TRANSCRIBED FROM THE DEMOCRAT JANUARY 2, 1919. P 4
Another 10 days will find us securely planted on the banks of the Rhine—nonchalanty surveying the pride of the Boche’s heart—our 75’s, 155’s, 210’s and 14-inch naval guns, with full magazines, pointed Berlinward. It is certainly going to be an awful blow to their Prussian pride and egotism having the American army so maliciously desecrating their national anthem, “Watch on the Rhine.”
Our division is famous inthe States as it is in the A.E.F., for Belleau Wood, Chateau Thierry, Soissons, St. Mihiel, the Champagne at Mont Blanc and the last drive along the Meuse, was selected as one of the few United States units to follow up the German evacuation. We were very fortunate for being selected, and much envied by theother less fortunate divisions. It is understood that we are to guard one of three principal bridgeheads across the Rhine, probably the middle bridge. How long we willbe stationed there is purely problematical commensurate with further peace parleys and revolutionary developments in Germany. To say the least, we expect to be here through Xmas, possibly longer. Personally I believe we will be in Europe two or three months yet. By that time I will have been quite a traveled man—England, France, Belgium, Luxemburg, Alsace and Germany. After that I would like to visit “Sunny Italy”—and then forever and anon, God’s own country the U.S.A., for me.
Since 11 a.m., November 11, we have been living, apparently in a different world so unaccustomed to the hush that has fallen with such suddenness on our former work. There is no noise, no speculation on the imminence of death, and at night we sleep with an eased mind. No longer do we expect hourly the hum of the Boche aeroplane motors and the violent anti-aircraft barrage. Peace lies heavy on out troops, so weird that it is a little oppressive. The whole company seems placid and at ease. The French civilians, mostly peasants, and are being repatriated and sent back towards home by the Boche. All along the roads they come in twos, larger groups, and occasionally a long string of them carrying their few belongings (you can imagine Hun generosity leaving them more than few) but invariably they sport the tri-color and the American flags, singing gaily the “Star Spangled Banner.” They appear cheerful, and are grateful to the United States army for clearing this section of the enemy and making peace possible. Knowing well the devastated condition of the towns they tell me they are going to, my heart goes out in sympathy to them, for I know any number of the villages they mention that are devoid of a single structure. Just picture these poor peasants, after suffering the misery and deprivations of an enemy prisoner camp, freed, repatriated and to return to their former homes with only ruins to welcome them. I tell you that the folks back home will never realize just what this war meant to France and the French people. Some of your pacifists and conscientious objectors who let up such a howl when they were put on a flour and sugar ration should have lived on one of these towns near here—a punishment befitting their kind.
Our ration trucks, staff cars and ambulances travel at night with headlights on full force, which formerly constituted an offense justifying the sentries to shoot the lights out or even the occupants of the car. Ammunition trains are empty and motionless, not a single observation balloon is to be seen nor a single aeroplane in the sky. We no longer see the long columns of artillery and infantry battalions marching up to take their positions opposite the enemy of humanity. Field hospitals are practically desolate, dressing room hold only a few cheerful orderlies, and the idlest man in France is the forward artillery observer.
I attended a peace selebration a few nights ago. France fairly bristled with peace celebration for several days, and if they were all like the one I saw, I can assure you that the little republic put on some demonstration. The one I witnessed was certainly an inspiring sight. An odd feature of this, along the front line near (CENSORED), was that the Germans as well as the Americans celebrated. All along our lines bonfires, rockets, flares and vocal discourses attended the joy of the soldiers in the victory we have won, at this point the Germans also sent up rockets and lighted flares. Further back in a once rather large town American, France and British marched side by side; all day bands played and soldiers marched through the streets but there were few spectators as the city has virtually no civilian population. In France it is called the underground city—maybe you can locate the city by its war appellation.
We are faring better on our rations since entering the towns hastily vacated by the Germans. For instance in this town they left carloads of potatoes and hogsheads of genuine sauer kraut. They had planted and cultivated fine gardens and here red cabbage, cauliflower, and onions and such are plentiful. You can bet this outfit is living high now, though we have not encountered any of the famous lager beer that we have been contemplating with an increasing thirst.
