talk and suspicious surmising for a long time. We had so many here, and they were not at the front, nor in training. Neither French nor British could understand our methods and why we had so many enterprises and men scattered about, from ports to the front. But now tis different. They now see the most stupendous base port arrangements, with ships veritably dumping men and material into the ports. Another look, and from these base ports, by truck and train, are seen the best conducted lines of communication, entirely across France, that the world had ever witnessed.
The Americans perfected working plans are the admiration of everybody. There are no more doubting Thomases and no more questions as to why and when. The results are being accomplished and America is being praised and appreciated. Do not think me egotistical, as I am not puffed up. We are proud though of what has been done and of what the men are doing at the front. And we are just as proud of our work behind the lines. Some of the boys are impatient at times because they cannot catch German bombs or see the fireworks at night. But we cannot all be in the front line. Our work is caring for the ones at the front, and I feel the same way about the work at home. We must be fed, clothed and cared for. Somebody must build boats, make guns and ammunition, and they must be transported. If a small pin in a big locomotive is lost, so that the shaft revolve, and the wheels don’t turn, the whole machine is useless until the pin is restored. So we are all little pins that are necessary, be they are at home, at the front or behind the lines. It is this spirit of co-operation and the feeling that everyone has a necessary function, that will win the war. We must all do our part and we cannot all do the same part. At time it seems to me my part is one of the least necessary. And yet, it is a necessary part and I am glad to be able to do it and try to do it well. And when the war is over, and we return victorious to the dearest country of the world, it will be with great pride that we can say that we have done our best. But few of these men are egotistical, but all are proud, proud of being here, but prouder still that we are Americans!
And how is that done? How can the French care for all this increased traffic. The French do not care for it. We have almost literally taken over hundreds of miles of French double-tracked railway lines, and hundreds of American locomotives and thousands of real 8-wheeled U.S.A. cars, flat cars, coal cars, box cars, refrigerator cars, oil cars, and U.S.A. cars of every kind are in operation, hauling the millions of tons of material and equipment. Then there are thousands and thousands of trucks in operation from the bases to the front. It is wonderful.
But you should see what is happening to our roads. The French roads were beautiful water-bound macadam, but they were built for the slow-moving horse (or ox) drawn vehicles of the French. In this great big section before the war there was little or no auto traffic and so the roads, for the first three years of the war remained in splendid condition, even without maintenance. But now there is a different tale to tell. The Americans have come and with them they have brought automobiles and trucks, and the once beautiful lime rock roads of central French are rapidly passing away. Gravel and macadam will not stand the present day auto traffic. We engineers have tried to tell this to the public officials for years, but the public in general and the county commissioners in particular always know better. Macadam and gravel in Arkansas and Texas has ”had the swing” because more miles of gravel road could be built than anything else and it is the old, old story, the more miles of road, the more votes at the next election. There has been much agitation by paid agitators for good roads bond issues to be used in building mileage and not roads. Quantity has been sacrificed all over the state for quality. And now many counties are “up against it” for maintenance funds.
I have seen a great deal of central France since I came over here and am now pretty well acquainted with a big section of it. For three months (October 13 to January 13) I was in Paris. This gave me quite an opportunity to see Paris, and I took advantage of it, too. In January I was sent here as superintendent of roads for the intermediate section. Thus far my work has been largely to get ready for the future. We have done but very little road work, but have gotten materials and equipment, as far as possible, in hand for the work that must be done. The roads are getting very rough, but thus far our main efforts have been to get troops ready and to the front. Now we are beginning to organize to fix up the roads—and believe me, it is some job for the next year.
This war is teaching us some very valuable lessons in many different ways. We over here are learning that there are other people just like our people at home. They have their duties and their cares just as we have. They have their joys and sorrows. And we are being taught economy in many lines and conservation of resources. For instance, a few days ago I visited the enormous plant being erected for the repairs of motor vehicles. Under a canvas cover were two or three first class workmen busy making tables, desks, file cabinets and other what-nots in the line of office furniture. Piled high on the outside of the cabinet shop, under a canvas were all sort of packing boxes, cases and various and sundry kinds of boards. It was a typical American trash file or waste dump. Upon inspection, though, it proved to be not a waste dump at all. It was the stock pile, and the neat tables, office desks and imitation “Globe-Warnecke” sectional file cabinets were being made entirely from old packing boxes sent from America.
NOTES: This partial letter was written by Major Edgar Albert Kingsley to Little Rock Mayor Charles Taylor. Kingsley was born on March 13, 1871 in Indianapolis, Indiana and died on November 13, 1945 in Monterey County, California. He is buried in the Garden of Memories in Salinas California. His military headstone identifies him as a Texas, Major Corps of Engrs. He was Little Rock Superintendent of Public Works when he lived in Little Rock.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
Just now we over here are especially proud of our boys at the front. And yet we know not half the tears are flowing over here. We know how proud you folks at home are of the ones at the front. It has made a wonderful difference over here. The French soldier, who so valiantly fought the Hun devil back for four years, is a new man. New life and energy has been given him. He not only has heard the American with his typical braggadocia, but now he has seen him at work and knows what he can and will do. And he can begin to see the end.
