We are to stay right here for 15 days with nothing to do but dodge shells.

Several nights of aerial bombardment left Grant and his comrades a bit skittish...

Sunday, September 2, 1917:

A sun-shiny morning but cold. It rained very hard last night. I found the tent in which I had my films hung had just about dropped, but my films were not much hurt.

Don Smith and Happy Ahlers came in from the front this A.M. They reported things in very bad shape out Carrière Sud way. The road was being shelled continuously. Two gendarme told the boys as they were passing Sainte-Fine, that the road was impassable, but they went on. They met a Ford stuck in a shell hole and stopped to help him out. After they got him out and got his motor going there came a Bang! Bang! right near them and showered them with mud. They decided to hang around awhile so they stopped their motors and climbed into the nearest shelter they could find which chanced to be a ditch beside the road. The Boche were undoubtedly trying for the road for those boys sat there for an hour during which time 200 shells must have dropped around them. They tried to time the shells, planning to get out of this exposed place if they could. They seemed to be dropping them about 15 seconds apart, one at a time. Immediately after one had come in they got out and cranked their cars when Bang! Bang! two landed a short way down the road. A few seconds later 3 came in. They decided the Boche were after them in particular and stuck closer than ever to their ditch. After an hour of this torture the firing let up a bit and the boys made a dash for Carrière Sud. The blooming Boche began shrapneling them but they made the post untouched. At this point two days ago one of our cars and a Ford were hit by separate shells and blown to splinters. Another of ours had a radiator perforated and had to be towed in. The drivers of every car happened to be in the abri when the shells came so were untouched. Miraculous? Well, I should rather say so. I pray to God that He will continue to watch over us. Only 13 of the 20 cars are now in running condition, but not a man touched by shell except Geo. Reed who lost two fingers.

Reported today that we are now in repos [rest and relaxation] and are to stay right here for 15 days with nothing to do but dodge shells. The fellows pretty much peeved. I am too. There is no rest to be had here. Last night was a clear night and the Boche aviators swarmed over head bombing roads, barracks and magazines. I just had time to finish my pictures when the first bomb lit on the hill 200 yards away. Wow! Such a crash. I dropped the film in the water and beat it for an abri where I found the whole camp. Finished my pictures and went to bed. There were 3 of us in the tent, the rest in the abri. The Boche flew until 3:30 when it began to get light and they disappeared. Bombs were dropped on all sides of us, but we were left untouched. Verdun & the barracks got it particularly hard.

Monday, September 3:

Rather sleepy outfit this A.M. However the news that we leave tomorrow for a 15 day repos with very slim chances of ever coming back to this Verdun sector soon cheered the camp up to a boiling point. This has truly been a terrible strain and the fellows are showing it. The report is that we go to Alsace after repos.

The pictures came out very well.

Later. We have orders to go to Laheycourt for repos. We have been through Laheycourt on our way from Brabant and everybody is very well satisfied. How long we stay no one seems to know. Breakfast at 6:15 tomorrow A.M.

Another clear night. Took bed-roll and turned my steps toward an abri. Practically the whole camp was present. Bombs were dropped promiscuously about our neighborhood and I was glad I had repaired to the abri in preference to sleeping, or trying to sleep, in the tent. Hap Ahlers, Don Smith, the two Jacobs, Henry Kingman and Russ Stair were in our abri with several French officers.