I know a Red Cross Lieutenant who went over the top armed with a drum of hot tea and bag of crackers.

It's no exaggeration to say that the Y.M.C.A. was very near and dear to Grant Willard's father. W.D. Willard first became a "Y" enthusiast whilst a student at the University of Minnesota in the 1880s, and helped establish the Mankato Y.M.C.A. in 1892. He served on the board for decades and took much pride in guiding young people through the organization. So when his son went off to serve in France during the Great War, W.D. was naturally curious about the effectiveness of the Y.M.C.A. on the Western Front.

In this letter to his family, Grant speaks frankly about his displeasure with the Y.
  

Convois Autos.,
S.S.U. 647,
Par B.C.M.,
France.

Friday – July 5, 1918

Dear Family:- 

This letter is to answer one from Mother dated May 23, one from Marion dated May 20, one from Dad of June 2 and one from John of June 3. All of these letters came to me the other day when I was down with a slight attack of influenza. This blooming disease seems to be making the rounds in all armies on this side. The fever only lasts a few days but it is miserable while it lasts. We have carried many cases of this disease in our cars in the last two months.

Now I have much to tell you so might as well start right in:

First, I have lost my fountain pen – hence the pencil.

Second, that clipping you sent me regarding Harold Tucker was very interesting because it gave me the first clue of where to look for him. I thought we must be with his division but a division is scattered over such a wide area that unless one knows right where to look it is almost impossible to locate a man. When your clipping came, however, I knew right where to go and went there “tout de suite.” The report is quite true, according to a sergeant and very close friend of Harold’s who used to be in a company with him. Tuck was a sergeant in charge of an anti-tank gun. During a certain action up here, the one which you may have read in the [Literary] Digest for May 4, he and his company were caught in their dugout by the Boche and taken back somewhere into Bochland. I certainly hope he is being treated fairly well, anyway. Tuck’s a big boy and a natural fighter. I hope his strength or quick tongue won’t “do him dirt.”

The irony of the whole thing is the fact that we had been working side by side practically for a month. Ten of our cars were even attached to his regimental headquarters for awhile. Even while he was being taken I couldn’t have been very far from shouting distance from him had we both been outside and had the guns not been making such a terrific racket. We were still running cars down into the town when the Germans entered but they never got to our end of the village. It was after this little affair that eight of us went to the hospital with gas. It was during this affair and while coming up out of this village that Leo McGuire had his car picked out from in under him with only a scratch for himself and a broken collar-bone for his orderly. He has since been awarded a D.S.C. for his experience.

Tuck was doing good work, they tell me, and was very well liked among the fellows who knew him. Here’s hoping he comes back to us all right.

Now about the Y.M.C.A. work of which you have asked me several times to speak. I hope I’m fair when I say that the Y.M.C.A. has already lost a great deal of popularity among the young men in their great undertaking on this side. This is particularly true with their work in the war zone among the men who form the reserve infantry--(this is about as far front as the Y.M.C.A. goes). And before I go any further I want to say that these following statements are not made alone from personal observation but personal observation together with discussions to which I have listened, regarding this work.

There’s a lack of efficiency in the organization somewhere. I think they have selected men of too small caliber to handle their smaller departments--the men in charge of the tents and huts, I mean. Questions like this are frequently heard asked by a soldier of a soldier, “Why is it that when I go to the Y.M.C.A. to buy a can of milk they ask me 1 fr. 50 for it when I can go down to the Salvation Army or over at the Q.M. and get the same thing for 70 centimes?” The answer is often: “Oh, I don’t know.”

They’re robbers! I’m through with the Y.M.C.A. Whenever you do get a few minutes off and want to run over to the Y.M.C.A. to get something to eat they are either closed, out of stock or else they want a double price for everything.” Or it maybe this: “Go to the Salvation Army if you want to buy anything. They’re sure to be open and they won’t stick you. They’re awfully nice too.” We in the ambulance service are on the road a great deal of the time and occasionally in passing a Y.M.C.A. drop off to buy a cake of chocolate or cookies or something. It is very exasperating to find the window closed with a sign hanging up giving the hours during which articles are sold over the counter. 

During some recent action up here the Red Cross were serving chocolate and tea up in the very trenches (front line) and were furnishing cigarettes and drinks to the principle dressing stations for the wounded which were coming in rather rapidly–this all free of charge. The Salvation Army in a town a short way back were serving coffee and doughnuts night and day for 1 franc (1 large cup of hot coffee and 3 doughnuts) to the troops coming back. They had men up in the trenches to tell the officers that their men could get refreshments that night on their way out if they would stop at such and such a place. The Y.M.C.A. in the meantime were running usual hours, usual prices and usual stock (bibles, chocolate, cigars and sometimes cigarettes). The fellows noticing this couldn’t help it. One Y.M.C.A. man I know notices it also. So he bought his stock out of his own pocket and made up some chocolate and sat outside a dugout near a place where men were swarming to and from the trenches and gave out his stock of cigarettes, chocolate, hot-chocolate, etc., to the men as they passed. He has since told me that his performance, during that 48 hours which he worked there steadily almost without food himself, almost cost him his job. But here was a man who realized the narrowness of his limitations so he went ahead out of his own pocket.  He gave away his entire stock at a critical moment. He made a big hit with the men by doing so. I know a Red Cross Lieutenant who went over the top with the boys one night but instead of being armed with rifle and hand-grenade he shouldered a drum of hot tea and carried a bag of crackers. These are the men who are doing work which counts and their work is the work which will always be remembered. I’m not saying that the entertainments which the Y.M.C.A. furnishes to the officers, nurses and wounded way back of the lines are not a great success because from what we hear and read we are led to believe they are doing a great work. But up here the Y.M.C.A. shows up very weakly beside the Salvation Army and Red Cross. Have I made myself clear?

Yes, Miss Mullen and her secretary were among those killed while in church on Good Friday. Their bodies were found on Saturday so badly mutilated that their pass-ports alone told the authorities whom they had found. Miss Mullen was buried in Paris on the following Wednesday. Her secretary, Mlle. Floch, was laid away in her home in Brittany. Someday, when these cursed fools in Germany are wiped off the face of the earth, I suppose Miss Mullen’s body will be taken to Fox Lake, Wisconsin where she was born and where her father and mother are buried.

I asked the Lieutenant if he would pass the enclosed pictures and he very graciously gave his permission. Hope they reach you all right. Hang on to them because they are a very small part of a highly prized collection. The groups are of the old section #61.

Will try to write Sis and Johnnie this week.  Give Tib my sympathy in his trouble but tell him not to get discouraged.  Perfect health is essential in this work and to get perfectly well before he attempts anything in the war line again.

I must quit.

Much love to all,

Grant.