Dear Mother -:
This is another break in the serial I am running but I have gotten tired telling what has gone on and am full of what is going on. We crossed the Rhine at Coblenz on Friday the 13th of December at five minutes before midnight. That somehow sounds to me to be very unlucky and just now the worst thing that I can imagine happening to myself is to have to stay where I am for a long time, which certainly looks to me as tho it might happen. We are finally settled in what appear to be our permanent resting places for the occupation. Ours in a town called Kilgert (sp?) about fifteen miles or so from the Rhine in a country that resembles the Adirondacks and New Jersey rolled into one. Fine high wooded hills and lots of splendid red sticky mud. Not one redeeming feature. All the inhabitants that are left are engaged in the absorbing pastime of making the mud into little ornamental pipes and marbles which they bake and sell to the unsuspecting. I am sending you some specimens for Xmas as they are the only things I can get hold of. Some day perhaps I may get back down to Coblenz from where I may be able to send you something nice. By the way if you can think of anything nice that comes from this part of the country, Germany I mean, let me know and I will send it to you. I doubt it tho for I haven’t yet seen anything around here that I would care to carry away. I don’t blame the Dutch much for invading some other country. It took them away from home. As you can see I am very low in my mind today and probably will be for some time if it is anything like last Xmas. Somehow a whole year’s homesickness seems to catch up with me at this time of year and makes me feel like jumping in the lake. I know too now why they call it sunny France: like everything else in life it is purely a comparative matter. France is a whole lot sunnier than Germany. We left Verdun on a perfectly beautiful day the 21st of November and since then I have seen the sun exactly three times and those have never been for more than ten minutes. That is why, I suppose, that the Germans have such pink and white complexions; there is no sun to tan them.
I am enclosing some orders which give you an idea of what the 1st Division did. It is the only division that was ever cited singly by the commander in chief and this order deals with probably the most disagreeable fight I was ever in. This is all now.
Good bye. With love
Paul
The reference in the last paragraph above is to:
General Orders No. 201, dated Nov. 10, 1918, from the General Headquarters of the American Expeditionary Forces:
“1. The Commander in Chief desires to make of record in the General Orders of the American Expeditionary Forces his extreme satisfaction with the conduct of the officers and soldiers of the First Division in its advance west of the Meuse between October 4th and 11th, 1918. During this period the division gained a distance of seven kilometers over a country which presented not only remarkable facilities for enemy defense but also great difficulties of terrain for the operation of our troops.
“2. The division met with resistance from elements of eight hostile divisions, . . . The enemy chose to defend its position to the death, and the fighting was always of the most desperate kind. . . .
“3.The success of the division in driving a deep advance into the enemy’s territory enabled an assault to be made on the left by the neighboring division against the northeastern portion of the Forest of Argonne, and enabled the First Division to advance to the right and outflank the enemy’s position in front of the division on that flank.
“4. The Commander in Chief has noted in this division a special pride of service and a high state of morale, never broken by hardship nor battle.
“5. This order will be read to all organizations at the first assembly formation after its receipt.
“BY COMMAND OF GENERAL PERSHING”
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Letter written December 9, 1918
Dear Mother-:
Since we have not moved lately and are still hold down the village of Salmroh (sp?) I can continue the travels and adventures of one P. Hills. I think I was at Beaumont in (illegible) at the last writing doing a touch of artillery observation.We lived there, another lieutenant called Hatch and I, for over two months. For quarters we had a splendid dugout underneath the building the O.P. (observation post) was in the top of. It was proof against anything except the very largest shells and happily very dry and fairly warm. There was too a French O.P. nearby and the two of us messed (ate meals) with them and in fact imposed on them generally. We worked our duty in eight hour shifts since one of us had to be there all the time. I would go on at four in the morning and stay till noon when Hatch would appear and stay till eight at night when I would relieve him again and so on. The night hours were naturally by far the worst for we could have no heat or light except in the little cubby hole where the telephones were and cold wasn’t the word. Moreover outside of the regular fire works there was absolutely nothing to watch. It was just a question of keep looking and wait for something to happen and usually nothing did. Sometimes tho things would get livelier and livelier among the rifles and machine guns and then up would go a rocket of one variety or another and we would turn on all the artillery and try to see what the results would be. Some nights would be very quiet with hardly a cannon fired from ten at night until morning, others would be fairly lively almost all the time with things coming and going in fine style. However, the fire in that sector was never very heavy unless there was a barrage on and they happily were never of very long duration.
About this time it became fairly evident that the Bosche were going to attack somewhere and it was going to be a real attack since already there had been identified on a great many parts of the front units that had come from Russia. We talked about it unofficially quite a bit wondering where it would break and officially every defensive measure possible was taken all the way from Switzerland to the North Sea. Then finally it did come, about as far from us as it possibly could be and it was then that Gen. Pershing made his famous offer to Marshall Foch, and we were taken.
I was sent ahead to billet the second Battalion of the 5th (Field Artillery Brigade of the 1st Division) principally I suppose because I could speak French and also because I needed a vacation. I had been in the O.P. for two months without a break or change of any sort. Three other officers had been there with me but somehow the business hadn’t agreed with them and they had been given something a little less strenuous.
It was then that I passed thru Paris and had one day there. We were to billet in the vicinity of Gisons and it was to that town we (the billeting party) first went. It was a wonderful part of the country, by far the best I had ever been in with the City of Gisons wonderfully medieval and interesting. Wasn’t there sometime in history a Black Knight of Gisons? If not there should have been. For the place is just suited to him. Black towers, a big, dingy narrow cathedral, very narrow streets and a million crows all around.
This is all I have time for now with love Paul
Since we have not moved lately and are still hold down the village of Salmroh (sp?) I can continue the travels and adventures of one P. Hills. I think I was at Beaumont in (illegible) at the last writing doing a touch of artillery observation.We lived there, another lieutenant called Hatch and I, for over two months. For quarters we had a splendid dugout underneath the building the O.P. (observation post) was in the top of. It was proof against anything except the very largest shells and happily very dry and fairly warm. There was too a French O.P. nearby and the two of us messed (ate meals) with them and in fact imposed on them generally. We worked our duty in eight hour shifts since one of us had to be there all the time. I would go on at four in the morning and stay till noon when Hatch would appear and stay till eight at night when I would relieve him again and so on. The night hours were naturally by far the worst for we could have no heat or light except in the little cubby hole where the telephones were and cold wasn’t the word. Moreover outside of the regular fire works there was absolutely nothing to watch. It was just a question of keep looking and wait for something to happen and usually nothing did. Sometimes tho things would get livelier and livelier among the rifles and machine guns and then up would go a rocket of one variety or another and we would turn on all the artillery and try to see what the results would be. Some nights would be very quiet with hardly a cannon fired from ten at night until morning, others would be fairly lively almost all the time with things coming and going in fine style. However, the fire in that sector was never very heavy unless there was a barrage on and they happily were never of very long duration.
About this time it became fairly evident that the Bosche were going to attack somewhere and it was going to be a real attack since already there had been identified on a great many parts of the front units that had come from Russia. We talked about it unofficially quite a bit wondering where it would break and officially every defensive measure possible was taken all the way from Switzerland to the North Sea. Then finally it did come, about as far from us as it possibly could be and it was then that Gen. Pershing made his famous offer to Marshall Foch, and we were taken.
I was sent ahead to billet the second Battalion of the 5th (Field Artillery Brigade of the 1st Division) principally I suppose because I could speak French and also because I needed a vacation. I had been in the O.P. for two months without a break or change of any sort. Three other officers had been there with me but somehow the business hadn’t agreed with them and they had been given something a little less strenuous.
It was then that I passed thru Paris and had one day there. We were to billet in the vicinity of Gisons and it was to that town we (the billeting party) first went. It was a wonderful part of the country, by far the best I had ever been in with the City of Gisons wonderfully medieval and interesting. Wasn’t there sometime in history a Black Knight of Gisons? If not there should have been. For the place is just suited to him. Black towers, a big, dingy narrow cathedral, very narrow streets and a million crows all around.
This is all I have time for now with love Paul
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Letter written December 5, 1918
Dear Mother-:
This has got to be more or less of an interlude in the sad story of my life for it is an occasion. In fact one of the few ambitions of my life have been realized for yesterday we came into Germany, that is real old Germany that always has been Germany.We were, as you remember, in Luxemburg until yesterday when we started and went down to the river Moselle along which we followed until we finally crossed some little stream the name of which I don’t quite remember and were in the ancestral home of the squarehead. It was really quite a thrill that one had and if anyone had told me a month ago that I would be in Germany today I should have put them down as quite mad. We followed along the river to Treves (or Trier, in German) and from there came over to where we now are, a village called Salmohr, not far from Wittlich. It is the invasion of Germany but vastly different than I ever had any idea it would be. I am sorry that we did not get into their towns as the Bosche went out the other side to the accompaniment of machine guns, falling walls, the black smoke of melanite and dust and noise, but this way is very much more comfortable. The invasion is more in the way of pleasure trip than anything else. We arrive and billet just as we did in the French rear area town.The inhabitants are not at all ill disposed and nothing in the world can keep the glorious American high ranking buck private from making friends with every and anybody. Ten minutes after they were in Germany the streets were full of Heinies and Americans swapping cigarettes and having the time of their life. The Dutch can’t cope with the situation at all. There seems to be some mistake. For here are these soldiers whom they have heard were such savages and brutes treating them better than their soldiers would.
As a matter of fact the people can’t do enough for us and the feeling against the Kaiser among them is tremendously high. It may perhaps be different in some other parts of the country as we go farther in but just now the feeling between the invaders and the invaded is thoroughly amicable to say the least.
This is about all now --- I will write more later
With love
Paul
This has got to be more or less of an interlude in the sad story of my life for it is an occasion. In fact one of the few ambitions of my life have been realized for yesterday we came into Germany, that is real old Germany that always has been Germany.We were, as you remember, in Luxemburg until yesterday when we started and went down to the river Moselle along which we followed until we finally crossed some little stream the name of which I don’t quite remember and were in the ancestral home of the squarehead. It was really quite a thrill that one had and if anyone had told me a month ago that I would be in Germany today I should have put them down as quite mad. We followed along the river to Treves (or Trier, in German) and from there came over to where we now are, a village called Salmohr, not far from Wittlich. It is the invasion of Germany but vastly different than I ever had any idea it would be. I am sorry that we did not get into their towns as the Bosche went out the other side to the accompaniment of machine guns, falling walls, the black smoke of melanite and dust and noise, but this way is very much more comfortable. The invasion is more in the way of pleasure trip than anything else. We arrive and billet just as we did in the French rear area town.The inhabitants are not at all ill disposed and nothing in the world can keep the glorious American high ranking buck private from making friends with every and anybody. Ten minutes after they were in Germany the streets were full of Heinies and Americans swapping cigarettes and having the time of their life. The Dutch can’t cope with the situation at all. There seems to be some mistake. For here are these soldiers whom they have heard were such savages and brutes treating them better than their soldiers would.
As a matter of fact the people can’t do enough for us and the feeling against the Kaiser among them is tremendously high. It may perhaps be different in some other parts of the country as we go farther in but just now the feeling between the invaders and the invaded is thoroughly amicable to say the least.
This is about all now --- I will write more later
With love
Paul
Letter written December 3, 1918
Dear Mother -:
I think the last installment left us at the battle of Gondrecourt.That finally ended or rather the weather ended it for us for the snow got so deep that the carriages could not move and things in the maneouver line became impossible.Then I went to school which school was at Gondrecourt itself. That wasn’t bad at all, more or less of a vacation from the point of view of physical exercise but rather strong on the mental effort. We learned a lot of things we knew already and a lot more that we did not know. The schedule was usually classes and theory in the morning and firing in the afternoon. The course lasted about five weeks and was very much worth while. During the last week we were there, however, the regiment moved into line and when school was over there I went too. The battery was in the Toul sector near a town called Mandres where battallion headquarters was. No sooner had I reported than I was assigned for duty on observation from which place I think I wrote you quite a good deal.That work was wonderfully interesting and we shot Bosche and shot at Bosche to our heart’s content. It was however a little too risky to be thorough unalloyed enjoyment for two or three times we just stood still and looked at each other waiting for the end to come and wondering what it would feel like. The O.P. (observation post)was under the roof of the least destroyed building in the village of Beaumont. There was a little slit in the tiles to look out of during the daytime and rather a large hole which we looked out of at night.We were quite well equipped having all varieties of instruments and maps and were connected with every battery round and other O.P.’s by telephone. There was plenty to do which helped a bit and made the time pass quickly. During the day we made adjustments on crossroads, etc. over on the Bosche side for all the batteries and when we were not doing that, watched and tried to locate Bosche batteries. When we located one we shot him up and our work consisted in keeping the guns on the target and reporting results. There is certainly quite a satisfaction in locating some Heinie outfit who has been worrying you, proving exactly where he is and then systematically blowing him up. Sometimes, tho, Jerry would get mad and shoot back which was as disagreeable as anything could be. One morning after we had made a raid he was very mad, shooting up most everything in sight but somehow not us and we were shaking hands with ourselves wondering how long it would last when a great big black one went up right in front of the house about 200 yards away. That was the first in that particular locality and we wondered what was up.The next one was in direct line headed for us about 50 yards closer and so the next one and the next with about 30 seconds between shots. Finally one hit just in front of the house, showering dirt all over the place.The corporal and I were looking out watching things and had a fine idea just where the next one would hit. For protection we had some high grade tiles and a sheet of first class tar paper.The situation to say the least was tense. The Corp simply kept on looking and said quietly “And the next one gets us.” I have had some really narrow shaves during this performance but never did I feel as I did while we were waiting for the next one that never came. Why it didn’t come heaven only knows but I do know that during that 30 seconds and the following two minutes I lived a hundred years. It isn’t the things that happen that scare you. It’s the things that might.
I think the last installment left us at the battle of Gondrecourt.That finally ended or rather the weather ended it for us for the snow got so deep that the carriages could not move and things in the maneouver line became impossible.Then I went to school which school was at Gondrecourt itself. That wasn’t bad at all, more or less of a vacation from the point of view of physical exercise but rather strong on the mental effort. We learned a lot of things we knew already and a lot more that we did not know. The schedule was usually classes and theory in the morning and firing in the afternoon. The course lasted about five weeks and was very much worth while. During the last week we were there, however, the regiment moved into line and when school was over there I went too. The battery was in the Toul sector near a town called Mandres where battallion headquarters was. No sooner had I reported than I was assigned for duty on observation from which place I think I wrote you quite a good deal.That work was wonderfully interesting and we shot Bosche and shot at Bosche to our heart’s content. It was however a little too risky to be thorough unalloyed enjoyment for two or three times we just stood still and looked at each other waiting for the end to come and wondering what it would feel like. The O.P. (observation post)was under the roof of the least destroyed building in the village of Beaumont. There was a little slit in the tiles to look out of during the daytime and rather a large hole which we looked out of at night.We were quite well equipped having all varieties of instruments and maps and were connected with every battery round and other O.P.’s by telephone. There was plenty to do which helped a bit and made the time pass quickly. During the day we made adjustments on crossroads, etc. over on the Bosche side for all the batteries and when we were not doing that, watched and tried to locate Bosche batteries. When we located one we shot him up and our work consisted in keeping the guns on the target and reporting results. There is certainly quite a satisfaction in locating some Heinie outfit who has been worrying you, proving exactly where he is and then systematically blowing him up. Sometimes, tho, Jerry would get mad and shoot back which was as disagreeable as anything could be. One morning after we had made a raid he was very mad, shooting up most everything in sight but somehow not us and we were shaking hands with ourselves wondering how long it would last when a great big black one went up right in front of the house about 200 yards away. That was the first in that particular locality and we wondered what was up.The next one was in direct line headed for us about 50 yards closer and so the next one and the next with about 30 seconds between shots. Finally one hit just in front of the house, showering dirt all over the place.The corporal and I were looking out watching things and had a fine idea just where the next one would hit. For protection we had some high grade tiles and a sheet of first class tar paper.The situation to say the least was tense. The Corp simply kept on looking and said quietly “And the next one gets us.” I have had some really narrow shaves during this performance but never did I feel as I did while we were waiting for the next one that never came. Why it didn’t come heaven only knows but I do know that during that 30 seconds and the following two minutes I lived a hundred years. It isn’t the things that happen that scare you. It’s the things that might.
This is about all I have time to write about now but I will do some more tomorrow and try to tell you something about how we lived, ate and didn’t wash, which tho it was just our daily existence probably would be more or less interesting.
Good bye With love
Paul
Monday, December 1, 2008
Letter written November 30, 1918
Dear Mother -:
This will be more or less in the line of a second installment of the continued story I began in the last letter. As for myself just at present there is nothing new – we are still in the middle of Luxemburg and very quiet but I rather imagine that we will drag out before many more days.
We left off the last time if I remember correctly at the time we left the Luneville sector in Nov. (Paul is here relating his experiences as an officer in the U.S. Army’s First Division since beginning artillery training after receiving his commission. Before the Armistice, censorship prohibited his offering any details of operations or location in his letters home.) Well, we started from there to march to our winter quarters which were in the middle of the Meuse valley, probably the worst locality in France. At least it has that reputation for every time you even mention it to a Frenchman, he shivers, groans and makes some appropriate remark highly uncomplimentary. We were four days on the road and finally ended up in a little place about ten kilometers from Gondrecourt called Chassy. It was miserable, and medieval was the only word that describes it. I think I wrote you about it at the time for I was quite impressed and depressed also. However we started out almost immediately on a series of maneuvers which kept our minds off anything else. I don’t believe I ever worked harder or had longer hours in my life as did also all the rest of the division. In speaking about it still the men call it the Gondrecourt war and insist that it was without doubt the hardest battle they ever endured. There was one advantage, however, in that it made everything that ever followed it seem easy. That kept up until the first part of January with a welcome relief of one day off for Xmas and one for New Year’s. The weather was also in keeping with the whole performance as it alternately rained and snowed the whole time with now and then a day when it got so cold that it was almost impossible to breathe. The climate of the Meuse is more like that of Auburn than any place I have been since I left the village of the plain. I remember one day in particular we left Chassy to make a reconnaissance at four the morning. It gets light about eight at this time of the year. It was raining blue blazes and the roads were an absolute glare of ice. The major was along and all the officers of the battalion together with an immense detail of men carrying all the artillery instruments known to man. I have a hunch we looked something like the children of Israel coming out of Egypt. We rode away like blazes as the place of business was a long way off and of all the rides I ever hope to take that one wins. You could see absolutely nothing and we were supposed to be following the major. Every once in a while you would hear some one go down swoosh! Great cursings and howling would follow but those still up never stopped a second. Everyone that I saw afterward took one or more spills during that ride. Well, some of us arrived finally, the major unfortunately being one. I can see him yet as he stood there in the grey dawn with the water running off his nose and the slush into the top of his boots cussing everything under the sun and us in particular, for most of all we were late, and the others from the other brigade had gone on somewhere else. We were till noon getting that whole detail together and then having messed around for an hour or so we rode home again in the dark. Such was life but as I said everything after that seemed easy.
This is about all now but as the Ladies Home Journal says “will be continued in our next number.
This is, I think, about time to wish every one a merry Xmas tho it seems queer.
With love
Paul
This will be more or less in the line of a second installment of the continued story I began in the last letter. As for myself just at present there is nothing new – we are still in the middle of Luxemburg and very quiet but I rather imagine that we will drag out before many more days.
We left off the last time if I remember correctly at the time we left the Luneville sector in Nov. (Paul is here relating his experiences as an officer in the U.S. Army’s First Division since beginning artillery training after receiving his commission. Before the Armistice, censorship prohibited his offering any details of operations or location in his letters home.) Well, we started from there to march to our winter quarters which were in the middle of the Meuse valley, probably the worst locality in France. At least it has that reputation for every time you even mention it to a Frenchman, he shivers, groans and makes some appropriate remark highly uncomplimentary. We were four days on the road and finally ended up in a little place about ten kilometers from Gondrecourt called Chassy. It was miserable, and medieval was the only word that describes it. I think I wrote you about it at the time for I was quite impressed and depressed also. However we started out almost immediately on a series of maneuvers which kept our minds off anything else. I don’t believe I ever worked harder or had longer hours in my life as did also all the rest of the division. In speaking about it still the men call it the Gondrecourt war and insist that it was without doubt the hardest battle they ever endured. There was one advantage, however, in that it made everything that ever followed it seem easy. That kept up until the first part of January with a welcome relief of one day off for Xmas and one for New Year’s. The weather was also in keeping with the whole performance as it alternately rained and snowed the whole time with now and then a day when it got so cold that it was almost impossible to breathe. The climate of the Meuse is more like that of Auburn than any place I have been since I left the village of the plain. I remember one day in particular we left Chassy to make a reconnaissance at four the morning. It gets light about eight at this time of the year. It was raining blue blazes and the roads were an absolute glare of ice. The major was along and all the officers of the battalion together with an immense detail of men carrying all the artillery instruments known to man. I have a hunch we looked something like the children of Israel coming out of Egypt. We rode away like blazes as the place of business was a long way off and of all the rides I ever hope to take that one wins. You could see absolutely nothing and we were supposed to be following the major. Every once in a while you would hear some one go down swoosh! Great cursings and howling would follow but those still up never stopped a second. Everyone that I saw afterward took one or more spills during that ride. Well, some of us arrived finally, the major unfortunately being one. I can see him yet as he stood there in the grey dawn with the water running off his nose and the slush into the top of his boots cussing everything under the sun and us in particular, for most of all we were late, and the others from the other brigade had gone on somewhere else. We were till noon getting that whole detail together and then having messed around for an hour or so we rode home again in the dark. Such was life but as I said everything after that seemed easy.
This is about all now but as the Ladies Home Journal says “will be continued in our next number.
This is, I think, about time to wish every one a merry Xmas tho it seems queer.
With love
Paul
Letter written November 28, 1918
Dear Mother -:
Today is Thanksgiving and heavens what a difference from the preceding ones that I have had.This one is probably as peculiar and original as any could possibly be for now instead of having a wonderful dinner at Nannoo’s as I have had or a great one at Concord, N.H. or like last year taking pot luck and wondering what the war would bring, I am now a member of the victorious invading army headed for the interior of Germany. Quite a change you will have to admit. Today we are resting, that is not moving forward any more, for a couple of days at least, in the middle of the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg at a little place called Munsbach (sp?) not far happily from the city of Luxemburg. Just where we are headed for is not absolutely certain but every rumor seems to point to Coblenz as the ultimate destination of the A.E.F. (You see the censorship has been modified and we can say practically anything that goes on.) We came into Luxemburg about five days ago and I am rather keen about the country tho I do not find the people as agreeable as the French, principally I suppose for the reason that they speak sort of a bastard language, made up of every known living tongue mixed together and then distorted and naturally quite impossible to speak. Usually, however, you can find some one speaking French or English.
The country itself is beautiful but just now tremendously hard up. The H.C.L. (high cost of living?) would absolutely astound you. Bacon is 50 Frs. a pound. Soap 15 Frs a small cake, the cheapest women’s shoes 200 Frs. with men’s about 500. A suit of clothes costs the poor Luxemburger about 650 and he can’t even get an egg for breakfast unless he puts out 1½ Frs. Thank heaven tho, we are well provided for and I have everything I need for some time. Imagine trying to set up some sort of an establishment or worse than that having a large family.
I went thru the city of Luxemburg yesterday and it is a very beautiful place. Built in two sections, so to speak, with a great deep ravine dividing the two and wonderful piled up Maxfield Parrish castles hanging up on the sides of the ravine. If I get a chance to go there again I will get some pictures as it is really worthwhile remembering.
I am sorry in some ways that Carroll (brother) never got the chance to come over but on the other hand it is, I suppose better that he did not, for although it has all been a wonderful experience and worth a lifetime there have been a great many things that were neither pleasant, edifying, or elevating, and worse than that one’s sense of proportion seems permanently put out of commission; whether that will ever come back I don’t know but just now I do know that those who have been thru it all for a year or more are certainly a different lot than when they landed.
The lifting of censorship is a great relief and I am going to take advantage of it and tell you all I can but just how and where to begin leaves me in a quandary that I can’t quite cope with. I suppose I should invoke the Muse and keep up a classic trend for the adventures have all the aspects of both the travels of Ulysses and our friend Dante’s descent into the Inferno, not to mention something that if properly put out would do justice to Stephen Leacock at his best.
As you know I was commissioned here in the fall of 1917 and finally got orders to report for duty about the 15th of Oct. The place where I ended up was a little town called Valdahou (sp?) very close to the Swiss border and not far from the city of Besancon.Things were very pleasant there and the barracks were quite splendid, in fact as I look back now the men were better off than they have ever been since.The camp was on a hill and from it you could see Mont Blanc and a great deal of the Swiss Alps.
However that didn’t last overlong, for about a week later we left for the front as the first American contingent to go into line.As you can well imagine I was in a queer way, knowing about as much artillery as a pussy cat but probably more about actual conditions in line than anyone else in the regt. I was then in Batt. F of the 5th (brigade) and we had a very good crowd of officers and a fine lot of men. Taking everything as a whole we had everything except experience.
We took up positions in a sector just in front of Luneville, a very quiet one happily where they only shoot once a week to see if the guns are in order. We did a bit better than that, simply for the practice of the thing, for there was no need for the amount we fired. I spent then most of my time at the echelons or horse lines and had, taking it all in all, a fine time, tho I did work like blazes trying to catch up to the others in a knowledge of artillery.The horse lines were in a great little place, Rosieres aux Salines. We stayed in that sector about two weeks, only had three casualties which happened just as we were leaving and I think, I know for my own part, learned a lot.
This is about all now for I have got to buzz about a bit but I will write some more tomorrow and try to make it all into one continuous story, however bad in form and all it may be.
With love,
Paul
Today is Thanksgiving and heavens what a difference from the preceding ones that I have had.This one is probably as peculiar and original as any could possibly be for now instead of having a wonderful dinner at Nannoo’s as I have had or a great one at Concord, N.H. or like last year taking pot luck and wondering what the war would bring, I am now a member of the victorious invading army headed for the interior of Germany. Quite a change you will have to admit. Today we are resting, that is not moving forward any more, for a couple of days at least, in the middle of the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg at a little place called Munsbach (sp?) not far happily from the city of Luxemburg. Just where we are headed for is not absolutely certain but every rumor seems to point to Coblenz as the ultimate destination of the A.E.F. (You see the censorship has been modified and we can say practically anything that goes on.) We came into Luxemburg about five days ago and I am rather keen about the country tho I do not find the people as agreeable as the French, principally I suppose for the reason that they speak sort of a bastard language, made up of every known living tongue mixed together and then distorted and naturally quite impossible to speak. Usually, however, you can find some one speaking French or English.
The country itself is beautiful but just now tremendously hard up. The H.C.L. (high cost of living?) would absolutely astound you. Bacon is 50 Frs. a pound. Soap 15 Frs a small cake, the cheapest women’s shoes 200 Frs. with men’s about 500. A suit of clothes costs the poor Luxemburger about 650 and he can’t even get an egg for breakfast unless he puts out 1½ Frs. Thank heaven tho, we are well provided for and I have everything I need for some time. Imagine trying to set up some sort of an establishment or worse than that having a large family.
I went thru the city of Luxemburg yesterday and it is a very beautiful place. Built in two sections, so to speak, with a great deep ravine dividing the two and wonderful piled up Maxfield Parrish castles hanging up on the sides of the ravine. If I get a chance to go there again I will get some pictures as it is really worthwhile remembering.
I am sorry in some ways that Carroll (brother) never got the chance to come over but on the other hand it is, I suppose better that he did not, for although it has all been a wonderful experience and worth a lifetime there have been a great many things that were neither pleasant, edifying, or elevating, and worse than that one’s sense of proportion seems permanently put out of commission; whether that will ever come back I don’t know but just now I do know that those who have been thru it all for a year or more are certainly a different lot than when they landed.
The lifting of censorship is a great relief and I am going to take advantage of it and tell you all I can but just how and where to begin leaves me in a quandary that I can’t quite cope with. I suppose I should invoke the Muse and keep up a classic trend for the adventures have all the aspects of both the travels of Ulysses and our friend Dante’s descent into the Inferno, not to mention something that if properly put out would do justice to Stephen Leacock at his best.
As you know I was commissioned here in the fall of 1917 and finally got orders to report for duty about the 15th of Oct. The place where I ended up was a little town called Valdahou (sp?) very close to the Swiss border and not far from the city of Besancon.Things were very pleasant there and the barracks were quite splendid, in fact as I look back now the men were better off than they have ever been since.The camp was on a hill and from it you could see Mont Blanc and a great deal of the Swiss Alps.
However that didn’t last overlong, for about a week later we left for the front as the first American contingent to go into line.As you can well imagine I was in a queer way, knowing about as much artillery as a pussy cat but probably more about actual conditions in line than anyone else in the regt. I was then in Batt. F of the 5th (brigade) and we had a very good crowd of officers and a fine lot of men. Taking everything as a whole we had everything except experience.
We took up positions in a sector just in front of Luneville, a very quiet one happily where they only shoot once a week to see if the guns are in order. We did a bit better than that, simply for the practice of the thing, for there was no need for the amount we fired. I spent then most of my time at the echelons or horse lines and had, taking it all in all, a fine time, tho I did work like blazes trying to catch up to the others in a knowledge of artillery.The horse lines were in a great little place, Rosieres aux Salines. We stayed in that sector about two weeks, only had three casualties which happened just as we were leaving and I think, I know for my own part, learned a lot.
This is about all now for I have got to buzz about a bit but I will write some more tomorrow and try to make it all into one continuous story, however bad in form and all it may be.
With love,
Paul
Letter written November 28, 1918
Dear Mother -:
Today is Thanksgiving and heavens what a difference from the preceding ones that I have had.This one is probably as peculiar and original as any could possibly be for now instead of having a wonderful dinner at Nannoo’s as I have had or a great one at Concord, N.H. or like last year taking pot luck and wondering what the war would bring, I am now a member of the victorious invading army headed for the interior of Germany. Quite a change you will have to admit. Today we are resting, that is not moving forward any more, for a couple of days at least, in the middle of the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg at a little place called Munsbach (sp?) not far happily from the city of Luxemburg. Just where we are headed for is not absolutely certain but every rumor seems to point to Coblenz as the ultimate destination of the A.E.F. (You see the censorship has been modified and we can say practically anything that goes on.) We came into Luxemburg about five days ago and I am rather keen about the country tho I do not find the people as agreeable as the French, principally I suppose for the reason that they speak sort of a bastard language, made up of every known living tongue mixed together and then distorted and naturally quite impossible to speak. Usually, however, you can find some one speaking French or English.
The country itself is beautiful but just now tremendously hard up. The H.C.L. (high cost of living?) would absolutely astound you. Bacon is 50 Frs. a pound. Soap 15 Frs a small cake, the cheapest women’s shoes 200 Frs. with men’s about 500. A suit of clothes costs the poor Luxemburger about 650 and he can’t even get an egg for breakfast unless he puts out 1½ Frs. Thank heaven tho, we are well provided for and I have everything I need for some time. Imagine trying to set up some sort of an establishment or worse than that having a large family.
I went thru the city of Luxemburg yesterday and it is a very beautiful place. Built in two sections, so to speak, with a great deep ravine dividing the two and wonderful piled up Maxfield Parrish castles hanging up on the sides of the ravine. If I get a chance to go there again I will get some pictures as it is really worthwhile remembering.
I am sorry in some ways that Carroll (brother) never got the chance to come over but on the other hand it is, I suppose better that he did not, for although it has all been a wonderful experience and worth a lifetime there have been a great many things that were neither pleasant, edifying, or elevating, and worse than that one’s sense of proportion seems permanently put out of commission; whether that will ever come back I don’t know but just now I do know that those who have been thru it all for a year or more are certainly a different lot than when they landed.
The lifting of censorship is a great relief and I am going to take advantage of it and tell you all I can but just how and where to begin leaves me in a quandary that I can’t quite cope with. I suppose I should invoke the Muse and keep up a classic trend for the adventures have all the aspects of both the travels of Ulysses and our friend Dante’s descent into the Inferno, not to mention something that if properly put out would do justice to Stephen Leacock at his best.
As you know I was commissioned here in the fall of 1917 and finally got orders to report for duty about the 15th of Oct. The place where I ended up was a little town called Valdahou (sp?) very close to the Swiss border and not far from the city of Besancon.Things were very pleasant there and the barracks were quite splendid, in fact as I look back now the men were better off than they have ever been since.The camp was on a hill and from it you could see Mont Blanc and a great deal of the Swiss Alps.
However that didn’t last overlong, for about a week later we left for the front as the first American contingent to go into line.As you can well imagine I was in a queer way, knowing about as much artillery as a pussy cat but probably more about actual conditions in line than anyone else in the regt. I was then in Batt. F of the 5th (brigade) and we had a very good crowd of officers and a fine lot of men. Taking everything as a whole we had everything except experience.
We took up positions in a sector just in front of Luneville, a very quiet one happily where they only shoot once a week to see if the guns are in order. We did a bit better than that, simply for the practice of the thing, for there was no need for the amount we fired. I spent then most of my time at the echelons or horse lines and had, taking it all in all, a fine time, tho I did work like blazes trying to catch up to the others in a knowledge of artillery.The horse lines were in a great little place, Rosieres aux Salines. We stayed in that sector about two weeks, only had three casualties which happened just as we were leaving and I think, I know for my own part, learned a lot.
This is about all now for I have got to buzz about a bit but I will write some more tomorrow and try to make it all into one continuous story, however bad in form and all it may be.
With love,
Paul
Today is Thanksgiving and heavens what a difference from the preceding ones that I have had.This one is probably as peculiar and original as any could possibly be for now instead of having a wonderful dinner at Nannoo’s as I have had or a great one at Concord, N.H. or like last year taking pot luck and wondering what the war would bring, I am now a member of the victorious invading army headed for the interior of Germany. Quite a change you will have to admit. Today we are resting, that is not moving forward any more, for a couple of days at least, in the middle of the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg at a little place called Munsbach (sp?) not far happily from the city of Luxemburg. Just where we are headed for is not absolutely certain but every rumor seems to point to Coblenz as the ultimate destination of the A.E.F. (You see the censorship has been modified and we can say practically anything that goes on.) We came into Luxemburg about five days ago and I am rather keen about the country tho I do not find the people as agreeable as the French, principally I suppose for the reason that they speak sort of a bastard language, made up of every known living tongue mixed together and then distorted and naturally quite impossible to speak. Usually, however, you can find some one speaking French or English.
The country itself is beautiful but just now tremendously hard up. The H.C.L. (high cost of living?) would absolutely astound you. Bacon is 50 Frs. a pound. Soap 15 Frs a small cake, the cheapest women’s shoes 200 Frs. with men’s about 500. A suit of clothes costs the poor Luxemburger about 650 and he can’t even get an egg for breakfast unless he puts out 1½ Frs. Thank heaven tho, we are well provided for and I have everything I need for some time. Imagine trying to set up some sort of an establishment or worse than that having a large family.
I went thru the city of Luxemburg yesterday and it is a very beautiful place. Built in two sections, so to speak, with a great deep ravine dividing the two and wonderful piled up Maxfield Parrish castles hanging up on the sides of the ravine. If I get a chance to go there again I will get some pictures as it is really worthwhile remembering.
I am sorry in some ways that Carroll (brother) never got the chance to come over but on the other hand it is, I suppose better that he did not, for although it has all been a wonderful experience and worth a lifetime there have been a great many things that were neither pleasant, edifying, or elevating, and worse than that one’s sense of proportion seems permanently put out of commission; whether that will ever come back I don’t know but just now I do know that those who have been thru it all for a year or more are certainly a different lot than when they landed.
The lifting of censorship is a great relief and I am going to take advantage of it and tell you all I can but just how and where to begin leaves me in a quandary that I can’t quite cope with. I suppose I should invoke the Muse and keep up a classic trend for the adventures have all the aspects of both the travels of Ulysses and our friend Dante’s descent into the Inferno, not to mention something that if properly put out would do justice to Stephen Leacock at his best.
As you know I was commissioned here in the fall of 1917 and finally got orders to report for duty about the 15th of Oct. The place where I ended up was a little town called Valdahou (sp?) very close to the Swiss border and not far from the city of Besancon.Things were very pleasant there and the barracks were quite splendid, in fact as I look back now the men were better off than they have ever been since.The camp was on a hill and from it you could see Mont Blanc and a great deal of the Swiss Alps.
However that didn’t last overlong, for about a week later we left for the front as the first American contingent to go into line.As you can well imagine I was in a queer way, knowing about as much artillery as a pussy cat but probably more about actual conditions in line than anyone else in the regt. I was then in Batt. F of the 5th (brigade) and we had a very good crowd of officers and a fine lot of men. Taking everything as a whole we had everything except experience.
We took up positions in a sector just in front of Luneville, a very quiet one happily where they only shoot once a week to see if the guns are in order. We did a bit better than that, simply for the practice of the thing, for there was no need for the amount we fired. I spent then most of my time at the echelons or horse lines and had, taking it all in all, a fine time, tho I did work like blazes trying to catch up to the others in a knowledge of artillery.The horse lines were in a great little place, Rosieres aux Salines. We stayed in that sector about two weeks, only had three casualties which happened just as we were leaving and I think, I know for my own part, learned a lot.
This is about all now for I have got to buzz about a bit but I will write some more tomorrow and try to make it all into one continuous story, however bad in form and all it may be.
With love,
Paul
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Letter written November 19, 1918
Dear Mother-:
My career as a member of the G.H.Q. was to say the least not over long due to the fact that upon the arrival of peace my expert advice was no longer needed and now I am back again once more as a member of the 1st A.T. (ammunition train) and a real fighting man with no one to fight. There was one thing splendid tho, while I was on the staff. I managed to get in my car which was a wonderful great Cadillac and run up to Paris. That was a couple of days ago and from what I knew of Paris it was a changed city. During the day one great blaze of the tricolor and at night a blaze of light. It was also very gay but so crowded that to get hotel accommodations was practically impossible. We had a regular Ivy (Paul’s club at Princeton) dinner. There were six of us all of whom I knew very well at college although only two of them were in my class. Bill McAdoo was there and on the crest altogether; it was a wonderful celebration. The next day I consecrated to shopping and bought a whole brand new peace time outfit so that now I am one of the snappiest looking young lieutenants you can imagine with the toil and grime of war completely wiped away. The end coming when it did certainly blighted my promising young military career for now promotions have been called off and I understand that my captaincy for which I was recommended about three weeks ago is also called off. However, it is cheap at the price and the end could not have come any too soon.
Were I in your place I would not expect me home too soon for heaven only knows when it will be. Being in the regular army as I am I have a hunch that we will probably stay in France after all the others (units formed for the wartime army) are gone, to fill up the trenches and roll up the barbed wire.The opinion seems to be that we as professional soldiers have no ties or interests while the others, some of whom have been here as long as six months must get back, I suppose to make the world safe for democrats and prohibition. I have taken during the past year two pet aversions, one the Y.M.C.A. and the other the prohibitionists which speaks for itself. As to the latter I am, however, trusting to the care and forethought of my friends so that it will not be necessary to commit any crimes however venial they may be. The States are certainly going to the dogs but after things have settled down a bit we can all come back to France together and do as we want to.
I saw Mildred (Woodruff) for about five minutes while I was in Paris. She was very well and seemed to be enjoying herself immensely as is every one there just now.
There isn’t a great deal more to say just now so I will call things off for the present. Good bye with love
Paul
My career as a member of the G.H.Q. was to say the least not over long due to the fact that upon the arrival of peace my expert advice was no longer needed and now I am back again once more as a member of the 1st A.T. (ammunition train) and a real fighting man with no one to fight. There was one thing splendid tho, while I was on the staff. I managed to get in my car which was a wonderful great Cadillac and run up to Paris. That was a couple of days ago and from what I knew of Paris it was a changed city. During the day one great blaze of the tricolor and at night a blaze of light. It was also very gay but so crowded that to get hotel accommodations was practically impossible. We had a regular Ivy (Paul’s club at Princeton) dinner. There were six of us all of whom I knew very well at college although only two of them were in my class. Bill McAdoo was there and on the crest altogether; it was a wonderful celebration. The next day I consecrated to shopping and bought a whole brand new peace time outfit so that now I am one of the snappiest looking young lieutenants you can imagine with the toil and grime of war completely wiped away. The end coming when it did certainly blighted my promising young military career for now promotions have been called off and I understand that my captaincy for which I was recommended about three weeks ago is also called off. However, it is cheap at the price and the end could not have come any too soon.
Were I in your place I would not expect me home too soon for heaven only knows when it will be. Being in the regular army as I am I have a hunch that we will probably stay in France after all the others (units formed for the wartime army) are gone, to fill up the trenches and roll up the barbed wire.The opinion seems to be that we as professional soldiers have no ties or interests while the others, some of whom have been here as long as six months must get back, I suppose to make the world safe for democrats and prohibition. I have taken during the past year two pet aversions, one the Y.M.C.A. and the other the prohibitionists which speaks for itself. As to the latter I am, however, trusting to the care and forethought of my friends so that it will not be necessary to commit any crimes however venial they may be. The States are certainly going to the dogs but after things have settled down a bit we can all come back to France together and do as we want to.
I saw Mildred (Woodruff) for about five minutes while I was in Paris. She was very well and seemed to be enjoying herself immensely as is every one there just now.
There isn’t a great deal more to say just now so I will call things off for the present. Good bye with love
Paul
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Letter written November 12, 1918
Dear Mother -:
The war is ended and just in time to let me stop as a soldier and not as what I became a couple of days ago, for then I was transferred from the line to the office of a G.H.Q. (general headquarters) colonel who is an authority on something and who had an idea I might be of some value to him. I had arrived from the front from where I last wrote you only a few days earlier and had not done much of anything when the end came. The way it came was quite remarkable and I suppose quite different from what anyone at home would imagine it would be like. We all knew that the German envoys had arrived and were trying to negotiate but peace has been so far from everyone’s mind for so long that it seemed absolutely incomprehensible that it would end. As soon as I got up yesterday morning tho, the rumor was all about that the armistice had been signed but there was nothing official; later it became more insistent until about 10: 30 it was finally announced and posted all over the city. The bells of the cathedral rang for a while, the children shouted a bit but it was very quiet and this is in a town that has been connected, and that intimately, with the war since it broke out. Among the older people there were more tears and hysterics than anything else, while the soldiers and people who had been actively in things couldn’t seem to realize it at all; they simply wandered aimlessly about, repeating “la guerre est fini, c’est la victoire.” Later in the day there was a band concert in the Place and things let down a little. All the national anthems of the Allies were played and the crowds which were large cheered a little but it was all very solemn. No one can seem to realize that the war is over and we have won. They know it but as yet they can’t feel it. I have heard that in some places there were real joyous affairs but for the most part it was as I told you. Too big an occasion for a frivolous celebration.
I suppose now that we will occupy some German territory for some time and then start coming home. When that will be heaven only knows for just now there is no making plans of any variety for certainly they will be all wrong. Personally, if I have to stay here any length of time what I am doing now would please me as much as anything for about all I have to do is to ride around the country in a marvelous automobile and look things over and then come back and pass out what some people are foolish enough to believe is expert advice. However I want really more than anything else to come home.
This is all now .
With love
Paul
The war is ended and just in time to let me stop as a soldier and not as what I became a couple of days ago, for then I was transferred from the line to the office of a G.H.Q. (general headquarters) colonel who is an authority on something and who had an idea I might be of some value to him. I had arrived from the front from where I last wrote you only a few days earlier and had not done much of anything when the end came. The way it came was quite remarkable and I suppose quite different from what anyone at home would imagine it would be like. We all knew that the German envoys had arrived and were trying to negotiate but peace has been so far from everyone’s mind for so long that it seemed absolutely incomprehensible that it would end. As soon as I got up yesterday morning tho, the rumor was all about that the armistice had been signed but there was nothing official; later it became more insistent until about 10: 30 it was finally announced and posted all over the city. The bells of the cathedral rang for a while, the children shouted a bit but it was very quiet and this is in a town that has been connected, and that intimately, with the war since it broke out. Among the older people there were more tears and hysterics than anything else, while the soldiers and people who had been actively in things couldn’t seem to realize it at all; they simply wandered aimlessly about, repeating “la guerre est fini, c’est la victoire.” Later in the day there was a band concert in the Place and things let down a little. All the national anthems of the Allies were played and the crowds which were large cheered a little but it was all very solemn. No one can seem to realize that the war is over and we have won. They know it but as yet they can’t feel it. I have heard that in some places there were real joyous affairs but for the most part it was as I told you. Too big an occasion for a frivolous celebration.
I suppose now that we will occupy some German territory for some time and then start coming home. When that will be heaven only knows for just now there is no making plans of any variety for certainly they will be all wrong. Personally, if I have to stay here any length of time what I am doing now would please me as much as anything for about all I have to do is to ride around the country in a marvelous automobile and look things over and then come back and pass out what some people are foolish enough to believe is expert advice. However I want really more than anything else to come home.
This is all now .
With love
Paul
Friday, November 7, 2008
Letter written October 26, 1918
Dear Nannoo-:
I received your letter a few days ago and enjoyed it very much in spite of your comments at the end that was a “stupid scribble”; as a matter of fact I think that your letters contain more actual information than any I receive. I also received at about the same time a notification from Morgan Harjes (Paris office of the Morgan Bank –Ed.) that they were authorized to issue me a new letter of credit for 5,000 francs. You made no mention of it but I am sure that it must have been you who sent it to me and I want to thank you more than I can possibly tell you. I do not as a fact need it at all for I am never away from the front and consequently have little or no opportunity of spending anything. If this war keeps up long enough I shall certainly end up a monied man for even during the past year when I lost my complete outfit twice I managed to save nearly 1,500 Frs plus that which I did not draw of the letter of credit you gave me a year ago which is something around 3,500 Frs.
I wrote Mother a few days ago that I had at last managed to be promoted and now am a long-ranking 1st lieutenant with fair prospects of becoming a captain before many moons. However, the future is always uncertain but for the present I am very well satisfied.
Your remark that you did not know what organizations I belong to certainly was a surprise for I thought I had told you dozens of times. Just now I am adjutant for the 1st ammunition train which is part of the 1st field artillery brigade and that in turn is the artillery of the 1st division. You see I am first, at last, in everything, something if I remember correctly you always wanted me to be, tho perhaps this wasn’t quite what you had in mind. It is quite a comfort now that we are getting an army over here to realize that we were the first Americans here and the first to take on the Bosche for any sort of a fight and are now looked upon by the others as more or less veterans, tho getting to be veterans certainly was not all that it might have been.
As for me I am still just the same and not finding my duties as adjutant overly onerous. My office is separated from the (ammunition) train by several miles as I have to live fairly near the guns but equipped with half a dozen orderlies and messengers and a telephone and a splendid Hdqs. (headquarters) mess. I manage to make fairly good times of it tho the hours are uncertain to say the least. More than that I have an automobile and chauffeur to run around with when necessary so things are not altogether disagreeable. Were it not for the Dutch and the certain amount of uncertainty that they add to things, life would be one long pleasant dream.
Things in the war line tho are certainly looking better and more remarkable still is the effect on those engaged. When the first news began to come that we were beginning to go ahead (that was a long time ago) everyone seemed to take on new life. The most impossible things were accomplished in the most terrible conditions.Even the horses seemed to know that it was victory, and where they would have ordinarily dropped they seemed to pick up new life and carry on. Since then we have been going ahead steadily and almost continuously. It has been wonderful. We have lived in Bosche shelters, used any amount of Bosche material and even eatern Bosche food. I would not have missed it for anything tho heaven knows I would like to come home with a soft billet as an instructor for a while. How Nelson Jr. (apparently a friend or relative from Auburn – Ed.) managed it is certainly a mystery to me for good as he may be as an instructor of troops I don’t quite understand how he in one visit to the lines could qualify as a seasoned warrior with the experience of war to draw on. However, as I have often said the ways of the army are stranger indeed than the ways of women and someday I may wake up and find myself military attaché to the Republic of Liberia. This is a very long letter and in it I have not managed to say a great deal tho I have covered a lot of paper, but they say that old age and strange modes of living make people garrulous and perhaps I am suffering from both for I feel that I have in the past two years lived at least 100 years.
This is all now, Nannoo, but I want to thank you again and again for letters of both varieties.
With love,
Paul
I received your letter a few days ago and enjoyed it very much in spite of your comments at the end that was a “stupid scribble”; as a matter of fact I think that your letters contain more actual information than any I receive. I also received at about the same time a notification from Morgan Harjes (Paris office of the Morgan Bank –Ed.) that they were authorized to issue me a new letter of credit for 5,000 francs. You made no mention of it but I am sure that it must have been you who sent it to me and I want to thank you more than I can possibly tell you. I do not as a fact need it at all for I am never away from the front and consequently have little or no opportunity of spending anything. If this war keeps up long enough I shall certainly end up a monied man for even during the past year when I lost my complete outfit twice I managed to save nearly 1,500 Frs plus that which I did not draw of the letter of credit you gave me a year ago which is something around 3,500 Frs.
I wrote Mother a few days ago that I had at last managed to be promoted and now am a long-ranking 1st lieutenant with fair prospects of becoming a captain before many moons. However, the future is always uncertain but for the present I am very well satisfied.
Your remark that you did not know what organizations I belong to certainly was a surprise for I thought I had told you dozens of times. Just now I am adjutant for the 1st ammunition train which is part of the 1st field artillery brigade and that in turn is the artillery of the 1st division. You see I am first, at last, in everything, something if I remember correctly you always wanted me to be, tho perhaps this wasn’t quite what you had in mind. It is quite a comfort now that we are getting an army over here to realize that we were the first Americans here and the first to take on the Bosche for any sort of a fight and are now looked upon by the others as more or less veterans, tho getting to be veterans certainly was not all that it might have been.
As for me I am still just the same and not finding my duties as adjutant overly onerous. My office is separated from the (ammunition) train by several miles as I have to live fairly near the guns but equipped with half a dozen orderlies and messengers and a telephone and a splendid Hdqs. (headquarters) mess. I manage to make fairly good times of it tho the hours are uncertain to say the least. More than that I have an automobile and chauffeur to run around with when necessary so things are not altogether disagreeable. Were it not for the Dutch and the certain amount of uncertainty that they add to things, life would be one long pleasant dream.
Things in the war line tho are certainly looking better and more remarkable still is the effect on those engaged. When the first news began to come that we were beginning to go ahead (that was a long time ago) everyone seemed to take on new life. The most impossible things were accomplished in the most terrible conditions.Even the horses seemed to know that it was victory, and where they would have ordinarily dropped they seemed to pick up new life and carry on. Since then we have been going ahead steadily and almost continuously. It has been wonderful. We have lived in Bosche shelters, used any amount of Bosche material and even eatern Bosche food. I would not have missed it for anything tho heaven knows I would like to come home with a soft billet as an instructor for a while. How Nelson Jr. (apparently a friend or relative from Auburn – Ed.) managed it is certainly a mystery to me for good as he may be as an instructor of troops I don’t quite understand how he in one visit to the lines could qualify as a seasoned warrior with the experience of war to draw on. However, as I have often said the ways of the army are stranger indeed than the ways of women and someday I may wake up and find myself military attaché to the Republic of Liberia. This is a very long letter and in it I have not managed to say a great deal tho I have covered a lot of paper, but they say that old age and strange modes of living make people garrulous and perhaps I am suffering from both for I feel that I have in the past two years lived at least 100 years.
This is all now, Nannoo, but I want to thank you again and again for letters of both varieties.
With love,
Paul
Letter written October 17, 1918
(Beneath date, a pencil notation by William Hills, Paul’s father: “This letter arrived the morning of Nov. 11, 1918, the day peace was announced. W.H.” )
Dear Mother -:
I am still on the front but with the new work I told you about it is not particularly unpleasant especially considering all that is going on. The Dutch are certainly beaten or at least beginning to be and the results are wonderful. Everyone is willing to and wants to give everything he has in him to keep it up and as you can imagine the work as in all advances is not easy. The weather has been vile and the roads and country a perfect sea of mud but somehow the thing is being managed tho the poor horses are suffering terribly.
I spend about six hours a day at a desk and about six more chasing around the country locating the ammunition that I have directed from my desk. However things are beginning to become a little more easy for me now and someday perhaps I will able to sleep 24 hours a day and know that everything is working OK as it should.
The promotions that were sent in at the same time that mine was are just beginning to materialize so perhaps it will not be a too long time before I begin to amount to something in the way of rank.
You wanted me to write you a letter describing just what I looked like. I don’t really believe that I can, especially considering the fact that I don’t believe that you ever saw anything that looks at all the way I do especially after a day’s or night’s work. About all there is to it is a trench coat with boots sticking out underneath, a gas mask on its chest and topped off by a tin hat covering one eye and half the face of what always has been underneath. Splash the whole variously with different colored mud and you have it or at least all that can be seen of it under ordinary circumstances.
Since I began to write this the long expected promotion did arrive and I am now a full blown 1st lieutenant with the assurance of the commanding officer that at the first possible opportunity I will go up for captain. It is really quite something for you to be proud of that, while others were getting theirs training or at home, etc., P. Hills nailed his on the front. I just happened to be figuring it out the other day that since there have been any American troops in France, there hasn’t been one single fight of any size that there have been any American troops in that I haven’t managed to be in on too.
(As to the foregoing paragraph, it was an abiding source of both pride and frustration to Paul Hills not only then but in future years that, while contemporaries in military service in World War I achieved higher rank in non-combat duty, his promotions and assignments were in the course of extended battlefront duty.)
In some ways, that is from the point of view of leaves, etc., it has been a decided disadvantage, but the experience has been worth anything even tho a little concentrated, and I doubt if anyone has had more advantages, if they may be called such, of seeing real downright war from the best side, which is none too pleasant, to the worst, which is that in all respects and any way you look at it.
This is all now so good bye
With love
Dear Mother -:
I am still on the front but with the new work I told you about it is not particularly unpleasant especially considering all that is going on. The Dutch are certainly beaten or at least beginning to be and the results are wonderful. Everyone is willing to and wants to give everything he has in him to keep it up and as you can imagine the work as in all advances is not easy. The weather has been vile and the roads and country a perfect sea of mud but somehow the thing is being managed tho the poor horses are suffering terribly.
I spend about six hours a day at a desk and about six more chasing around the country locating the ammunition that I have directed from my desk. However things are beginning to become a little more easy for me now and someday perhaps I will able to sleep 24 hours a day and know that everything is working OK as it should.
The promotions that were sent in at the same time that mine was are just beginning to materialize so perhaps it will not be a too long time before I begin to amount to something in the way of rank.
You wanted me to write you a letter describing just what I looked like. I don’t really believe that I can, especially considering the fact that I don’t believe that you ever saw anything that looks at all the way I do especially after a day’s or night’s work. About all there is to it is a trench coat with boots sticking out underneath, a gas mask on its chest and topped off by a tin hat covering one eye and half the face of what always has been underneath. Splash the whole variously with different colored mud and you have it or at least all that can be seen of it under ordinary circumstances.
Since I began to write this the long expected promotion did arrive and I am now a full blown 1st lieutenant with the assurance of the commanding officer that at the first possible opportunity I will go up for captain. It is really quite something for you to be proud of that, while others were getting theirs training or at home, etc., P. Hills nailed his on the front. I just happened to be figuring it out the other day that since there have been any American troops in France, there hasn’t been one single fight of any size that there have been any American troops in that I haven’t managed to be in on too.
(As to the foregoing paragraph, it was an abiding source of both pride and frustration to Paul Hills not only then but in future years that, while contemporaries in military service in World War I achieved higher rank in non-combat duty, his promotions and assignments were in the course of extended battlefront duty.)
In some ways, that is from the point of view of leaves, etc., it has been a decided disadvantage, but the experience has been worth anything even tho a little concentrated, and I doubt if anyone has had more advantages, if they may be called such, of seeing real downright war from the best side, which is none too pleasant, to the worst, which is that in all respects and any way you look at it.
This is all now so good bye
With love
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Letter mailed October 10, 1918
Dear Mother-:
I am terribly sorry about not having written more lately but you have no idea how it has been. You have probably seen by the papers all that has been going on (the heavy fighting around Soissons). Well, as usual I haven’t managed to miss a single bit of it. Then I was sent to school and immediately sent back again with the result that I tore from pillar to post and upon returning found myself in the thick of it. I went (this is true but unsanitary) for one whole week without taking off my clothes and four days without even taking off my boots. The great part of it all was, tho, that after I was nearly dead and wished I was and wondered if I would last an hour more I found myself suddenly in a fine new job. To be exact I am now the regimental adjutant and having a great time with prospects of a fairly quick promotion and a very pleasant existence. The commanding officer is a corker and it was thru him that I landed the job, as he was about the first officer I knew in the army over here and I have seen more or less of him ever since. Lately he was put in command of our outfit and here I am. Well, so it goes and tomorrow morning I may wake up and find myself in jail.
Even with it all, tho, I am still pining for quiet and rest. There is no sign yet of any leave and I doubt if there ever will be any. On my hurried trip to school and back which consumed four days I spent one day in Paris and had the good fortune to see Mildred and take dinner with her. We absolutely gorged and then went to the Olympia (a legendary music hall in Paris -.Ed) for a while. The next day on the way to Nevers, I accumulated a new girl. Very homely, very funny and extremely interesting since before the break-up in that realm (the Russian revolution of 1917 -.Ed) she danced in the Imperial Russian ballet. She has taken me on a (illegible ) but due to the fact that I only saw her for four hours and probably never will see her again I fear greatly that nothing will ever come of the affair. Those were the only events worth of interest during the journey and I returned as I said before to the very thick of things where I still am. Somehow I just can’t seem to keep out of war no matter what happens. I have got a great deal more to tell you but just now have no time.
With love
Paul
I am terribly sorry about not having written more lately but you have no idea how it has been. You have probably seen by the papers all that has been going on (the heavy fighting around Soissons). Well, as usual I haven’t managed to miss a single bit of it. Then I was sent to school and immediately sent back again with the result that I tore from pillar to post and upon returning found myself in the thick of it. I went (this is true but unsanitary) for one whole week without taking off my clothes and four days without even taking off my boots. The great part of it all was, tho, that after I was nearly dead and wished I was and wondered if I would last an hour more I found myself suddenly in a fine new job. To be exact I am now the regimental adjutant and having a great time with prospects of a fairly quick promotion and a very pleasant existence. The commanding officer is a corker and it was thru him that I landed the job, as he was about the first officer I knew in the army over here and I have seen more or less of him ever since. Lately he was put in command of our outfit and here I am. Well, so it goes and tomorrow morning I may wake up and find myself in jail.
Even with it all, tho, I am still pining for quiet and rest. There is no sign yet of any leave and I doubt if there ever will be any. On my hurried trip to school and back which consumed four days I spent one day in Paris and had the good fortune to see Mildred and take dinner with her. We absolutely gorged and then went to the Olympia (a legendary music hall in Paris -.Ed) for a while. The next day on the way to Nevers, I accumulated a new girl. Very homely, very funny and extremely interesting since before the break-up in that realm (the Russian revolution of 1917 -.Ed) she danced in the Imperial Russian ballet. She has taken me on a (illegible ) but due to the fact that I only saw her for four hours and probably never will see her again I fear greatly that nothing will ever come of the affair. Those were the only events worth of interest during the journey and I returned as I said before to the very thick of things where I still am. Somehow I just can’t seem to keep out of war no matter what happens. I have got a great deal more to tell you but just now have no time.
With love
Paul
Letter written September 30, 1918
Dear Mother-:
The mail still continues to be lacking and with the exception of the two cablegrams which I wrote you about I am without any news of you or in fact with the exception of a few papers of any news whatsoever of the world outside. We moved away from the front again a few days ago and are now in a pleasant but exceedingly rural rear area without a great deal to do but wait. I still have my company and really enjoy the work a great deal. There is more to do and more responsibility but it is good fun to have your own separate command and to see what you can do with it. Also my recommendation for promotion has gone to G.H.Q. so there is a reasonable chance perhaps after a few months it may come thru tho the affairs of the army are, as I have often said in a terrible semblance to the mills of the gods. People grow old and gray just waiting for some paper of great importance to go thru channels while a small order about the use of soap flies thru with amazing speed. However, due to the fact that the promotion of a mere sous lieutenant isn’t an affair that the fate of the nation depends upon there is some chance of its happening before I am due to have longevity pay.
You should see the place I am living just now. It is quite a splendid billet but its location is unique as it is in the back room of a café and to get to it I have to pass thru all the rooms of the establishment including the bedrooms of M. and Mme. And also that of the not unhandsome two barmaids. My nocturnal habits make, as you can well imagine, some situations that are a scream. The first time that my orderly came to call me he arrived, having run the gauntlet, a trembling wreck.
I am enclosing a little medal I picked up on a walk the other evening so I can vouch for its authenticity. This all now.
With love
Paul
The mail still continues to be lacking and with the exception of the two cablegrams which I wrote you about I am without any news of you or in fact with the exception of a few papers of any news whatsoever of the world outside. We moved away from the front again a few days ago and are now in a pleasant but exceedingly rural rear area without a great deal to do but wait. I still have my company and really enjoy the work a great deal. There is more to do and more responsibility but it is good fun to have your own separate command and to see what you can do with it. Also my recommendation for promotion has gone to G.H.Q. so there is a reasonable chance perhaps after a few months it may come thru tho the affairs of the army are, as I have often said in a terrible semblance to the mills of the gods. People grow old and gray just waiting for some paper of great importance to go thru channels while a small order about the use of soap flies thru with amazing speed. However, due to the fact that the promotion of a mere sous lieutenant isn’t an affair that the fate of the nation depends upon there is some chance of its happening before I am due to have longevity pay.
You should see the place I am living just now. It is quite a splendid billet but its location is unique as it is in the back room of a café and to get to it I have to pass thru all the rooms of the establishment including the bedrooms of M. and Mme. And also that of the not unhandsome two barmaids. My nocturnal habits make, as you can well imagine, some situations that are a scream. The first time that my orderly came to call me he arrived, having run the gauntlet, a trembling wreck.
I am enclosing a little medal I picked up on a walk the other evening so I can vouch for its authenticity. This all now.
With love
Paul
Letter written August 21, 1918
Dear Mother -:
My hoped for raise arrived at last and tho the actual rank hasn’t pulled in yet, I am in command of a company and along with other privileges drawing a captain’s pay. When my advancement in actual rank will come heaven only knows since such things having to go to the States and back again take time but I am reasonably sure that I will get a 1st lieutenancy within a couple of months and a captaincy in the not terribly far off future, that is all barring accidents as any day I may make the necessary mistake and shoot the whole business to pot, but c’est la guerre and I am hoping and doing the best I can. Along with other things I inherited my own touring car and chauffeur which is a great relief. We are doing exactly the same work as ordinarily , that is leading rather a sundodging existence delivering ammunition to three batteries and so forth but happily on a less strenuous scale here than elsewhere since, as I told you this is a quiet part of the line and not a great deal of shooting is done.
I also have prospects of a leave, just when I don’t exactly know but I have prospects and they are fairly bright. If they come true I shall certainly go to Cannes and see Cousin Josephine. It will be quite the wrong time of year for Cannes but that is about as far away from the war as any place I can think of, and more than that I long for the flesh pots of Egypt, not, strange to relate, in the sense of a riotous time but more in that of quiet, lazy comfort. I am so sick of eating at messes and cafes that I could weep.
The other day I met Pell Foster, who was in my class at Princeton and in the club and also another boy called Charlie Latrobe whom I knew very well.We met in town and fortunately as I could get hold of the commanding officer we were able to have dinner together and talk for hours.
You see I am just full of good news and afraid to turn around for fear some of it will turn out to be only a pleasant dream. I imagine Mildred (Cousin Mildred Woodruff of Auburn) is in Normandy or Brittany just now. When I saw her she intended going there for her vacation. She has done, I gather, a great deal of work exceptionally well, as she is now the head of the service. Just what the name of that particular service is I never have been able to find out. This is about all now so good by
With love Paul
My hoped for raise arrived at last and tho the actual rank hasn’t pulled in yet, I am in command of a company and along with other privileges drawing a captain’s pay. When my advancement in actual rank will come heaven only knows since such things having to go to the States and back again take time but I am reasonably sure that I will get a 1st lieutenancy within a couple of months and a captaincy in the not terribly far off future, that is all barring accidents as any day I may make the necessary mistake and shoot the whole business to pot, but c’est la guerre and I am hoping and doing the best I can. Along with other things I inherited my own touring car and chauffeur which is a great relief. We are doing exactly the same work as ordinarily , that is leading rather a sundodging existence delivering ammunition to three batteries and so forth but happily on a less strenuous scale here than elsewhere since, as I told you this is a quiet part of the line and not a great deal of shooting is done.
I also have prospects of a leave, just when I don’t exactly know but I have prospects and they are fairly bright. If they come true I shall certainly go to Cannes and see Cousin Josephine. It will be quite the wrong time of year for Cannes but that is about as far away from the war as any place I can think of, and more than that I long for the flesh pots of Egypt, not, strange to relate, in the sense of a riotous time but more in that of quiet, lazy comfort. I am so sick of eating at messes and cafes that I could weep.
The other day I met Pell Foster, who was in my class at Princeton and in the club and also another boy called Charlie Latrobe whom I knew very well.We met in town and fortunately as I could get hold of the commanding officer we were able to have dinner together and talk for hours.
You see I am just full of good news and afraid to turn around for fear some of it will turn out to be only a pleasant dream. I imagine Mildred (Cousin Mildred Woodruff of Auburn) is in Normandy or Brittany just now. When I saw her she intended going there for her vacation. She has done, I gather, a great deal of work exceptionally well, as she is now the head of the service. Just what the name of that particular service is I never have been able to find out. This is about all now so good by
With love Paul
Letter written August 11, 1918
Dear Mother-:
Yesterday and today have been quite banner days. I had just begun to think that as far as I was concerned the mail service between Auburn N.Y. and the A.E.F. had been permanently discontinued when I received a letter from Nannoo and two telegrams from you. It was great of you to remember me on that day (August 6, his 24th birthday) for tho it was not quite as disheartening a birthday as I had a year ago, I was away from everyone and to say the least did not have a highly cheerful day
I told you in the last letter that we were holding a quiet sector. It continues as such and as a result we have very little to do. Day before yesterday I spent the afternoon in a fair-sized town near by. It was really quite a sight. The city itself is a beautiful old place. The day was not hot but very bright. At about five there was a band concert on the Place. All the allied nations seemed to be represented and the scene as you can well imagine was splendid. All the café terraces which gave out on the square were crowded with brilliant uniforms of all description and apparently all the lovely ladies of the town were present. I forgot to say that it was Sunday and consequently the crowd was extraordinarily large. Under the tunnel of trees which surrounded the open part of the square promenaded all the favored nations of the world. From the black, blue and silver of the chasseur and the blue and scarlet of the infantry officer to the long gown and turban of some Arabs who had drifted in from no where in particular. So it goes on and were it not for little times like that, real flashes of the extraordinary, the war would be quite unbearable. But fortunately there seems to be a sense of balance or proportion behind the whole thing and just about when you are ready to give up, something pleasant happens, you have a day or a few hours off or an extra good time for a few minutes and you are ready to carry on again for a while.
I hope Carroll (younger brother) gets into something good before he finishes and if possible goes to college as long as he possibly can before he comes over. Tell him again for me that there is no hurry in spite of the fact that the gov’t has seen fit to discard age limits for both officers and officers training camps. Also I am more than ever convinced that he would not like and isn’t particularly suited for the infantry.
Give my love to Papa and Day. Also how are the dogs – you have not told me anything of them for some time. This is all I have time for just now so good bye
With love, Paul
Yesterday and today have been quite banner days. I had just begun to think that as far as I was concerned the mail service between Auburn N.Y. and the A.E.F. had been permanently discontinued when I received a letter from Nannoo and two telegrams from you. It was great of you to remember me on that day (August 6, his 24th birthday) for tho it was not quite as disheartening a birthday as I had a year ago, I was away from everyone and to say the least did not have a highly cheerful day
I told you in the last letter that we were holding a quiet sector. It continues as such and as a result we have very little to do. Day before yesterday I spent the afternoon in a fair-sized town near by. It was really quite a sight. The city itself is a beautiful old place. The day was not hot but very bright. At about five there was a band concert on the Place. All the allied nations seemed to be represented and the scene as you can well imagine was splendid. All the café terraces which gave out on the square were crowded with brilliant uniforms of all description and apparently all the lovely ladies of the town were present. I forgot to say that it was Sunday and consequently the crowd was extraordinarily large. Under the tunnel of trees which surrounded the open part of the square promenaded all the favored nations of the world. From the black, blue and silver of the chasseur and the blue and scarlet of the infantry officer to the long gown and turban of some Arabs who had drifted in from no where in particular. So it goes on and were it not for little times like that, real flashes of the extraordinary, the war would be quite unbearable. But fortunately there seems to be a sense of balance or proportion behind the whole thing and just about when you are ready to give up, something pleasant happens, you have a day or a few hours off or an extra good time for a few minutes and you are ready to carry on again for a while.
I hope Carroll (younger brother) gets into something good before he finishes and if possible goes to college as long as he possibly can before he comes over. Tell him again for me that there is no hurry in spite of the fact that the gov’t has seen fit to discard age limits for both officers and officers training camps. Also I am more than ever convinced that he would not like and isn’t particularly suited for the infantry.
Give my love to Papa and Day. Also how are the dogs – you have not told me anything of them for some time. This is all I have time for just now so good bye
With love, Paul
Letter written August 6, 1918
Dear Mother -:
I haven’t written you for nearly three weeks and I am very sorry about it but the this time it actually could not be helped. If I remember correctly at that time I was quietly installed in a farm and expecting quite a rest. But somehow or other I can’t keep away from the war and the next day we moved off to this last attack, that beginning July 18 of which you have probably read something by this time. Things went splendidly and although I never did so much work or went thru more it was well worth it all for it set the ball rolling and it hasn’t stopped yet and better than that we advanced. That is the first time we have ever advanced when I was along in the 15 months that I have been here. You really can’t imagine the satisfaction of moving into a territory which the Bosch had recently left and left in a hurry. We stayed in that affair for about a week and then came out with expectations of a little rest at least. The day we got out, however, I received orders to go to absolutely the other end of France to get some material. The trip was wonderful but needless to say not a great deal of rest. I saw some very wonderful country tho, and had, strange to relate, remarkably fine weather all the way. We were gone ten days and I came back yesterday to find the outfit again installed on the front, heaven be praised, tho a very quiet one. On the way back, I stopped for two hours in Paris or a little more and saw Mildred (Cousin Mildred Woodruff of Auburn, living and working in Paris) and had dinner with her. Anna, I think her name is, was there too and we had a perfectly great time just talking. I would have liked to stay longer but I had to leave early the next morning and my convoy was about ten miles out. I told her to write you which I hope she will.
I am beginning to be tremendously cheered up the way America is getting into this thing and there certainly seems to be ground at least for hope. At one time the outlook was certainly poor enough. The fine summer weather too helps. For certainly France in the summer is the most heavenly place I can think of. The mere thought tho, of another winter makes my shiver all over and turn blue. If ever this blooming war ends I am coming back here with all of you some May and stay until October. Then tho, we will go somewhere there is more heat and light.
This is about all now, Mother. If only we will stay in one place for a little while I may begin to get caught up on my writing.
With love
Paul
I haven’t written you for nearly three weeks and I am very sorry about it but the this time it actually could not be helped. If I remember correctly at that time I was quietly installed in a farm and expecting quite a rest. But somehow or other I can’t keep away from the war and the next day we moved off to this last attack, that beginning July 18 of which you have probably read something by this time. Things went splendidly and although I never did so much work or went thru more it was well worth it all for it set the ball rolling and it hasn’t stopped yet and better than that we advanced. That is the first time we have ever advanced when I was along in the 15 months that I have been here. You really can’t imagine the satisfaction of moving into a territory which the Bosch had recently left and left in a hurry. We stayed in that affair for about a week and then came out with expectations of a little rest at least. The day we got out, however, I received orders to go to absolutely the other end of France to get some material. The trip was wonderful but needless to say not a great deal of rest. I saw some very wonderful country tho, and had, strange to relate, remarkably fine weather all the way. We were gone ten days and I came back yesterday to find the outfit again installed on the front, heaven be praised, tho a very quiet one. On the way back, I stopped for two hours in Paris or a little more and saw Mildred (Cousin Mildred Woodruff of Auburn, living and working in Paris) and had dinner with her. Anna, I think her name is, was there too and we had a perfectly great time just talking. I would have liked to stay longer but I had to leave early the next morning and my convoy was about ten miles out. I told her to write you which I hope she will.
I am beginning to be tremendously cheered up the way America is getting into this thing and there certainly seems to be ground at least for hope. At one time the outlook was certainly poor enough. The fine summer weather too helps. For certainly France in the summer is the most heavenly place I can think of. The mere thought tho, of another winter makes my shiver all over and turn blue. If ever this blooming war ends I am coming back here with all of you some May and stay until October. Then tho, we will go somewhere there is more heat and light.
This is about all now, Mother. If only we will stay in one place for a little while I may begin to get caught up on my writing.
With love
Paul
Letter written July 9, 1918
Dear Mother-:
I have at last left the front and I can’t say that I am sorry. It was a long, long seige and that on a sector which was to say the least not noted for its tranquility. Everything, however, went well with me and my affairs especially since I took up with the ammunition work with which I still am. The battery I was with before was over-officered and gave little chance for getting ahead, compared to which this outfit, while still the field artillery, is quite the opposite, and with another action or “show” like the last one I feel tolerably certain that I may get ahead a step. I was sorry as the deuce to leave the old outfit but I see them now whenever I want to, besides having the advantages which I wrote you before. Riding in an automobile and being, or rather trying to be, diplomatic with the French isn’t half bad sport especially considering the fact that I get to the very front line at least once a day and live in comfortable quarters and eat like a prince. The place we are in now is, thank heaven, out of the sound of the guns and last night I had the usual experience of not being able to sleep because of the lack of noise. I woke up about midnight and was really scared because of the lack of sound, no continual grind of wheels, no noise whatsoever of the artillery. Really it was weird. By the way, I forgot to tell you that the wonderful outfit I had in the spring is gone, gone without a trace. I imagine the Bosche have it and it makes me boil to think of some fat Heinie sporting around in my new clothes and boots. However, revenge is sweet and I live in hopes of doing some looting some day on my own hook.
I am sending Day in a little package a real Alpin beret and if I can find it a regulation cor de chasse to put on it. The cor is worn over the left eye and the beret pulled down over the right ear.
The families of chasseurs affect the beret and claim they have the sole right to the cor so Day can put herself in that number.
You would smile I think to see how we are living here, quartered in a perfectly wonderful chateau quite modernized – that is, bathrooms have been added. We have the mess in the big hall and the twenty of us sitting there at the long table surrounded by the ancestral paintings and silver make the darndest pictures of luxury you can imagine. It seems however a little too good to last. Things like that are anything but common in this war and I fear for our future. However we eat, drink and be merry while we can.
This about all now so good by with love Paul
I have at last left the front and I can’t say that I am sorry. It was a long, long seige and that on a sector which was to say the least not noted for its tranquility. Everything, however, went well with me and my affairs especially since I took up with the ammunition work with which I still am. The battery I was with before was over-officered and gave little chance for getting ahead, compared to which this outfit, while still the field artillery, is quite the opposite, and with another action or “show” like the last one I feel tolerably certain that I may get ahead a step. I was sorry as the deuce to leave the old outfit but I see them now whenever I want to, besides having the advantages which I wrote you before. Riding in an automobile and being, or rather trying to be, diplomatic with the French isn’t half bad sport especially considering the fact that I get to the very front line at least once a day and live in comfortable quarters and eat like a prince. The place we are in now is, thank heaven, out of the sound of the guns and last night I had the usual experience of not being able to sleep because of the lack of noise. I woke up about midnight and was really scared because of the lack of sound, no continual grind of wheels, no noise whatsoever of the artillery. Really it was weird. By the way, I forgot to tell you that the wonderful outfit I had in the spring is gone, gone without a trace. I imagine the Bosche have it and it makes me boil to think of some fat Heinie sporting around in my new clothes and boots. However, revenge is sweet and I live in hopes of doing some looting some day on my own hook.
I am sending Day in a little package a real Alpin beret and if I can find it a regulation cor de chasse to put on it. The cor is worn over the left eye and the beret pulled down over the right ear.
The families of chasseurs affect the beret and claim they have the sole right to the cor so Day can put herself in that number.
You would smile I think to see how we are living here, quartered in a perfectly wonderful chateau quite modernized – that is, bathrooms have been added. We have the mess in the big hall and the twenty of us sitting there at the long table surrounded by the ancestral paintings and silver make the darndest pictures of luxury you can imagine. It seems however a little too good to last. Things like that are anything but common in this war and I fear for our future. However we eat, drink and be merry while we can.
This about all now so good by with love Paul
Letter written July 1, 1918
Dear Mother-:
I have quite a little time just now with nothing to do but as luck will have it nothing at all to write to you about. Every single thing that I know about is exactly the same as it has been for the last two months and as you can well imagine, being here as long as we have, the monotony is getting to be rather dreadful.
I am sending you a photograph which a passing Frenchman took of the officers of the unit about a week ago. I am, if you are unable to recognize me, occupying the lower right corner, the facial expression being caused by the bright sun and not permanently put on by the horrors of war. Thank you very much for writing Jared (Ingersoll, an old friend from school and college –Ed.) for me. I received a letter from him a long time ago and answered it but that was the last. Have also had a couple of letters from Hunt Talmage, who is frantic because he went home and since that time he has been able neither to get into any sort of work on account of his eyes nor get back to France, having no excuse for coming. Adding worse to worse, his lady love is on this side which makes it very annoying from his point of view.
My work is still as it has been, going out at night with a convoy of trucks and delivering ammunition to the batteries, but now since things have quieted down a little we only go out about every two nights and in the rest of the time I censor letters of the company, of which since they are not too busy or tired there is a vast number. That does not sound hard but actually it is the most disagreeable task I have. First it is a perfectly horrible bore. Nine tenths of them say exactly the same thing, with varying mistakes of grammar. The other tenth vary from one or two actually clever ones, to all the tongues of Babel. More than that it takes just about three hours per day. (And he was also responsible for censoring his own letters. -.Ed)
The eternal Reg Windham (an acquaintance of Paul Hills and his family from before military service who coincidentally served with Paul in almost every unit, from the ambulance service to the same field artillery unit -.Ed) left yesterday on some sort of detached duty but things have happened so that I have turned up with him so much that it won’t be long, I am sure, before we both meet unexpectedly on the same work at some very out- of-the-way place.
This is about all there is now so good bye
With love
Paul
I have quite a little time just now with nothing to do but as luck will have it nothing at all to write to you about. Every single thing that I know about is exactly the same as it has been for the last two months and as you can well imagine, being here as long as we have, the monotony is getting to be rather dreadful.
I am sending you a photograph which a passing Frenchman took of the officers of the unit about a week ago. I am, if you are unable to recognize me, occupying the lower right corner, the facial expression being caused by the bright sun and not permanently put on by the horrors of war. Thank you very much for writing Jared (Ingersoll, an old friend from school and college –Ed.) for me. I received a letter from him a long time ago and answered it but that was the last. Have also had a couple of letters from Hunt Talmage, who is frantic because he went home and since that time he has been able neither to get into any sort of work on account of his eyes nor get back to France, having no excuse for coming. Adding worse to worse, his lady love is on this side which makes it very annoying from his point of view.
My work is still as it has been, going out at night with a convoy of trucks and delivering ammunition to the batteries, but now since things have quieted down a little we only go out about every two nights and in the rest of the time I censor letters of the company, of which since they are not too busy or tired there is a vast number. That does not sound hard but actually it is the most disagreeable task I have. First it is a perfectly horrible bore. Nine tenths of them say exactly the same thing, with varying mistakes of grammar. The other tenth vary from one or two actually clever ones, to all the tongues of Babel. More than that it takes just about three hours per day. (And he was also responsible for censoring his own letters. -.Ed)
The eternal Reg Windham (an acquaintance of Paul Hills and his family from before military service who coincidentally served with Paul in almost every unit, from the ambulance service to the same field artillery unit -.Ed) left yesterday on some sort of detached duty but things have happened so that I have turned up with him so much that it won’t be long, I am sure, before we both meet unexpectedly on the same work at some very out- of-the-way place.
This is about all there is now so good bye
With love
Paul
Letter written Sunday, June 23, 1918
Dear Nannoo-:
Your letter with the clipping in it came a few days ago and interested me very much. The more I hear the more I become certain that when things are over and I manage to come that it will be moving to a strange country, and every one I ever knew the head of a rapidly growing family. Certainly the younger generation, judging from its start cannot be accused of race suicide.
As for myself things are going much as always. I told you all, I think, that I had been put in the ammunition train which occupies itself in bringing up shells, etc., to the batteries. The work is not as interesting as being at the battery proper and you do not have the satisfaction of actually shooting Dutchmen and believe me that is a real satisfaction. On the other hand, however, the life is vastly more pleasant. We live better, eat better and have quarters above ground, with the added distinct pleasure that you may make plans for 24 hours in advance without having always in the back of your head that condition “if I’m still here”. The work tho is entirely at night which, tho luckily, I have ceased to mind and simply consider it as a known fact that during certain hours it is dark and certain others light. Night and day as set periods to sleep and work have ceased to exist. And night by the way is the fashionable time at the front. You could stay in one place all day long and be lonely as anything but just as soon as it becomes dark and the balloons (observation balloons –Ed.) go down, things begin to come out and move around and the whole front, I mean that strip of country which the Bosch can see in the daylight becomes the most busy section of the world. Caissons, guns, men, horses, food and in fact supplies of every conceivable sort are going and coming and are everywhere. The immediate vicinity of the front is as different at midnight and noon as at 5th Avenue, only just the opposite.
There isn’t a great deal more to tell you now so I will stop. With love, Paul
Your letter with the clipping in it came a few days ago and interested me very much. The more I hear the more I become certain that when things are over and I manage to come that it will be moving to a strange country, and every one I ever knew the head of a rapidly growing family. Certainly the younger generation, judging from its start cannot be accused of race suicide.
As for myself things are going much as always. I told you all, I think, that I had been put in the ammunition train which occupies itself in bringing up shells, etc., to the batteries. The work is not as interesting as being at the battery proper and you do not have the satisfaction of actually shooting Dutchmen and believe me that is a real satisfaction. On the other hand, however, the life is vastly more pleasant. We live better, eat better and have quarters above ground, with the added distinct pleasure that you may make plans for 24 hours in advance without having always in the back of your head that condition “if I’m still here”. The work tho is entirely at night which, tho luckily, I have ceased to mind and simply consider it as a known fact that during certain hours it is dark and certain others light. Night and day as set periods to sleep and work have ceased to exist. And night by the way is the fashionable time at the front. You could stay in one place all day long and be lonely as anything but just as soon as it becomes dark and the balloons (observation balloons –Ed.) go down, things begin to come out and move around and the whole front, I mean that strip of country which the Bosch can see in the daylight becomes the most busy section of the world. Caissons, guns, men, horses, food and in fact supplies of every conceivable sort are going and coming and are everywhere. The immediate vicinity of the front is as different at midnight and noon as at 5th Avenue, only just the opposite.
There isn’t a great deal more to tell you now so I will stop. With love, Paul
Letter written June 14, 1918
Dear Mother-:
I started a letter yesterday but something or other interfered and when today I came to go on with it, it was such a stupid thing that I decided to begin another all over again. Really to know what to write is quite a problem. You have quite enough at home of the blood and thunder, far more indeed it seems than we who are in it, and to always write about one’s self never leads anywhere. But now first a bit of the other side. Last evening or rather yesterday afternoon, for it doesn’t get dark until about 10, I went up to one of the batteries of the regiment and managed to arrive just about as they were finishing dinner. The position was in a woods, not an American woods but a real French one with no bushes or low undergrowth and tall trees with no low branches – Howitzers have the advantage of being able to fire from such a place. The table was laid under what the French call a “tonelle” – (spelling questionable) about a hundred yards back of the guns near the officers’ dugout and there, as it was under the branches it was such as we would be proud to have at home. A wonderful old oak table with fine white and gold porcelain and cut glass looted from a nearby smashed chateau, I am sorry to say. The meal was in proportion. Four courses, two sorts of wine and port after. During the whole time I was there the guns were going, one shot a minute only, simply interdiction fire on a point where all it is necessary to do is to load and pull the string. Here, tho, nobody was in a hurry, nobody overworked and as you can imagine the life there was comfortable since the battery has been there three weeks and firing about 600 rounds a day and no shell has ever come anywhere near it. And with it all this is a sector that has the reputation of being one of the liveliest on the entire front. You see, even this war isn’t without its pleasant moments and pleasant work, for certainly to fire a battery all day is pleasant when you are not fired back at by Heinie from over the hill.
As for myself I am becoming more and more nocturnal in my habits. A day or so ago it occurred that I did not have to go out at night and had aspirations towards a real, normal night’s rest. I went to bed about ten but it was like going to bed in the middle of the morning and I stood about as much chance of sleeping. Strange how easily you become absolutely turned around. This about all now, Mother, so good bye. With love, Paul
I started a letter yesterday but something or other interfered and when today I came to go on with it, it was such a stupid thing that I decided to begin another all over again. Really to know what to write is quite a problem. You have quite enough at home of the blood and thunder, far more indeed it seems than we who are in it, and to always write about one’s self never leads anywhere. But now first a bit of the other side. Last evening or rather yesterday afternoon, for it doesn’t get dark until about 10, I went up to one of the batteries of the regiment and managed to arrive just about as they were finishing dinner. The position was in a woods, not an American woods but a real French one with no bushes or low undergrowth and tall trees with no low branches – Howitzers have the advantage of being able to fire from such a place. The table was laid under what the French call a “tonelle” – (spelling questionable) about a hundred yards back of the guns near the officers’ dugout and there, as it was under the branches it was such as we would be proud to have at home. A wonderful old oak table with fine white and gold porcelain and cut glass looted from a nearby smashed chateau, I am sorry to say. The meal was in proportion. Four courses, two sorts of wine and port after. During the whole time I was there the guns were going, one shot a minute only, simply interdiction fire on a point where all it is necessary to do is to load and pull the string. Here, tho, nobody was in a hurry, nobody overworked and as you can imagine the life there was comfortable since the battery has been there three weeks and firing about 600 rounds a day and no shell has ever come anywhere near it. And with it all this is a sector that has the reputation of being one of the liveliest on the entire front. You see, even this war isn’t without its pleasant moments and pleasant work, for certainly to fire a battery all day is pleasant when you are not fired back at by Heinie from over the hill.
As for myself I am becoming more and more nocturnal in my habits. A day or so ago it occurred that I did not have to go out at night and had aspirations towards a real, normal night’s rest. I went to bed about ten but it was like going to bed in the middle of the morning and I stood about as much chance of sleeping. Strange how easily you become absolutely turned around. This about all now, Mother, so good bye. With love, Paul
Letter written June 4, 1918
Dear Mother -:
Yesterday when I had begun to think that all the mail service between U.S. and France had been completely stopped I got about six letters from you and one from Nannoo and also some clippings from Papa. It was great to hear from you and get all the news from home.
Tyrant certainly seems to have disgraced himself for fair, but the people of Auburn give me an awful pain with all their picking and noise about it all. (Tyrant was one of two Great Danes the Hills family had at that time, and apparently committed some kind of serious offense. –Ed,) It seems just like some of the people you mentioned, tho I hardly expected it of the Clarks.
I supposed that Mildred W’s letter from Paris was a bit mystifying as to my movements but she really didn’t know herself exactly what I was up to. Now it doesn’t make any great difference. Due to the fact that I can speak French, when the division changed sectors, which it did about that time, I was sent ahead to arrange the billeting and had to pass through Paris on the trip. It was rather good fun and I particularly enjoyed the twenty-four hours I had there. I have about decided that this ability to speak French, tho, is a decided detriment to a military career. Everywhere I land I become sort of semi-official interpreter and am given all the odd strange jobs that involve the mysteries of the Gallic tongue. The result is that I am never at anything more than a short time and while I do a hundred and one odd jobs, never complete any large one and gain the merit attached thereto. Verily if ever I am transferred again I shall keep said knowledge under my hat and confine myself to my calling of shooting Bosche. I haven’t managed to land a leave yet and have no prospects. They are given again to those not on active service in the advanced zone of operations. That means that anyone with a soft pleasant post in the rear gets leave to rest him from the rigors of his work while the lucky individuals close up who live in holes, sleep about two hours a night and escape with their lives by a hair about twice a day (or don’t) are left there to enjoy themselves indefinitely. All that last description doesn’t apply to me for I have told you I think that I have splendid living quarters. However the leave arrangement makes me very ill.
This is all now – so good bye With love Paul
Yesterday when I had begun to think that all the mail service between U.S. and France had been completely stopped I got about six letters from you and one from Nannoo and also some clippings from Papa. It was great to hear from you and get all the news from home.
Tyrant certainly seems to have disgraced himself for fair, but the people of Auburn give me an awful pain with all their picking and noise about it all. (Tyrant was one of two Great Danes the Hills family had at that time, and apparently committed some kind of serious offense. –Ed,) It seems just like some of the people you mentioned, tho I hardly expected it of the Clarks.
I supposed that Mildred W’s letter from Paris was a bit mystifying as to my movements but she really didn’t know herself exactly what I was up to. Now it doesn’t make any great difference. Due to the fact that I can speak French, when the division changed sectors, which it did about that time, I was sent ahead to arrange the billeting and had to pass through Paris on the trip. It was rather good fun and I particularly enjoyed the twenty-four hours I had there. I have about decided that this ability to speak French, tho, is a decided detriment to a military career. Everywhere I land I become sort of semi-official interpreter and am given all the odd strange jobs that involve the mysteries of the Gallic tongue. The result is that I am never at anything more than a short time and while I do a hundred and one odd jobs, never complete any large one and gain the merit attached thereto. Verily if ever I am transferred again I shall keep said knowledge under my hat and confine myself to my calling of shooting Bosche. I haven’t managed to land a leave yet and have no prospects. They are given again to those not on active service in the advanced zone of operations. That means that anyone with a soft pleasant post in the rear gets leave to rest him from the rigors of his work while the lucky individuals close up who live in holes, sleep about two hours a night and escape with their lives by a hair about twice a day (or don’t) are left there to enjoy themselves indefinitely. All that last description doesn’t apply to me for I have told you I think that I have splendid living quarters. However the leave arrangement makes me very ill.
This is all now – so good bye With love Paul
Letter written May 27, 1918
Dear Mother-:
I haven’t written lately simply because of he fact that if possible I have been a little more busy of late than before. I told you about my new work, well, it continues as before pleasantly but with very, very long hours. A couple of days ago, tho, it slacked up slightly and out of the ensuing twenty-four hours I managed to sleep 16 without stopping. Now, tho, I feel like a new person and am ready to begin again with a vengeance. It certainly is more pleasant to live a little behind the lines and to go up to them for work than it is to stay there continuously and live sort of a subterranean existence, coming up only at night.
We have a house left by the inhabitants, a one-story affair with three bedrooms and two sitting rooms.The late tenants left most of their worldly goods, as from everything I can gather they went in rather a hurry. As a result we have quite splendid china service, decanters, furniture, beds, etc.. With this outfit and our three orderlies we keep house very comfortably and tho perhaps it wouldn’t quite come up to your standards, it all does very well. By long practice I have become quite adept at domestic affairs and when I get home I shall certainly have to get a position of steward or housekeeper or purveyor of wines or something of that sort. For the last month that I was with the battery I acted as mess officer and had a great time. I would go to market in the nearest town, buy supplies and plan meals therewith, engage and discharge cooks and hear complaints from seven lieutenants and two captains who ate nevertheless with enjoyment what the board afforded. This war is certainly a liberal education but I am beginning to think that it is very nearly time the course ended and I got my degree. I am a little disappointed in W. (an old friend in Auburn) that he isn’t doing something in this war. It wouldn’t take a great deal of effort on his part to get into it and we can never have enough Docs. Perhaps being in it so deeply myself I have lost sympathy with the way the outsider feels but I can’t see anything that anyone should do but put himself into it. It isn’t money we need, it isn’t to such a great extent material, but it is men quickly and in quantities. Tell Day (sister) I got her letter and thank her very much and tell Papa and Nannoo that I will write them the first chance I get. With love, Paul
I haven’t written lately simply because of he fact that if possible I have been a little more busy of late than before. I told you about my new work, well, it continues as before pleasantly but with very, very long hours. A couple of days ago, tho, it slacked up slightly and out of the ensuing twenty-four hours I managed to sleep 16 without stopping. Now, tho, I feel like a new person and am ready to begin again with a vengeance. It certainly is more pleasant to live a little behind the lines and to go up to them for work than it is to stay there continuously and live sort of a subterranean existence, coming up only at night.
We have a house left by the inhabitants, a one-story affair with three bedrooms and two sitting rooms.The late tenants left most of their worldly goods, as from everything I can gather they went in rather a hurry. As a result we have quite splendid china service, decanters, furniture, beds, etc.. With this outfit and our three orderlies we keep house very comfortably and tho perhaps it wouldn’t quite come up to your standards, it all does very well. By long practice I have become quite adept at domestic affairs and when I get home I shall certainly have to get a position of steward or housekeeper or purveyor of wines or something of that sort. For the last month that I was with the battery I acted as mess officer and had a great time. I would go to market in the nearest town, buy supplies and plan meals therewith, engage and discharge cooks and hear complaints from seven lieutenants and two captains who ate nevertheless with enjoyment what the board afforded. This war is certainly a liberal education but I am beginning to think that it is very nearly time the course ended and I got my degree. I am a little disappointed in W. (an old friend in Auburn) that he isn’t doing something in this war. It wouldn’t take a great deal of effort on his part to get into it and we can never have enough Docs. Perhaps being in it so deeply myself I have lost sympathy with the way the outsider feels but I can’t see anything that anyone should do but put himself into it. It isn’t money we need, it isn’t to such a great extent material, but it is men quickly and in quantities. Tell Day (sister) I got her letter and thank her very much and tell Papa and Nannoo that I will write them the first chance I get. With love, Paul
Letter written May 12, 1918
Dear Mother-
Have been at the front again now for nearly a week and consequently have had more to do than any one person has a right to attempt. This time, however, I am not on O.T. work but have a work which if things ever settle down a little will be quite pleasant and comfortable but not nearly, I am glad to say, as responsible. I am with the division munitions train. That is an automobile truck service and like most of the things I have ever been connected with a “fly by night”. We start out from where we live every day about 5 p.m., go to a munitions dump and deliver the shells, powder and such to the batteries. I suppose I got the job because I could speak a little French. As a matter of fact I might say I speak it well now and know a bit about road conditions, etc. My company consists of twenty trucks, a couple of motor cycles and a touring car in which with another I ride around, lead the procession and fight with the French munitions officers. It is only a temporary thing, however, and in a little time I suppose I will lose the luxury of a touring car and chauffeur and be back strafing Fritz with the high explosive again in the old style.
I am very glad Papa is getting better. You really have no idea how much his being sick upset me. Especially the letter he wrote me with his left hand.
If you get a chance, do all you can to see the Chasseurs Alpins that are in America now. (Paul’s ambulance unit, which served the French Army, was attached to the Chasseurs Alpins, an elite divison, until he entered the American Army at its arrival in France) They are still in my mind the best troops in the world and certainly some of the most striking looking, and what is more I am one and can wear a beret and the cor de chasse. Once a chasseur, always a chasseur.
This is all now. Good by with love Paul
Have been at the front again now for nearly a week and consequently have had more to do than any one person has a right to attempt. This time, however, I am not on O.T. work but have a work which if things ever settle down a little will be quite pleasant and comfortable but not nearly, I am glad to say, as responsible. I am with the division munitions train. That is an automobile truck service and like most of the things I have ever been connected with a “fly by night”. We start out from where we live every day about 5 p.m., go to a munitions dump and deliver the shells, powder and such to the batteries. I suppose I got the job because I could speak a little French. As a matter of fact I might say I speak it well now and know a bit about road conditions, etc. My company consists of twenty trucks, a couple of motor cycles and a touring car in which with another I ride around, lead the procession and fight with the French munitions officers. It is only a temporary thing, however, and in a little time I suppose I will lose the luxury of a touring car and chauffeur and be back strafing Fritz with the high explosive again in the old style.
I am very glad Papa is getting better. You really have no idea how much his being sick upset me. Especially the letter he wrote me with his left hand.
If you get a chance, do all you can to see the Chasseurs Alpins that are in America now. (Paul’s ambulance unit, which served the French Army, was attached to the Chasseurs Alpins, an elite divison, until he entered the American Army at its arrival in France) They are still in my mind the best troops in the world and certainly some of the most striking looking, and what is more I am one and can wear a beret and the cor de chasse. Once a chasseur, always a chasseur.
This is all now. Good by with love Paul
Letter written April 27, 1918
Dear Mother-: I am really dreadfully ashamed and sorry about the way I have not been writing lately but it has been absolutely impossible. Just why I can’t tell you now but there has been no chance. Also I haven’t had any word from you for nearly a month but that has been for the same reason. I have been almost continuously on the move and when I was still, so far separated from things that the mail has had no chance to catch up to me.
I am now in a part of France I have never been in before and a very pretty and interesting one, particularly so now for it is really spring and the whole country is a mass of green fields and apple blossoms. The battery is just now resting but that isn’t at all as it sounds for rest means simply one grand clean up, clean out and adjustment, which keeps everyone more busy than they ever were at the front. I rather hope tho now we stay at it for a little while as I would like very much to write a few letters and see what I have left of my personal equipment.
I can’t understand your not having gotten my letters. I wrote you at least twice a week or more all of February and March. I have heard from Hunt (Talmage, a Princeton friend with whom he first entered the ambulance service in April, 1917) lately, that is comparatively lately. He went home for Xmas and somehow didn’t manage to come back. He gave up his position in the embassy hunting for a commission in the army and now being out of everything is very sore. If you get a chance, look him up in N.Y. as he could tell you some very interesting things and would be glad to. He is still at the Ritz. This is about all now. Good bye, With love, Paul
I am now in a part of France I have never been in before and a very pretty and interesting one, particularly so now for it is really spring and the whole country is a mass of green fields and apple blossoms. The battery is just now resting but that isn’t at all as it sounds for rest means simply one grand clean up, clean out and adjustment, which keeps everyone more busy than they ever were at the front. I rather hope tho now we stay at it for a little while as I would like very much to write a few letters and see what I have left of my personal equipment.
I can’t understand your not having gotten my letters. I wrote you at least twice a week or more all of February and March. I have heard from Hunt (Talmage, a Princeton friend with whom he first entered the ambulance service in April, 1917) lately, that is comparatively lately. He went home for Xmas and somehow didn’t manage to come back. He gave up his position in the embassy hunting for a commission in the army and now being out of everything is very sore. If you get a chance, look him up in N.Y. as he could tell you some very interesting things and would be glad to. He is still at the Ritz. This is about all now. Good bye, With love, Paul
Letter written April 25, 1918
Dear Papa-:
When I started to write this I had really no idea what to tell you about until I realized that at home you had very little real knowledge of exactly what sort of an outfit I was with or what it looked like or what we did and I think that would be as interesting to you as anything else. The battery itself, which is Batt. C of the 5th, consists of about 220 men, 200 horses and four guns . There are four lieutenants in the outfit and a captain who is our battery commander. The guns would interest you more than anything else for they are absolutely the highest development of heavy field artillery that exists. You can’t really imagine anything any more perfected than they are. They are of the howitzer type, that is short guns of about six-inch caliber. They can throw ninety-odd pounds of steel and explosive about nine miles and in order to get away from it when it lands you have to have over fifteen feet of solid cover over your head and sometimes that isn’t enough. By solid I mean concrete, railroad iron and logs. Consequently as you can well imagine we aren’t particularly popular with the Bosche especially considering that the guns can shoot from any place at any time and with eight horses attached are very mobile. We can when necessary fire six shots a minute out of each of our guns with an accuracy that is really terrible. This science of artillery is really one of the most fascinating and wonderful things that there is. You know just what you can do to a fraction and given the necessary information you can set out and when you are finished be sure that it is done. For example, with one of the guns of our battery, I could with an accurate map sit on the piazza at Garnston (another reference to the family’s summer cottage on Owasco Lake near Auburn, N.Y.) with the gun on the back lawn, figure for ten minutes, fire a certain number of shots and be absolutely certain that the railroad station in Moravia was completely destroyed without anyone having seen a shot land or even bothering to go and see where the station was to make sure. It is certain.
But enough technical information and war and guns for the present. It is spring here and perfectly beautiful and during the past year I have had so much of the former and am so fed up on it all that I don’t care too much about doing any more with it all than I can help. The thing that I would like more than anything else just now would be to sit down at home with the family and the dogs and be clean and comfortable and quiet for an indefinite period of time. And more than that, stay in one place for a little while. The first thing any one does after arriving any where over here now is to wonder where the next place you are going to will be and how long it will be before you go there. Usually it is about a week and you go to the place that seems least possible of all those that you have figured on and you are warned about ten minutes before you start.
That, as you can imagine is a bit trying on one’s good nature and a bit hard on the personal belongings. I have things scattered from one end of France to the other and if ever I get the chance it will take me at least a week to collect them, traveling all the time. Some people are in a worse fix than I for they don’t even know where theirs are.