To show how the sentiment is changing. I mention a little incident that occurred to me. I stopped my car in a little town a few weeks ago. I was only gone about 15 or 20 minutes, and upon returning found about a dozen little French boys jabbering to my chauffeur. I asked him if he was having a little entertainment, and he laughed. When we had started he said: Major, what do you know about this: These could not talk about anything but “le soldat American tres bon—Fini les boches!” And, believe me, since our boys have shown what an American soldier is made of, conditions have changed. The little advances made by our forces have simply worked a miracle. Now there is the greatest peace of mind because of the absolute faith in America and her Army.
You know Americans are funny people, and the people over here could not understand us. It was hustle and bustle and talk and noise, and it looked to the easy-going Frenchmen and the methodical Englishman that we were like a lot of big electric light bugs. In consequences there was a great deal of talk and suspicious surmising for a long time. We had so many here, and they were not at the front, nor in training. Neither French nor British could understand our methods and why we had so many enterprises and men scattered about, from ports to the front. But now tis different. They now see the most stupendous base port arrangements, with ships veritably dumping men and material into the ports. Another look, and from these base ports, by truck and train, are seen the best conducted lines of communication, entirely across France, that the world had ever witnessed.
The Americans perfected working plans are the admiration of everybody. There are no more doubting Thomases and no more questions as to why and when. The results are being accomplished and America is being praised and appreciated. Do not think me egotistical, as I am not puffed up. We are proud though of what has been done and of what the men are doing at the front. And we are just as proud of our work behind the lines. Some of the boys are impatient at times because they cannot catch German bombs or see the fireworks at night. But we cannot all be in the front line. Our work is caring for the ones at the front, and I feel the same way about the work at home. We must be fed, clothed and cared for. Somebody must build boats, make guns and ammunition, and they must be transported. If a small pin in a big locomotive is lost, so that the shaft revolve, and the wheels don’t turn, the whole machine is useless until the pin is restored. So we are all little pins that are necessary, be they are at home, at the front or behind the lines. It is this spirit of co-operation and the feeling that everyone has a necessary function, that will win the war. We must all do our part and we cannot all do the same part. At time it seems to me my part is one of the least necessary. And yet, it is a necessary part and I am glad to be able to do it and try to do it well. And when the war is over, and we return victorious to the dearest country of the world, it will be with great pride that we can say that we have done our best. But few of these men are egotistical, but all are proud, proud of being here, but prouder still that we are Americans!
And how is that done? How can the French care for all this increased traffic. The French do not care for it. We have almost literally taken over hundreds of miles of French double-tracked railway lines, and hundreds of American locomotives and thousands of real 8-wheeled U.S.A. cars, flat cars, coal cars, box cars, refrigerator cars, oil cars, and U.S.A. cars of every kind are in operation, hauling the millions of tons of material and equipment. Then there are thousands and thousands of trucks in operation from the bases to the front. It is wonderful.
But you should see what is happening to our roads. The French roads were beautiful water-bound macadam, but they were built for the slow-moving horse (or ox) drawn vehicles of the French. In this great big section before the war there was little or no auto traffic and so the roads, for the first three years of the war remained in splendid condition, even without maintenance. But now there is a different tale to tell. The Americans have come and with them they have brought automobiles and trucks, and the once beautiful lime rock roads of central French are rapidly passing away. Gravel and macadam will not stand the present day auto traffic. We engineers have tried to tell this to the public officials for years, but the public in general and the county commissioners in particular always know better. Macadam and gravel in Arkansas and Texas has ”had the swing” because more miles of gravel road could be built than anything else and it is the old, old story, the more miles of road, the more votes at the next election. There has been much agitation by paid agitators for good roads bond issues to be used in building mileage and not roads. Quantity has been sacrificed all over the state for quality. And now many counties are “up against it” for maintenance funds.
I have seen a great deal of central France since I came over here and am now pretty well acquainted with a big section of it. For three months (October 13 to January 13) I was in Paris. This gave me quite an opportunity to see Paris, and I took advantage of it, too. In January I was sent here as superintendent of roads for the intermediate section. Thus far my work has been largely to get ready for the future. We have done but very little road work, but have gotten materials and equipment, as far as possible, in hand for the work that must be done. The roads are getting very rough, but thus far our main efforts have been to get troops ready and to the front. Now we are beginning to organize to fix up the roads—and believe me, it is some job for the next year.
This war is teaching us some very valuable lessons in many different ways. We over here are learning that there are other people just like our people at home. They have their duties and their cares just as we have. They have their joys and sorrows. And we are being taught economy in many lines and conservation of resources. For instance, a few days ago I visited the enormous plant being erected for the repairs of motor vehicles. Under a canvas cover were two or three first class workmen busy making tables, desks, file cabinets and other what-nots in the line of office furniture. Piled high on the outside of the cabinet shop, under a canvas were all sort of packing boxes, cases and various and sundry kinds of boards. It was a typical American trash file or waste dump. Upon inspection, though, it proved to be not a waste dump at all. It was the stock pile, and the neat tables, office desks and imitation “Globe-Warnecke” sectional file cabinets were being made entirely from old packing boxes sent from America.
NOTES: This partial letter was written by Major Edgar Albert Kingsley to Little Rock Mayor Charles Taylor. Kingsley was born on March 13, 1871 in Indianapolis, Indiana and died on November 13, 1945 in Monterey County, California. He is buried in the Garden of Memories in Salinas California. His military headstone identifies him as a Texas, Major Corps of Engrs. He was Little Rock Superintendent of Public Works when he lived in Little Rock.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT