TRANSCRIBED FROM THE NEWPORT DAILY INDEPENDENT JANUARY 3, 1919 P. 1
Toul, France, Dec. 8, 1918.
Dear Friend: I suppose you will be surprised to hear from me, but nevertheless I am writing. I am stationed for the time being in Toul, France. It is a little town, and needless to say, a very dull one. I think we will leave for Germany in a week or so. I have had some experiences since I left the states. It took us 14 days to cross the ocean. There was nothing to the trip until we got in the Bay of Biscay. Here we encountered five submarines, but they did not fire a torpedo. I think they came up to see what was on the sea, and when they ascertained they again disappeared in the sea. We had a convoy of about 25 torpedo boat destroyers. They dropped about 40 depth bombs in the sea and claim to have destroyed two of the subs. We landed at Brest and stayed there four days. We didn’t have any barracks to sleep in there so had to pitch our little tents in a mud field. We slept on the ground and about midnight it began to rain. At one o’clock our tent was full of water, so that ended the sleeping. We got out and stood in the rain the balance of the night. It rained every day we were there and of course our stay was not very pleasant. We left there in “cattle cars” and stopped at another place for about a week. My company left me in this town (Chateau Du Loix) on detached service. I have never seen my company since. I don’t know where they went or where they are now. A few days after they left, I, with three others were sent up to the front (Verdun), There was a lively time going on up there and I will never forget my first day. I never heard so much noise in my life, but I got used to the noise and “ducking shells.” My face would not have a bit of “respect” for the “mud” when a shell would explode too close to me. Just fall right down in it. By the time night would fall I would resemble a mud baby more than anything else. Then too, the Germans would shoot us a few gas shells every now and then. Imagine one sleeping with a gas mask on. I never did get used to that. I was sleeping in a building one night when half of it was blown away but fortunately for me I was in the half that remained. I won’t tell you what I thought or what I said when this happened, but rest assured it was a plenty. I was working between the Verdun front and Toul. I came very near getting knocked off (as we call it over here), the very last night of the war. I left Verdun that morning and came to Toul, intending to spend the night at Toul but no such luck, for almost as soon as I got to Toul I was sent to the front. A convoy train was passing along the road I was traveling and the Germans had sighted it, and was shelling it. The big shells were bursting all around me, but I pulled through somehow or other. I got up to the American artillery and maybe they were not pounding the Germans, 2,800 cannons barking at one time. Some noise too. The flashes from the guns and shells made it almost as bright as day. It was a wonderful sight, even in all of the horribleness. The Americans were sending over at least 8 shells to the Germans’ one.
I never realized what war was when I was in the states, but now I know and I hope it is over for all time. I have stood up in the rain and marched in the mud all night many times. The boys that didn’t come over don’t realize how lucky they are for it was not any play over here. I was in hopes I would get home soon, but it looks like May or June now, for the Second Army is going to Germany.
Lots of the boys have had a good time here. They have never been out of Paris and I have never so much as seen Paris. I think I played the army pretty lucky. Don’t you? Two months after I got in, I was on the sea and two weeks after I landed I was at the front. Not many of the boys got along so fast.
Write to me for I am lonely and in a lonesome land.
Sincerely,
Harry E. Lynn,
Headquarters Second Army American Exp. Forces, A. P. O. 918, France.
NOTES: This letter was written by Harry Lynn of Newport, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY LINDA MATTHEWS
Toul, France, Dec. 8, 1918.
Dear Friend: I suppose you will be surprised to hear from me, but nevertheless I am writing. I am stationed for the time being in Toul, France. It is a little town, and needless to say, a very dull one. I think we will leave for Germany in a week or so. I have had some experiences since I left the states. It took us 14 days to cross the ocean. There was nothing to the trip until we got in the Bay of Biscay. Here we encountered five submarines, but they did not fire a torpedo. I think they came up to see what was on the sea, and when they ascertained they again disappeared in the sea. We had a convoy of about 25 torpedo boat destroyers. They dropped about 40 depth bombs in the sea and claim to have destroyed two of the subs. We landed at Brest and stayed there four days. We didn’t have any barracks to sleep in there so had to pitch our little tents in a mud field. We slept on the ground and about midnight it began to rain. At one o’clock our tent was full of water, so that ended the sleeping. We got out and stood in the rain the balance of the night. It rained every day we were there and of course our stay was not very pleasant. We left there in “cattle cars” and stopped at another place for about a week. My company left me in this town (Chateau Du Loix) on detached service. I have never seen my company since. I don’t know where they went or where they are now. A few days after they left, I, with three others were sent up to the front (Verdun), There was a lively time going on up there and I will never forget my first day. I never heard so much noise in my life, but I got used to the noise and “ducking shells.” My face would not have a bit of “respect” for the “mud” when a shell would explode too close to me. Just fall right down in it. By the time night would fall I would resemble a mud baby more than anything else. Then too, the Germans would shoot us a few gas shells every now and then. Imagine one sleeping with a gas mask on. I never did get used to that. I was sleeping in a building one night when half of it was blown away but fortunately for me I was in the half that remained. I won’t tell you what I thought or what I said when this happened, but rest assured it was a plenty. I was working between the Verdun front and Toul. I came very near getting knocked off (as we call it over here), the very last night of the war. I left Verdun that morning and came to Toul, intending to spend the night at Toul but no such luck, for almost as soon as I got to Toul I was sent to the front. A convoy train was passing along the road I was traveling and the Germans had sighted it, and was shelling it. The big shells were bursting all around me, but I pulled through somehow or other. I got up to the American artillery and maybe they were not pounding the Germans, 2,800 cannons barking at one time. Some noise too. The flashes from the guns and shells made it almost as bright as day. It was a wonderful sight, even in all of the horribleness. The Americans were sending over at least 8 shells to the Germans’ one.
I never realized what war was when I was in the states, but now I know and I hope it is over for all time. I have stood up in the rain and marched in the mud all night many times. The boys that didn’t come over don’t realize how lucky they are for it was not any play over here. I was in hopes I would get home soon, but it looks like May or June now, for the Second Army is going to Germany.
Lots of the boys have had a good time here. They have never been out of Paris and I have never so much as seen Paris. I think I played the army pretty lucky. Don’t you? Two months after I got in, I was on the sea and two weeks after I landed I was at the front. Not many of the boys got along so fast.
Write to me for I am lonely and in a lonesome land.
Sincerely,
Harry E. Lynn,
Headquarters Second Army American Exp. Forces, A. P. O. 918, France.
NOTES: This letter was written by Harry Lynn of Newport, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY LINDA MATTHEWS