This is about all I have time for now so good bye, and best luck for your recovery which I feel sure is quite complete by now. With love, Paul
When I started to write this I had really no idea what to tell you about until I realized that at home you had very little real knowledge of exactly what sort of an outfit I was with or what it looked like or what we did and I think that would be as interesting to you as anything else. The battery itself, which is Batt. C of the 5th, consists of about 220 men, 200 horses and four guns . There are four lieutenants in the outfit and a captain who is our battery commander. The guns would interest you more than anything else for they are absolutely the highest development of heavy field artillery that exists. You can’t really imagine anything any more perfected than they are. They are of the howitzer type, that is short guns of about six-inch caliber. They can throw ninety-odd pounds of steel and explosive about nine miles and in order to get away from it when it lands you have to have over fifteen feet of solid cover over your head and sometimes that isn’t enough. By solid I mean concrete, railroad iron and logs. Consequently as you can well imagine we aren’t particularly popular with the Bosche especially considering that the guns can shoot from any place at any time and with eight horses attached are very mobile. We can when necessary fire six shots a minute out of each of our guns with an accuracy that is really terrible. This science of artillery is really one of the most fascinating and wonderful things that there is. You know just what you can do to a fraction and given the necessary information you can set out and when you are finished be sure that it is done. For example, with one of the guns of our battery, I could with an accurate map sit on the piazza at Garnston (another reference to the family’s summer cottage on Owasco Lake near Auburn, N.Y.) with the gun on the back lawn, figure for ten minutes, fire a certain number of shots and be absolutely certain that the railroad station in Moravia was completely destroyed without anyone having seen a shot land or even bothering to go and see where the station was to make sure. It is certain.
But enough technical information and war and guns for the present. It is spring here and perfectly beautiful and during the past year I have had so much of the former and am so fed up on it all that I don’t care too much about doing any more with it all than I can help. The thing that I would like more than anything else just now would be to sit down at home with the family and the dogs and be clean and comfortable and quiet for an indefinite period of time. And more than that, stay in one place for a little while. The first thing any one does after arriving any where over here now is to wonder where the next place you are going to will be and how long it will be before you go there. Usually it is about a week and you go to the place that seems least possible of all those that you have figured on and you are warned about ten minutes before you start.
That, as you can imagine is a bit trying on one’s good nature and a bit hard on the personal belongings. I have things scattered from one end of France to the other and if ever I get the chance it will take me at least a week to collect them, traveling all the time. Some people are in a worse fix than I for they don’t even know where theirs are.
This is about all I have time for now so good bye, and best luck for your recovery which I feel sure is quite complete by now. With love, Paul
Letter written April 13, 1918
Dear Mother:-
I suppose that by this time you think that I am at least dead or a prisoner or something of that order but not at all for it is simply that I have not been able to write. I was sent away from the front on an official trip of a sort and have had till now absolutely no chance to write. During the course of my move I had about ten hours in Paris and managed to see Mildred Woodruff and have lunch with her. Paris, as you can well imagine, isn’t exactly gay but nevertheless I would certainly have liked to stay a week. Two months in a cold, lonely, and not too safe observation post may be in some ways an education in itself but it, if nothing else, brings out the desire for civilization, comfort and luxury. I will write more later but just now must stop. With love, Paul
I suppose that by this time you think that I am at least dead or a prisoner or something of that order but not at all for it is simply that I have not been able to write. I was sent away from the front on an official trip of a sort and have had till now absolutely no chance to write. During the course of my move I had about ten hours in Paris and managed to see Mildred Woodruff and have lunch with her. Paris, as you can well imagine, isn’t exactly gay but nevertheless I would certainly have liked to stay a week. Two months in a cold, lonely, and not too safe observation post may be in some ways an education in itself but it, if nothing else, brings out the desire for civilization, comfort and luxury. I will write more later but just now must stop. With love, Paul
Letter written April 7, 1918
(For the duration of World War I, Paris was a train ride of only several hours from the battlefront, and Paul Hills made the trip to Paris several times on leave. On one of those brief trips, he met one of his many Auburn cousins, Mildred Woodruff, then living and working in Paris; she then wrote “Cousin Alice,” Paul’s mother, an account. It reads a little like scenes from a World War I novel, but it was a fact, not fiction, that the battlefront was somewhere between 50 and 75 miles from Paris for most of the war. Many American civilians were a part of the city’s international community from 1914 to 1918, and of course thousands of Allied military personnel were on duty there during the war. –Ed.)
Dear Cousin Alice (Paul’s Mother):
I almost hate to tell you that I have seen Paul again, but next best to seeing him yourself is hearing from someone who has, so I want to get a letter right off to you.
Friday morning early I was out in front waiting for a car when I saw a taxi stop in front of our apartment house and a good-looking American officer get out. Knowing that we are the only Americans living in this house I knew there was an even chance of its being someone for me, so I went back and to my surprise and delight discovered it was Paul – although I hardly recognized him at first with a mustache. He had arrived at midnight and was leaving again at five – had the 6 a.m. train not been taken off he would not have been able to stop over, so we thought we were in luck. He had come to ask me to have lunch with him and as I happened to be having a vacation I very promptly accepted. I met him at Brentano’s and he took me to the Café de Paris for lunch and I never had such a meal. He was all for going all through the long menu, but the waiter was forced to remind him that they were only allowed to serve three courses. However, by serving salad with the meat and forgetting to count the hors d’oeuvres, they managed to give us a marvelous lunch. Paul was so interesting that I almost forgot to eat. We did a bit of shopping together and he sent Cousin Will (Paul’s father, William – Ed.) a book, but we finally gave up trying to get anything for you, because we did not seem able to find just the right thing. He was so sweet and I am sure he did not think anything we saw was quite good enough for you. Next we took a taxi up to the Etoile and then walked almost the entire length of the Champs Elysees, just plain taking in the sights. We ended up by sitting outside a café – always an amusing pastime. We ran across a Buffalo boy who had been in Section 5 with Paul, (Section 5 was the ambulance unit attached to the French Army in which Paul Hills served before the U.S. troops reached France in 1917. –Ed.) so he joined us and I never heard more interesting, thrilling conversation. Paul had his orderly with him and I only regretted not getting a look at him. It was such fun walking with him and seeing all the exchange of salutes. I can assure you that I was pretty proud of my handsome young cousin. He looked and seemed very well, but we agree that we would be pretty glad to have this hideous war over and to get home. I don’t think any of us who are over here will ever again complain of Auburn being too quiet.
I am so sorry that Cousin Will (Paul’s father – Ed.) has been ill and glad to hear he is so much better. What a winter it has been!
Paris is very hectic these days, but tremendously thrilling as you can imagine.
My love to you both- Always affectionately, Mildred Woodruff
Dear Cousin Alice (Paul’s Mother):
I almost hate to tell you that I have seen Paul again, but next best to seeing him yourself is hearing from someone who has, so I want to get a letter right off to you.
Friday morning early I was out in front waiting for a car when I saw a taxi stop in front of our apartment house and a good-looking American officer get out. Knowing that we are the only Americans living in this house I knew there was an even chance of its being someone for me, so I went back and to my surprise and delight discovered it was Paul – although I hardly recognized him at first with a mustache. He had arrived at midnight and was leaving again at five – had the 6 a.m. train not been taken off he would not have been able to stop over, so we thought we were in luck. He had come to ask me to have lunch with him and as I happened to be having a vacation I very promptly accepted. I met him at Brentano’s and he took me to the Café de Paris for lunch and I never had such a meal. He was all for going all through the long menu, but the waiter was forced to remind him that they were only allowed to serve three courses. However, by serving salad with the meat and forgetting to count the hors d’oeuvres, they managed to give us a marvelous lunch. Paul was so interesting that I almost forgot to eat. We did a bit of shopping together and he sent Cousin Will (Paul’s father, William – Ed.) a book, but we finally gave up trying to get anything for you, because we did not seem able to find just the right thing. He was so sweet and I am sure he did not think anything we saw was quite good enough for you. Next we took a taxi up to the Etoile and then walked almost the entire length of the Champs Elysees, just plain taking in the sights. We ended up by sitting outside a café – always an amusing pastime. We ran across a Buffalo boy who had been in Section 5 with Paul, (Section 5 was the ambulance unit attached to the French Army in which Paul Hills served before the U.S. troops reached France in 1917. –Ed.) so he joined us and I never heard more interesting, thrilling conversation. Paul had his orderly with him and I only regretted not getting a look at him. It was such fun walking with him and seeing all the exchange of salutes. I can assure you that I was pretty proud of my handsome young cousin. He looked and seemed very well, but we agree that we would be pretty glad to have this hideous war over and to get home. I don’t think any of us who are over here will ever again complain of Auburn being too quiet.
I am so sorry that Cousin Will (Paul’s father – Ed.) has been ill and glad to hear he is so much better. What a winter it has been!
Paris is very hectic these days, but tremendously thrilling as you can imagine.
My love to you both- Always affectionately, Mildred Woodruff
Letter written March 29, 1918
Dear Papa-:
I was tremendously sorry to hear that you had been sick and hope by the time that you get this you will be well enough to feel as tho you had never had anything the matter with you.
As for me I am doing exactly the same thing now as I started in on about the first of February. As you can well imagine I am just about fed up with observation and looking forward to nothing as much as a change. No matter what variety. My work I suppose is as interesting as any other and I hope is doing as much for the country. However eight hours of work and then eight hours of rest day after day for two months with most days pretty much alike is bound to get a bit tiresome. What some writer said about modern war was the truest and about the most correct definition I have ever heard. He said that modern war was damn dirty, damn dull and damn dangerous. There are changes, however, and it is those that keep things from getting overpowering. This afternoon for example at the beginning it was clear. We saw a crowd of Bosche come out of the woods about nine kilometers off with a wagon and start to unload a lot of material. We located them, reported them in and a battery started in on them. The first shots weren’t very close and gave them time to get away. You should have seen those Dutchmen scatter. I don’t believe we hit any but at least we discouraged their architectural efforts for the day. That is just one of the things we do, although our main task is spotting and helping put our guns on German batteries that are shooting at us. There is really a great deal of satisfaction in catching a battery in action, directing the old heavies until they land right on it and then see it suddenly cease firing. You really feel as tho you had done something. It is a great deal as tho the guns were at Garnston (the Hills summer cottage on the west shore of Owasco Lake near Auburn –Ed.) behind the hill and I was on top of the hill with a telephone to you, telling you how your shots were landing on Scipio Center or Woods Pond (small communities several miles distant –Ed.) Quite a bit cold blooded and distant but when things get all tuned up and working perfectly and you can move your shots around just as tho you were there yourself it doesn’t seem that way at all. Then there are other times too when Fritzy gets angry at something and heaves over something like a garbage can full of Melinite. It comes at you like a train of cars, blows up like a thunderstorm and completely changes the topography of about a half acre of ground. You sit still and hope and wonder where the next one is going to land. Those times aren’t nearly as nice or interesting but it’s all in the day’s work.
It is great of you to keep sending me the newspaper clippings and they really make me feel as tho I was not quite as far away as I really am. This is all now, good bye, hoping you are better. With love, Paul
I was tremendously sorry to hear that you had been sick and hope by the time that you get this you will be well enough to feel as tho you had never had anything the matter with you.
As for me I am doing exactly the same thing now as I started in on about the first of February. As you can well imagine I am just about fed up with observation and looking forward to nothing as much as a change. No matter what variety. My work I suppose is as interesting as any other and I hope is doing as much for the country. However eight hours of work and then eight hours of rest day after day for two months with most days pretty much alike is bound to get a bit tiresome. What some writer said about modern war was the truest and about the most correct definition I have ever heard. He said that modern war was damn dirty, damn dull and damn dangerous. There are changes, however, and it is those that keep things from getting overpowering. This afternoon for example at the beginning it was clear. We saw a crowd of Bosche come out of the woods about nine kilometers off with a wagon and start to unload a lot of material. We located them, reported them in and a battery started in on them. The first shots weren’t very close and gave them time to get away. You should have seen those Dutchmen scatter. I don’t believe we hit any but at least we discouraged their architectural efforts for the day. That is just one of the things we do, although our main task is spotting and helping put our guns on German batteries that are shooting at us. There is really a great deal of satisfaction in catching a battery in action, directing the old heavies until they land right on it and then see it suddenly cease firing. You really feel as tho you had done something. It is a great deal as tho the guns were at Garnston (the Hills summer cottage on the west shore of Owasco Lake near Auburn –Ed.) behind the hill and I was on top of the hill with a telephone to you, telling you how your shots were landing on Scipio Center or Woods Pond (small communities several miles distant –Ed.) Quite a bit cold blooded and distant but when things get all tuned up and working perfectly and you can move your shots around just as tho you were there yourself it doesn’t seem that way at all. Then there are other times too when Fritzy gets angry at something and heaves over something like a garbage can full of Melinite. It comes at you like a train of cars, blows up like a thunderstorm and completely changes the topography of about a half acre of ground. You sit still and hope and wonder where the next one is going to land. Those times aren’t nearly as nice or interesting but it’s all in the day’s work.
It is great of you to keep sending me the newspaper clippings and they really make me feel as tho I was not quite as far away as I really am. This is all now, good bye, hoping you are better. With love, Paul
Letter written March 25, 1918
Dear Mother-:
Well, I have finally acquired the long lost and much anticipated Xmas boxes and they are wonderful. They came yesterday afternoon and if my system ever recovers from the shock I gave it there is hope that I will get thru the war. The fruit cake like all good things do must have improved with age for it was remarkably good and didn’t seem stale at all. (Paul changes to pencil at this point)The ink seems to have given out hence the change in technique. The woolen things too were great and in spite of the fact that summer is nearly here will come in very nicely for I haven’t worn anything cotton in so long , not even sheets by the way, that I can’t imagine what it would feel like. Those little sweaters too of which I now have four are one of the best inventions produced by the war, doing duty for undershirts, sleeping garments or just extra warmth. Thank Mrs. Clark too very much for her little addition. I haven’t managed to eat them yet but am sure that they will be fine. It was great of her to remember me. The last two days have not only been banner ones in every way in that my long-lost uniform which I had thought gone for good came and although I had already bought another it will be welcome and I can be a “jeune officier tres pimpant” (very natty young officer- Ed.) This afternoon I took a bicycle ride to see some people I know – while I was off duty. The weather was perfect and it certainly seems as tho spring had really arrived for some of the little bushes are beginning to have leaves and the grass is quite green everywhere. We are all just now tremendously excited over the Bosche attack on the English and everybody is as anxious for news as tho they were not in war at all. If only they can really give the Dutch a good rub this time it seems to me that it must be if not the end at least some where near it. The whole war when you look at it from a sane, cool point of view is hard to believe. The forces of the whole world all entered on one end – destruction – and as a matter of fact doing a fair job of it. Heavens what a terrific inextricable mess the whole world is in. This is all now - Good bye With love Paul
Well, I have finally acquired the long lost and much anticipated Xmas boxes and they are wonderful. They came yesterday afternoon and if my system ever recovers from the shock I gave it there is hope that I will get thru the war. The fruit cake like all good things do must have improved with age for it was remarkably good and didn’t seem stale at all. (Paul changes to pencil at this point)The ink seems to have given out hence the change in technique. The woolen things too were great and in spite of the fact that summer is nearly here will come in very nicely for I haven’t worn anything cotton in so long , not even sheets by the way, that I can’t imagine what it would feel like. Those little sweaters too of which I now have four are one of the best inventions produced by the war, doing duty for undershirts, sleeping garments or just extra warmth. Thank Mrs. Clark too very much for her little addition. I haven’t managed to eat them yet but am sure that they will be fine. It was great of her to remember me. The last two days have not only been banner ones in every way in that my long-lost uniform which I had thought gone for good came and although I had already bought another it will be welcome and I can be a “jeune officier tres pimpant” (very natty young officer- Ed.) This afternoon I took a bicycle ride to see some people I know – while I was off duty. The weather was perfect and it certainly seems as tho spring had really arrived for some of the little bushes are beginning to have leaves and the grass is quite green everywhere. We are all just now tremendously excited over the Bosche attack on the English and everybody is as anxious for news as tho they were not in war at all. If only they can really give the Dutch a good rub this time it seems to me that it must be if not the end at least some where near it. The whole war when you look at it from a sane, cool point of view is hard to believe. The forces of the whole world all entered on one end – destruction – and as a matter of fact doing a fair job of it. Heavens what a terrific inextricable mess the whole world is in. This is all now - Good bye With love Paul
Monday, June 30, 2008
Letter written March 24, 1918
Dear Mother-:
Well here I am as usual in my O.P. (observation post) doing the same as I have done every day since I arrived while outside it is a beautiful Palm Sunday, as warm and bright as any one could possibly wish for and for a wonder with very little war going on. For quite a long time you could sit here and not even be persuaded that there is a war and a very terrible one going on. Then from one side or the other comes a burst of sound that is for all the world like a boiler factory. The shells that have been fired pass by with that uncouth sucking shrieking whistle that they make and then everyingis quiet again.