Our next move from here is into Belgium, hence through Luxemburg and eventually to well into German territory. The trip should be a very interesting one, and it will be a treat to get back into towns that are not shot to pieces. We expect warm receptions through Belgium, of course we do not expect banquets, feasts and welcome demonstrations on the Rhine. That being enemy country and a forced occupation, naturally they will hold us in contempt for a while, but by our clean, gentlemanly conduct, demeaner and discipline we intend to and will ingratiate ourselves into their good graces before we are there long. The American army will reflect the high ideals and principles of the American people on enemy as well as allied territory. Our whole country can feel sure that there will be no pillaging or ravishing in Germany by our troops. One of the greatest honors that can come to any man after the war is all over is to be able to say “I was in the Second division (Regulars) during the war against Germany.
I am certainly proud that I was selected over so many others to take the assignment I have and will always cherish the memory of my associates, brother officers, and the trials and hardships that we have been through the past six months. As to our accomplishments, I feel history will do justice. No body of men that ever lived could have been assigned harder and more hazardous tasks than have fallen to the Second division, and no body of men could have met and discharged their duties more faithfully and courageously than has the Second division. General Bundy’s reply to the French general at Chateau Thierry on the night of May 31 will live in history a close parallel to the famous statements of Lawrence, Farragut and Stephen Decatur. When all the facts and details of America’s activities in this war are officially recorded. I honestly believe the Second division will come in for the largest share of the credit for successful prosecution of the cause. With such convictions in my mind, is it any wonder that I feel proud that I am a part of such an organization.
Now that it is all over except the actual signing of peace, I know that you will all want to know when I will be back. The question of demobilization is a big one and requires considerable planning and a clear insight into the economic and industrial conditions at home. To discharge the entire armed force of the country would turn the States into bedlam, a mad house. I think the commercial needs will be paramount, then probably a preference to the men who have seen the longest foreign service. Should they adopt this rule, I would be among the “First hundred thousand” to return. If the divisions are sent back in the order in which they arrived in France, we will be the fourth to go, so in either event I will be among the favored few.
NOTES: Lieutenant Weber Ira Mitchell was writing to his sister, Mrs. J. S. Flynn of McGehee, Arkansas. He departed the US for France on December 24, 1917. He was a graduate of the officers’ training camp at Fort Roots, Arkansas He returned to Camp Pike after the war and was in charge of athletics for a time. He was born on June 24, 1891 in Mississippi and died on November 9, 1936 in Memphis, Tennessee. He is buried in the Forest Hill Cemetery Midtown in Memphis. He was described as being of medium height and build with brown eyes and hair.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
Another 10 days will find us securely planted on the banks of the Rhine—nonchalanty surveying the pride of the Boche’s heart—our 75’s, 155’s, 210’s and 14-inch naval guns, with full magazines, pointed Berlinward. It is certainly going to be an awful blow to their Prussian pride and egotism having the American army so maliciously desecrating their national anthem, “Watch on the Rhine.”
Our division is famous inthe States as it is in the A.E.F., for Belleau Wood, Chateau Thierry, Soissons, St. Mihiel, the Champagne at Mont Blanc and the last drive along the Meuse, was selected as one of the few United States units to follow up the German evacuation. We were very fortunate for being selected, and much envied by theother less fortunate divisions. It is understood that we are to guard one of three principal bridgeheads across the Rhine, probably the middle bridge. How long we willbe stationed there is purely problematical commensurate with further peace parleys and revolutionary developments in Germany. To say the least, we expect to be here through Xmas, possibly longer. Personally I believe we will be in Europe two or three months yet. By that time I will have been quite a traveled man—England, France, Belgium, Luxemburg, Alsace and Germany. After that I would like to visit “Sunny Italy”—and then forever and anon, God’s own country the U.S.A., for me.
Since 11 a.m., November 11, we have been living, apparently in a different world so unaccustomed to the hush that has fallen with such suddenness on our former work. There is no noise, no speculation on the imminence of death, and at night we sleep with an eased mind. No longer do we expect hourly the hum of the Boche aeroplane motors and the violent anti-aircraft barrage. Peace lies heavy on out troops, so weird that it is a little oppressive. The whole company seems placid and at ease. The French civilians, mostly peasants, and are being repatriated and sent back towards home by the Boche. All along the roads they come in twos, larger groups, and occasionally a long string of them carrying their few belongings (you can imagine Hun generosity leaving them more than few) but invariably they sport the tri-color and the American flags, singing gaily the “Star Spangled Banner.” They appear cheerful, and are grateful to the United States army for clearing this section of the enemy and making peace possible. Knowing well the devastated condition of the towns they tell me they are going to, my heart goes out in sympathy to them, for I know any number of the villages they mention that are devoid of a single structure. Just picture these poor peasants, after suffering the misery and deprivations of an enemy prisoner camp, freed, repatriated and to return to their former homes with only ruins to welcome them. I tell you that the folks back home will never realize just what this war meant to France and the French people. Some of your pacifists and conscientious objectors who let up such a howl when they were put on a flour and sugar ration should have lived on one of these towns near here—a punishment befitting their kind.
