Thanksgiving Day, 1917, fell on the fifth Thursday of November. For the French, struggling through the fourth bloody autumn of war, it was just another Thursday. But for USAAS men encamped at Sandricourt, the holiday was a reminder of their homes and families far away. Grant recorded his reflections in his journal.
Friday, November 30, 1917:
Still at Sandricourt, but now in the capacity of a 1st class private instead of a “buck” private. The only difference it makes is $3 a month. We still do slaves’ work, but instead of doing it all we have learned our lesson and now loaf and dodge all the work we can. It seems a shame that men who are really serious and desirous of pushing ahead regardless of sacrifice have to
be held down to the lowest level by men who have received their officer's appointment through inside [deals]. ‘Twas ever thus and probably always will be.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving and a holiday. The morning was spent in cleaning up and airing clothes until 10:30 when practically everyone went to the service at the YMCA. We had a layman YMCA worker from the headquarters in Paris speak to us. He gave a good talk followed by a speech from the Doctor. The spirit of the whole thing was fine, but I surely do get tired of hearing the doctor talk. He’s too idealistic to be at all practical and popular.
At noon we ate turkey, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, creamed cauliflower, cabbage salad, pumpkin pie, nuts, figs, dates and drank much red and white wine. It was a very good dinner indeed. There were few in camp who had not felt the warming effect of the wine and the afternoon was noisy indeed with football and baseball.
In the evening we had a pianist and violinist in camp who gave a fine concert in the YMCA. Ed Browning and I sneaked off down to an old deserted house near here where we built a fire, and talked and wrote letters. Brownie left today to train as a “sapper.” Brownie was a fine kid, bunking next to me so that we got very well acquainted.
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