When I said I would probably have my Xmas boxes for Easter I was nearer the truth than I had any idea of. For yesterday they arrived in the regiment at the horse lines and now all I have to do is to send someone to go and get them for me. The mills of the gods certainly are slow. As for the uniform, I have given that up as a bad job and bought another one which I can just about wear out by the time the first one gets here. When I think of the civilian clothes I have left at home it rather makes me smile and I imagine that if they are of any use to anybody they had better be used up since by the time this war is over they will either be ruined by age or so out of date that they will be done.
I have gotten letters lately from the most surprising people. One from Kit Hunt andthen one from Emily Avery (friends from Auburn) and from a couple of boys I hardly knew at college. I wonder if it is whether they have just realized I am gone or just begun to miss me. I flatter myself it is the latter but rather think it is the former. Good bye. Paul
Well here I am as usual in my O.P. (observation post) doing the same as I have done every day since I arrived while outside it is a beautiful Palm Sunday, as warm and bright as any one could possibly wish for and for a wonder with very little war going on. For quite a long time you could sit here and not even be persuaded that there is a war and a very terrible one going on. Then from one side or the other comes a burst of sound that is for all the world like a boiler factory. The shells that have been fired pass by with that uncouth sucking shrieking whistle that they make and then everyingis quiet again.
When I said I would probably have my Xmas boxes for Easter I was nearer the truth than I had any idea of. For yesterday they arrived in the regiment at the horse lines and now all I have to do is to send someone to go and get them for me. The mills of the gods certainly are slow. As for the uniform, I have given that up as a bad job and bought another one which I can just about wear out by the time the first one gets here. When I think of the civilian clothes I have left at home it rather makes me smile and I imagine that if they are of any use to anybody they had better be used up since by the time this war is over they will either be ruined by age or so out of date that they will be done.
I have gotten letters lately from the most surprising people. One from Kit Hunt andthen one from Emily Avery (friends from Auburn) and from a couple of boys I hardly knew at college. I wonder if it is whether they have just realized I am gone or just begun to miss me. I flatter myself it is the latter but rather think it is the former. Good bye. Paul
Letter dated March 24, 1918
Dear Nannoo (Grandmother Woodruff)-:
(Ed: Paul begins this letter with a long, apologetic explanation to his grandmother of how his personal financial affairs had become entangled and would be rectified at the first opportunity, before returning to report on life at the front)
I am still doing just what I have been for the last months and a half – observation work. I sit up in my airy perch and in the day time try to plot out the Bosche in his evil doings and give directions how to shoot him and at night do the same thing with the addition of watching for rocket signals which appear in every conceivable color and shape. My mania for fireworks is gradually being satisfied. You should hear the sector when it really gets fully going. Imagine ten thousand gigantic iron horses galloping wild and loose over the country and you have some idea of what it is like at least that is the only thing it ever seems like to me. The guns seem to just trample and trample and bellow and snort. And the funny part of it all is that to set the whole thing going all that is necessary is to lift one of those silly little French telephones from its hook and say about three words.This is about all now, Nannoo. I am sorry as the very deuce about that money business and will do everything I can to make it right as soon as I can.
Good bye With love, Paul
(Ed: Paul begins this letter with a long, apologetic explanation to his grandmother of how his personal financial affairs had become entangled and would be rectified at the first opportunity, before returning to report on life at the front)
I am still doing just what I have been for the last months and a half – observation work. I sit up in my airy perch and in the day time try to plot out the Bosche in his evil doings and give directions how to shoot him and at night do the same thing with the addition of watching for rocket signals which appear in every conceivable color and shape. My mania for fireworks is gradually being satisfied. You should hear the sector when it really gets fully going. Imagine ten thousand gigantic iron horses galloping wild and loose over the country and you have some idea of what it is like at least that is the only thing it ever seems like to me. The guns seem to just trample and trample and bellow and snort. And the funny part of it all is that to set the whole thing going all that is necessary is to lift one of those silly little French telephones from its hook and say about three words.This is about all now, Nannoo. I am sorry as the very deuce about that money business and will do everything I can to make it right as soon as I can.
Good bye With love, Paul
Letter dated March 19, 1918
Dear Nannoo (Grandmother Caroline Beardsley Woodruff)-:
A perfectly great package of sox came from you day before yesterday and I want to thank you ever so much for them. They came in very nicely as I have been separated from the world without, so to speak, for over six weeks and without my heavy baggage was beginning to get rather short on things to wear generally.
As Mother has probably told you I have been at the front now for six weeks and over, after leaving school and although life here is never what might be termed enjoyable I imagine that I am making out with it all in an as agreeable style as is possible. My work is forward observation for the artillery which is particularly interesting if for no other reason from the fact that you see everything that is going on and have a hand in it all and more than that what you do see has a great deal to do with what does go on. Happily enough too spring seems to have come to stay and the weather during the last two weeks has been wonderful, quite warm and clear and dry. We have started to make a garden on top of our dugout – it seems queer, doesn’t it, that such things should amuse people whose present object in life is destruction. However it does and although some morning we will go to look for our garden and it won’t be there, it is fun making it in the quieter times.
Hearing about Papa’s being sick really upset me quite a bit and although I suppose he will be well again soon it gave me quite a turn being so absolutely separated and not really knowing within a month just what was happening at home.
The dogs must be perfectly great now. Mother sent me a picture of them which came yesterday and it certainly seems as tho Tar Baby had outgrown all his children’s ailments for he appears to be quite as large and upstanding now as Tyrant.
There isn’t a great deal more to say now, Nannoo, and besides it is getting close to four o’clock in the morning when my turn to go to bed comes so good bye
With love, Paul
A perfectly great package of sox came from you day before yesterday and I want to thank you ever so much for them. They came in very nicely as I have been separated from the world without, so to speak, for over six weeks and without my heavy baggage was beginning to get rather short on things to wear generally.
As Mother has probably told you I have been at the front now for six weeks and over, after leaving school and although life here is never what might be termed enjoyable I imagine that I am making out with it all in an as agreeable style as is possible. My work is forward observation for the artillery which is particularly interesting if for no other reason from the fact that you see everything that is going on and have a hand in it all and more than that what you do see has a great deal to do with what does go on. Happily enough too spring seems to have come to stay and the weather during the last two weeks has been wonderful, quite warm and clear and dry. We have started to make a garden on top of our dugout – it seems queer, doesn’t it, that such things should amuse people whose present object in life is destruction. However it does and although some morning we will go to look for our garden and it won’t be there, it is fun making it in the quieter times.
Hearing about Papa’s being sick really upset me quite a bit and although I suppose he will be well again soon it gave me quite a turn being so absolutely separated and not really knowing within a month just what was happening at home.
The dogs must be perfectly great now. Mother sent me a picture of them which came yesterday and it certainly seems as tho Tar Baby had outgrown all his children’s ailments for he appears to be quite as large and upstanding now as Tyrant.
There isn’t a great deal more to say now, Nannoo, and besides it is getting close to four o’clock in the morning when my turn to go to bed comes so good bye
With love, Paul
Letter dated March 17, 1918
Dear Mother-:
Your two letters telling about Papa’s being sick came yesterday and the day before and upset me more than I can tell you. It doesn’t seem right at all in the order of things that he, always so strong, active and healthy should for no obvious reason be suddenly made temporarily an invalid. Here it is rather different and a day does not pass but that some strong man out of a perfectly clear sky is struck down and becomes suddenly simply someone that has been this or that and may be this or that when once again in the future he is on his feet. However, to have anyone in a place of peace and quiet ill seems somehow not at all fair and I can’t reconcile myself to it at all.
I am still just where I landed at the front up in my airy perch plotting out and trying to figure just what the Bosche is doing. By now tho as you can well imagine I am quite fed up with it and not a little bored. Spring seems to have fairly arrived and the weather the last week has been beautiful, quite warm and with wonderfully clear sunshiny days. Therefore I am getting less keen about staying in one place from which I only get away for two hours every other day. My leave which is due now for over a month seems to have been put off indefinitely so perhaps I may instead of going to Cannes as I had planned in the spring, it will be summer at least before I get there which is a time not so pleasant from everything I can gather.
My French is steadily getting better, I think, for I am still eating and living with a crowd of French and enjoying it as much as anything. I have dreams in French now very nearly as much as I do in English which seems to be quite an advance.
You wrote me that the coin of the realm is rather scarce at home. If you need it I can manage to send you fifty or seventy-five dollars a month for I am in the situation as long as I am at the front of not being able to spend, try as I may, the amount I get. It is the first time in my life that such a thing has happened and is certainly a unique sensation. I also the other day or rather quite a while ago spent the money I was going to send Carroll for Xmas on insuring my life in his favor for $10,000 which should anything happen I figured would help out not a little, especially since he will probably be in college then if the war doesn’t last for twenty more years.
You weren’t right in your guess about my being at (Ed: place name illegible) but tell Mr. Fougerey that I already have had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with the wine of that country.
A perfectly great package of sox came from Nannoo the other day and they were certainly welcome as I had just about run out here, having been separated from my heavy baggage for over a month. Well, this all now
Good bye. With love, Paul
Your two letters telling about Papa’s being sick came yesterday and the day before and upset me more than I can tell you. It doesn’t seem right at all in the order of things that he, always so strong, active and healthy should for no obvious reason be suddenly made temporarily an invalid. Here it is rather different and a day does not pass but that some strong man out of a perfectly clear sky is struck down and becomes suddenly simply someone that has been this or that and may be this or that when once again in the future he is on his feet. However, to have anyone in a place of peace and quiet ill seems somehow not at all fair and I can’t reconcile myself to it at all.
I am still just where I landed at the front up in my airy perch plotting out and trying to figure just what the Bosche is doing. By now tho as you can well imagine I am quite fed up with it and not a little bored. Spring seems to have fairly arrived and the weather the last week has been beautiful, quite warm and with wonderfully clear sunshiny days. Therefore I am getting less keen about staying in one place from which I only get away for two hours every other day. My leave which is due now for over a month seems to have been put off indefinitely so perhaps I may instead of going to Cannes as I had planned in the spring, it will be summer at least before I get there which is a time not so pleasant from everything I can gather.
My French is steadily getting better, I think, for I am still eating and living with a crowd of French and enjoying it as much as anything. I have dreams in French now very nearly as much as I do in English which seems to be quite an advance.
You wrote me that the coin of the realm is rather scarce at home. If you need it I can manage to send you fifty or seventy-five dollars a month for I am in the situation as long as I am at the front of not being able to spend, try as I may, the amount I get. It is the first time in my life that such a thing has happened and is certainly a unique sensation. I also the other day or rather quite a while ago spent the money I was going to send Carroll for Xmas on insuring my life in his favor for $10,000 which should anything happen I figured would help out not a little, especially since he will probably be in college then if the war doesn’t last for twenty more years.
You weren’t right in your guess about my being at (Ed: place name illegible) but tell Mr. Fougerey that I already have had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with the wine of that country.
A perfectly great package of sox came from Nannoo the other day and they were certainly welcome as I had just about run out here, having been separated from my heavy baggage for over a month. Well, this all now
Good bye. With love, Paul
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Letter dated March 1, 1918
Dear Mother:
I suppose I haven’t been much lately on the correspondence but the fact is that I haven’t at present even enough time to wash and shave let alone write letters. I am still on the same work I have been that I wrote you about that is observation but there have been a lot of changes in the men and with it all quite a lot to do so the result is that about eighteen hours a day is my average and in the remaining six I sleep and eat. It is a great life, tho in the present weather conditions, chiefly mud, rain and snow all I can do is to wish it were all over and I could come home. Shooting Bosche may be good sport in fine weather, but when you have looked out into a night as black as a hat for about four hours with the wind howling about a gale and a mixture of snow and rain in the air, all the time waiting for something to happen that didn’t happen, war loses its romance with a sickly thud, and I can’t help thinking of the people who are at home in comfortable barracks, etc. And crazy to get to France to fight.
I have one thing I am glad about, tho. I am not forgetting my French and in fact am learning more all the time. The other observation officer and myself are taking our meals and sleeping in the same dugout with the French observers who are next to us and the result is wonderful, as when we eat we eat very well, and the abri is very comfortable comparatively speaking.
How is Auburn’s crop of brides and babies coming on? I dreamed not long ago that I came back and found that the whole town was made up of nothing but orange blossoms, wedding breakfasts and baby carriages all turned out with the most surprising speed. This is about all for now for I have got to work as usual, so good bye with love, Paul
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Letter dated February 22, 1918
Dear Mother-:
The last letter I write you was I am frank to admit rather vague for the reason that I hadn’t the slightest idea what I could say and as a result sort of talked around without saying anything. Now, however, I find I can tell you a few things.
We are again at the front and as I told you, having acquitted myself at school not perhaps excellently, but at least satisfactorily I have a new job. I came directly here from school and started work immediately finding everyone tremendously busy. You can see by the papers about where our sector is and at present I am somewhere on that line. Well, to tell you what I am doing: My present work is observation. I spend twelve of every twenty-four hours sitting up in a little observatory, that looks from the outside exactly like what it isn’t, and surrounded with every variety of telescope and with a telephone control that would be the credit of a small town. I plot the destruction of the Bosche. For helpers I have an observer or two,and a couple of telephone operators. There is another lieutenant who does the same thing and has the same staff for the other twelve hours. As a matter of fact we alternate every eight hours so that no one will have either continuous day or night work. However, as we had sort of a Cox and Box existence, each only seeing the other at the end or beginning of our work, you couldn’t say we were exactly clubby. I eat and sleep in a remarkable series of quite palatial dugouts underneath and am as a whole quite enjoying myself. There is certainly a real satisfaction in finding Fritz up to something, finding out just what and where it is and then giving the instructions necessary for blowing him up. That is on lively days, tho. On quiet ones I haven’t a great deal to do but just keep looking and keep other people looking as I am now while I am writing this which I am managing to do on the telephone bench with a charcoal brazier underneath my chair to keep away the chills of a dank Washington’s birthday morning. Writing on fete days seems just now to be my forte for the last letter I turned out if I remember correctly was produced at about the same hour on Valentine day morning.Pretty soon now I will eat my breakfast cold and consisting of almost anything I can find and go to bed. I usually when I am on duty at this hour manage to get up for dejeuner which is quite the event and what is more the big meal of the day. By the way it seems to be true in the American as well as the French army that the nearer the front, the better the food for we are really living quite well and know not the hardships of meatless and wheatless days, moreover since every day is a bathless one we don’t have the hardship of those.
By the way, when you were at Wells did you ever happen to have known a woman by the name of Morgan who married a Mr. Stanton. At (artillery) school I met a boy of that name who on learning my habitat said his mother was from Aurora and went to Wells. By the bye their present home is in Cleveland.
All sorts of interesting people are turning up. Tell Papa that I have meant to tell him for a long time that there is in the regiment an Edward E. Hills from San Francisco who is a descendant of the Joseph Hills side.
Must stop now. With love, Paul
The last letter I write you was I am frank to admit rather vague for the reason that I hadn’t the slightest idea what I could say and as a result sort of talked around without saying anything. Now, however, I find I can tell you a few things.
We are again at the front and as I told you, having acquitted myself at school not perhaps excellently, but at least satisfactorily I have a new job. I came directly here from school and started work immediately finding everyone tremendously busy. You can see by the papers about where our sector is and at present I am somewhere on that line. Well, to tell you what I am doing: My present work is observation. I spend twelve of every twenty-four hours sitting up in a little observatory, that looks from the outside exactly like what it isn’t, and surrounded with every variety of telescope and with a telephone control that would be the credit of a small town. I plot the destruction of the Bosche. For helpers I have an observer or two,and a couple of telephone operators. There is another lieutenant who does the same thing and has the same staff for the other twelve hours. As a matter of fact we alternate every eight hours so that no one will have either continuous day or night work. However, as we had sort of a Cox and Box existence, each only seeing the other at the end or beginning of our work, you couldn’t say we were exactly clubby. I eat and sleep in a remarkable series of quite palatial dugouts underneath and am as a whole quite enjoying myself. There is certainly a real satisfaction in finding Fritz up to something, finding out just what and where it is and then giving the instructions necessary for blowing him up. That is on lively days, tho. On quiet ones I haven’t a great deal to do but just keep looking and keep other people looking as I am now while I am writing this which I am managing to do on the telephone bench with a charcoal brazier underneath my chair to keep away the chills of a dank Washington’s birthday morning. Writing on fete days seems just now to be my forte for the last letter I turned out if I remember correctly was produced at about the same hour on Valentine day morning.Pretty soon now I will eat my breakfast cold and consisting of almost anything I can find and go to bed. I usually when I am on duty at this hour manage to get up for dejeuner which is quite the event and what is more the big meal of the day. By the way it seems to be true in the American as well as the French army that the nearer the front, the better the food for we are really living quite well and know not the hardships of meatless and wheatless days, moreover since every day is a bathless one we don’t have the hardship of those.
By the way, when you were at Wells did you ever happen to have known a woman by the name of Morgan who married a Mr. Stanton. At (artillery) school I met a boy of that name who on learning my habitat said his mother was from Aurora and went to Wells. By the bye their present home is in Cleveland.
All sorts of interesting people are turning up. Tell Papa that I have meant to tell him for a long time that there is in the regiment an Edward E. Hills from San Francisco who is a descendant of the Joseph Hills side.
Must stop now. With love, Paul
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