Our ration trucks, staff cars and ambulances travel at night with headlights on full force, which formerly constituted an offense justifying the sentries to shoot the lights out or even the occupants of the car. Ammunition trains are empty and motionless, not a single observation balloon is to be seen nor a single aeroplane in the sky. We no longer see the long columns of artillery and infantry battalions marching up to take their positions opposite the enemy of humanity. Field hospitals are practically desolate, dressing room hold only a few cheerful orderlies, and the idlest man in France is the forward artillery observer.
I attended a peace selebration a few nights ago. France fairly bristled with peace celebration for several days, and if they were all like the one I saw, I can assure you that the little republic put on some demonstration. The one I witnessed was certainly an inspiring sight. An odd feature of this, along the front line near (CENSORED), was that the Germans as well as the Americans celebrated. All along our lines bonfires, rockets, flares and vocal discourses attended the joy of the soldiers in the victory we have won, at this point the Germans also sent up rockets and lighted flares. Further back in a once rather large town American, France and British marched side by side; all day bands played and soldiers marched through the streets but there were few spectators as the city has virtually no civilian population. In France it is called the underground city—maybe you can locate the city by its war appellation.
We are faring better on our rations since entering the towns hastily vacated by the Germans. For instance in this town they left carloads of potatoes and hogsheads of genuine sauer kraut. They had planted and cultivated fine gardens and here red cabbage, cauliflower, and onions and such are plentiful. You can bet this outfit is living high now, though we have not encountered any of the famous lager beer that we have been contemplating with an increasing thirst.
Our next move from here is into Belgium, hence through Luxemburg and eventually to well into German territory. The trip should be a very interesting one, and it will be a treat to get back into towns that are not shot to pieces. We expect warm receptions through Belgium, of course we do not expect banquets, feasts and welcome demonstrations on the Rhine. That being enemy country and a forced occupation, naturally they will hold us in contempt for a while, but by our clean, gentlemanly conduct, demeaner and discipline we intend to and will ingratiate ourselves into their good graces before we are there long. The American army will reflect the high ideals and principles of the American people on enemy as well as allied territory. Our whole country can feel sure that there will be no pillaging or ravishing in Germany by our troops. One of the greatest honors that can come to any man after the war is all over is to be able to say “I was in the Second division (Regulars) during the war against Germany.
I am certainly proud that I was selected over so many others to take the assignment I have and will always cherish the memory of my associates, brother officers, and the trials and hardships that we have been through the past six months. As to our accomplishments, I feel history will do justice. No body of men that ever lived could have been assigned harder and more hazardous tasks than have fallen to the Second division, and no body of men could have met and discharged their duties more faithfully and courageously than has the Second division. General Bundy’s reply to the French general at Chateau Thierry on the night of May 31 will live in history a close parallel to the famous statements of Lawrence, Farragut and Stephen Decatur. When all the facts and details of America’s activities in this war are officially recorded. I honestly believe the Second division will come in for the largest share of the credit for successful prosecution of the cause. With such convictions in my mind, is it any wonder that I feel proud that I am a part of such an organization.
Now that it is all over except the actual signing of peace, I know that you will all want to know when I will be back. The question of demobilization is a big one and requires considerable planning and a clear insight into the economic and industrial conditions at home. To discharge the entire armed force of the country would turn the States into bedlam, a mad house. I think the commercial needs will be paramount, then probably a preference to the men who have seen the longest foreign service. Should they adopt this rule, I would be among the “First hundred thousand” to return. If the divisions are sent back in the order in which they arrived in France, we will be the fourth to go, so in either event I will be among the favored few.
NOTES: Lieutenant Weber Ira Mitchell was writing to his sister, Mrs. J. S. Flynn of McGehee, Arkansas. He departed the US for France on December 24, 1917. He was a graduate of the officers’ training camp at Fort Roots, Arkansas He returned to Camp Pike after the war and was in charge of athletics for a time. He was born on June 24, 1891 in Mississippi and died on November 9, 1936 in Memphis, Tennessee. He is buried in the Forest Hill Cemetery Midtown in Memphis. He was described as being of medium height and build with brown eyes and hair.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT