TRANSCRIBED FROM THE ARKANSAS DEMOCRAT SEPTEMBER 25, 1918 P. 5
At last the 153d Infantry is settled in France, even if we are scattered all around.
Headquarters is at one place, the first battalion is at another and also different battalions are scattered separately into companies over their town, and then the company is divided into platoons and they are all in different billets. So you see we are all here but by no means together. It is quite inconvenient, but we know now we are truly in France where the war is.
My lodging place is in a French peasant's barn with the floor with a little straw on it for a bed. This is better than no straw at all any way. We all like it at night, at any rate.
We boys have had some of the most laughable experiences since we have been in France trying to talk to these people who are the most congenial people we have ever had any dealing with. The best they can do for us is only too little for them, and my, how they appreciate the smallest kindness shown them, and they do not forget it even if it is only for drawing a bucket of water for one of them. The funniest experience that any of us have had was the other night when Wallace McCleish tried to buy some fried eggs from one of the madams. He did not know the French word for egg, so he squatted and jumped up and cackled and pointed to his mouth and chewed. The madam laughed at him, but he got the eggs and that was more than the rest of us have done so far. All the madams in the neighborhood knew Cheishy now, and every time they pass our billet they cackle, and it has become a joke with all of us.
Since we left the post of embarkation the only time we have been short of food was the last three days, when we almost had to live off French scenery. It happened like this: When we left the port of debarkation we drew travel rations for three days, which consisted of corned beef, canned tomatoes, pork and beans, bread, and a few cans of jam (enough to put a good taste in our mouths after each meal). These rations were to last us until we got to our island station. When we got here we found the billeting officer through some mistake of someone, did not know we were coming, and besides the best motor trucks had been sent up on the line and the ones they were using were in bad order, ones that could not be depended on. As soon as we arrived they got busy trying to supply us with rations, but because we were so scattered around and the trucks would not haul fast enough we had to do without for two days. But, mind you, not a man in this company complained one bit, but just took it as one of the hardships of war. But every mother's son of us thought of each of our mother's good cooking, as we often do.
As to our trip across the pond I can not say much because should I do so it would be cut out by the censor, but I can say that we had a good trip. For the first three days it was hot, which made it pretty tough, but after we got further north it cooled off and the rest of the voyage was a pleasant one for some, and to some it was a case of eat and then go feed it to the fishes. Do you understand?
Oh, yes. I almost forgot to tell you how we traveled overland. the conveyance they call a train over here reminded me of Christmas time when I used to hang up my stocking and wake up with a train in it. We loaded into small box cars with this stenciled on the outside of the, "Hommes 40, ou chevaux 8," translated means 40 men or 8 horses. The trip was rough and very little sleeping was done, but again no man complained one bit. The beautiful French scenery helped matters though on the trip.
The strangest thing about it all is we are nearer the war then we ever were and yet we do not get a bit of war news. The war may be over for all we know, but we still have a good idea that it won't be until we get on the line. then watch out, Boches, we are going to wind up the watch on the Rhine, and then go in and play "The Star-Spangled Banner" on the kaiser's piano. Sounds good, eh?
Another thing that I noticed so much was the work the brave French women do. It is nothing strange to see an old woman, seemingly 60 years old, out in the field plowing or gathering grain. Just the other day I passed an old woman that looked every bit of 60, with a big gunny sack on her back and a big basket on her arm. she must have had at least 100 pounds in all, and she was walking just like she was going to a fire. Everybody over here works. Truly the American women would be ashamed of themselves if they could see the French women hustle. Maybe should some of our sisters see some of the things we boys have seen they would not hesitate to wash dishes and clean house, as some of them detest. They don't know the war is on compared to these people.
I think we are going to leave some of our boys here when we get mustered out after the war is over if things progress as they have since we've been here. I think the French mademoiselles will have them captured and mark them "P. of W," (prisoner of war). The first thing one of these girls ask you is "Aves-vous une American fiancee?" and if you have a ring on your finger they won't believe you if you say "non." So we have learned to remove our rings before we talk to them. Get the idea?
Well, it is about time to go get the beans, so will save some for next time. Tell everybody (big, little, old and young) to write to all of us and don't forget to put the smiles in them.
Your friend,
The Company Clerk
NOTES: The First Arkansas Infantry Regiment, Arkansas National Guard, when nationalized into federal service at Camp Beauregard, Louisiana in the fall of 1917, was reformed as the 153rd Infantry. This letter was written by the Company Clerk of Company C., 153rd Infantry. The unidentified clerk was writing to the people of Clark County, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT
At last the 153d Infantry is settled in France, even if we are scattered all around.
Headquarters is at one place, the first battalion is at another and also different battalions are scattered separately into companies over their town, and then the company is divided into platoons and they are all in different billets. So you see we are all here but by no means together. It is quite inconvenient, but we know now we are truly in France where the war is.
My lodging place is in a French peasant's barn with the floor with a little straw on it for a bed. This is better than no straw at all any way. We all like it at night, at any rate.
We boys have had some of the most laughable experiences since we have been in France trying to talk to these people who are the most congenial people we have ever had any dealing with. The best they can do for us is only too little for them, and my, how they appreciate the smallest kindness shown them, and they do not forget it even if it is only for drawing a bucket of water for one of them. The funniest experience that any of us have had was the other night when Wallace McCleish tried to buy some fried eggs from one of the madams. He did not know the French word for egg, so he squatted and jumped up and cackled and pointed to his mouth and chewed. The madam laughed at him, but he got the eggs and that was more than the rest of us have done so far. All the madams in the neighborhood knew Cheishy now, and every time they pass our billet they cackle, and it has become a joke with all of us.
Since we left the post of embarkation the only time we have been short of food was the last three days, when we almost had to live off French scenery. It happened like this: When we left the port of debarkation we drew travel rations for three days, which consisted of corned beef, canned tomatoes, pork and beans, bread, and a few cans of jam (enough to put a good taste in our mouths after each meal). These rations were to last us until we got to our island station. When we got here we found the billeting officer through some mistake of someone, did not know we were coming, and besides the best motor trucks had been sent up on the line and the ones they were using were in bad order, ones that could not be depended on. As soon as we arrived they got busy trying to supply us with rations, but because we were so scattered around and the trucks would not haul fast enough we had to do without for two days. But, mind you, not a man in this company complained one bit, but just took it as one of the hardships of war. But every mother's son of us thought of each of our mother's good cooking, as we often do.
As to our trip across the pond I can not say much because should I do so it would be cut out by the censor, but I can say that we had a good trip. For the first three days it was hot, which made it pretty tough, but after we got further north it cooled off and the rest of the voyage was a pleasant one for some, and to some it was a case of eat and then go feed it to the fishes. Do you understand?
Oh, yes. I almost forgot to tell you how we traveled overland. the conveyance they call a train over here reminded me of Christmas time when I used to hang up my stocking and wake up with a train in it. We loaded into small box cars with this stenciled on the outside of the, "Hommes 40, ou chevaux 8," translated means 40 men or 8 horses. The trip was rough and very little sleeping was done, but again no man complained one bit. The beautiful French scenery helped matters though on the trip.
The strangest thing about it all is we are nearer the war then we ever were and yet we do not get a bit of war news. The war may be over for all we know, but we still have a good idea that it won't be until we get on the line. then watch out, Boches, we are going to wind up the watch on the Rhine, and then go in and play "The Star-Spangled Banner" on the kaiser's piano. Sounds good, eh?
Another thing that I noticed so much was the work the brave French women do. It is nothing strange to see an old woman, seemingly 60 years old, out in the field plowing or gathering grain. Just the other day I passed an old woman that looked every bit of 60, with a big gunny sack on her back and a big basket on her arm. she must have had at least 100 pounds in all, and she was walking just like she was going to a fire. Everybody over here works. Truly the American women would be ashamed of themselves if they could see the French women hustle. Maybe should some of our sisters see some of the things we boys have seen they would not hesitate to wash dishes and clean house, as some of them detest. They don't know the war is on compared to these people.
I think we are going to leave some of our boys here when we get mustered out after the war is over if things progress as they have since we've been here. I think the French mademoiselles will have them captured and mark them "P. of W," (prisoner of war). The first thing one of these girls ask you is "Aves-vous une American fiancee?" and if you have a ring on your finger they won't believe you if you say "non." So we have learned to remove our rings before we talk to them. Get the idea?
Well, it is about time to go get the beans, so will save some for next time. Tell everybody (big, little, old and young) to write to all of us and don't forget to put the smiles in them.
Your friend,
The Company Clerk
NOTES: The First Arkansas Infantry Regiment, Arkansas National Guard, when nationalized into federal service at Camp Beauregard, Louisiana in the fall of 1917, was reformed as the 153rd Infantry. This letter was written by the Company Clerk of Company C., 153rd Infantry. The unidentified clerk was writing to the people of Clark County, Arkansas.
TRANSCRIBED BY CAROLYN YANCEY KENT