TRANSCRIBED FROM THE FAYETTEVILLE DAILY DEMOCRAT NOVEMBER 6, 1918 P. 4
October 6, 1918.
Dear Mrs. Benbrook:
I was very much pleased to get your letter, for you haven’t any idea how lonesome a fellow gets here in France; how good it makes him feel to get a letter from home. We are so far away that it takes thirty-five days for a letter to reach me from Fayetteville.
I am now on the front, and have been for a month; was in the thick of the American drive that took place week before last, in which we were so successful, taking 13,000 prisoners and driving the Germans back a considerable distance. This is the American salient, and we are opposite Louvain, but I can’t tell you exactly where I am.
Nothing in my life has impressed me as the night of that great battle. I am enclosing diagram showing where I was. At 2 p.m. I received orders to report to Engineers Headquarters at once. When I arrived there I was told that the drive was to start that night, and I was to take a company of engineers (there was a captain and five other engineer lieutenants but I drew the lot to go up) and proceed that night up to the first line; to patrol and keep open the road which would be subject to shell fire from the Germans.
The night was so dark that you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, and it was raining torrents. I got my men into position; that is, they were scattered along the road, hiding in shell holes and anything that afforded the slightest protection. We waited from ten until 2 a.m. standing in mud up to our ankles, and our nerves stretched almost to the breaking point, for everything was still and peaceful and you would never known that you were on a battle field. This was my first time in battle, and I must admit that, at first, I felt a bit shaky.
At 1 a. m. our artillery opened up, and I never expect to witness such a spectacle as that was. Our guns were massed and we had thousands of them; they had never been used in such numbers before. The noise was terrific and the whole countryside was a fiery furnace, making the night as bright as day.
At four in the morning our boys went over the top, the Germans did not stand a chance. The engineers had an immense job to open up the road, filling the shell hole craters and mine holes in order that the artillery could press forward and the ambulances and supplies could also keep up with the advancing army. The barbed wire was so thick that I almost tore all my clothes off, but we had to get it out of the way. There were great mine holes where the Germans had exploded great mines, large enough to hide, a two-story house in.
The next day I explored the German lines and was amazed to see such magnificent military engineering. Their trenches are steel and concrete all of a permanent character; and every thing was connected up for telephone and electric lights and all possible comforts. Further back were their living quarters, also built of concrete, but very comfortable and pretty. They had summer homes and flowers; in fact, you would almost believe yourself to be in a city park.
The trenches in front are all shot to pieces for we sent over an immense amount of shells. There are human bones and skeletons everywhere. War now is so terrible that it is an awful crime to subject man to its ravages. I hope that the future generations will never have to face any more of them.
We are now living in dugouts about four miles back from the front, but we are near enough to be shelled every day. At this very moment, there are German airplanes overhead and I have to be very careful to shade the light. In fact, I’ve had to put out the candle twice while writing this letter, for they came down so close. It is most interesting to watch the shells burst, and it is comparatively safe, for when they get close we dive for a dugout.
The Germans are licked but do not know it. They have no “pep” and surrender on the slightest provocation. I “expect” the war to be over in a few months, at least by spring, for the Germans have lost their morale and man power.
Tomorrow is Sunday but that is like any other day to us; and as I must be up and doing at five-thirty, I must hurry to bed. I would be most pleased to hear from you again, Mrs. Benbrook, and best wishes to all, I am,
Your friend,
Roland.
NOTES: Roland Adolphe Lea, formerly of Fayetteville, Arkansas, was writing to Mrs. Benbrook of Fayetteville. Mrs. Dorothy Benbrook was very active sending letters, books and magazines to the service members from Fayetteville. Roland was born on September 10, 1889 in Lyons, Kansas and died on September 26, 1968 in St. Louis, Missouri. He served as a 2nd. Lt. Co. B. 524th Engineers. The 524th Engineers was an African American unit. Roland was described as being of medium height and weight with light gray eyes and brown hair. He is buried in the Oak Grove Cemetery in Bel-Nor, Missouri.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
October 6, 1918.
Dear Mrs. Benbrook:
I was very much pleased to get your letter, for you haven’t any idea how lonesome a fellow gets here in France; how good it makes him feel to get a letter from home. We are so far away that it takes thirty-five days for a letter to reach me from Fayetteville.
I am now on the front, and have been for a month; was in the thick of the American drive that took place week before last, in which we were so successful, taking 13,000 prisoners and driving the Germans back a considerable distance. This is the American salient, and we are opposite Louvain, but I can’t tell you exactly where I am.
Nothing in my life has impressed me as the night of that great battle. I am enclosing diagram showing where I was. At 2 p.m. I received orders to report to Engineers Headquarters at once. When I arrived there I was told that the drive was to start that night, and I was to take a company of engineers (there was a captain and five other engineer lieutenants but I drew the lot to go up) and proceed that night up to the first line; to patrol and keep open the road which would be subject to shell fire from the Germans.
The night was so dark that you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, and it was raining torrents. I got my men into position; that is, they were scattered along the road, hiding in shell holes and anything that afforded the slightest protection. We waited from ten until 2 a.m. standing in mud up to our ankles, and our nerves stretched almost to the breaking point, for everything was still and peaceful and you would never known that you were on a battle field. This was my first time in battle, and I must admit that, at first, I felt a bit shaky.
At 1 a. m. our artillery opened up, and I never expect to witness such a spectacle as that was. Our guns were massed and we had thousands of them; they had never been used in such numbers before. The noise was terrific and the whole countryside was a fiery furnace, making the night as bright as day.
At four in the morning our boys went over the top, the Germans did not stand a chance. The engineers had an immense job to open up the road, filling the shell hole craters and mine holes in order that the artillery could press forward and the ambulances and supplies could also keep up with the advancing army. The barbed wire was so thick that I almost tore all my clothes off, but we had to get it out of the way. There were great mine holes where the Germans had exploded great mines, large enough to hide, a two-story house in.
The next day I explored the German lines and was amazed to see such magnificent military engineering. Their trenches are steel and concrete all of a permanent character; and every thing was connected up for telephone and electric lights and all possible comforts. Further back were their living quarters, also built of concrete, but very comfortable and pretty. They had summer homes and flowers; in fact, you would almost believe yourself to be in a city park.
The trenches in front are all shot to pieces for we sent over an immense amount of shells. There are human bones and skeletons everywhere. War now is so terrible that it is an awful crime to subject man to its ravages. I hope that the future generations will never have to face any more of them.
We are now living in dugouts about four miles back from the front, but we are near enough to be shelled every day. At this very moment, there are German airplanes overhead and I have to be very careful to shade the light. In fact, I’ve had to put out the candle twice while writing this letter, for they came down so close. It is most interesting to watch the shells burst, and it is comparatively safe, for when they get close we dive for a dugout.
The Germans are licked but do not know it. They have no “pep” and surrender on the slightest provocation. I “expect” the war to be over in a few months, at least by spring, for the Germans have lost their morale and man power.
Tomorrow is Sunday but that is like any other day to us; and as I must be up and doing at five-thirty, I must hurry to bed. I would be most pleased to hear from you again, Mrs. Benbrook, and best wishes to all, I am,
Your friend,
Roland.
NOTES: Roland Adolphe Lea, formerly of Fayetteville, Arkansas, was writing to Mrs. Benbrook of Fayetteville. Mrs. Dorothy Benbrook was very active sending letters, books and magazines to the service members from Fayetteville. Roland was born on September 10, 1889 in Lyons, Kansas and died on September 26, 1968 in St. Louis, Missouri. He served as a 2nd. Lt. Co. B. 524th Engineers. The 524th Engineers was an African American unit. Roland was described as being of medium height and weight with light gray eyes and brown hair. He is buried in the Oak Grove Cemetery in Bel-Nor, Missouri.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT