My new aide is a young fellow named John Taylor...

On this day, Grant wrote in his diary about John Henry Taylor (1899-1994), who was his aide on his ambulances through much of WWI. Taylor's father was a naturalized U.S. citizen from England, and Taylor visited relatives in the U.K. several times during the war. 

Saturday, June 30, 1917:

Moved our barracks today to a fine building over near our eating place and near the cars. It is clean and convenient. No news as to when we are going out. Spent the day in loafing around the car.

Was shifted from aide on 12 to driver on 17. Sorry to leave Fritz Wheeler, but glad to have a car of my own. My new aide is a young fellow named John Taylor from Mountain Lakes, New Jersey, formerly of New York. He is just 17 years old with little experience. He is apparently of a very fine family for he is a peach. It is reported that his father made him come over and get in this thing. He was on hospital detail when I was there so I feel I know him pretty well. He should have companions and someone to sort of look after him. I think I am his friend. I asked Jack Townsend as soon as I knew I was to be shifted to put me on with him if he could so arrange it.

Men my age do get rough especially on a job of this kind. Their talk is rough, their actions rough, their morals lowered. For a kid so young as Johnnie it is not helpful and if he should chance to be of weak material, which I doubt, it would be very bad for him. So I say he needs someone to talk to him in his own way and do the things he likes to do in order to keep him happy. The boys in 61 are fine fellows, but older and more experienced.

We were introduced to our cars... They are dandies.

Arriving in Dijon, Section 61 was quartered in the ramshackle old Dijon Athletic Club...

Tuesday, June 26, 1917:

Arrived at Dijon at 6 P.M. Didn’t sleep a wink all night long. Am feeling rather grouchy. We were taken to a little old shack in the heart of Dijon filled with straw and were told that we were to sleep there. Jack Townsend picked out a nice room and held it for five of us. I was one. When I was in the hospital at Sandricourt my cot was taken away from me and given to someone else. Didn’t have time to go around to 7, Rue François Premier for a new one so I am out one cot. The straw came in very handy and with the assistance of a bed made a very comfortable bed.

We were introduced to our cars this P.M.-- 20 brand-new Fiats with a staff car. They are dandies. We weren’t allowed to touch them. We eat at a place about one mile from our “club,” in a place which used to be a Catholic school, but is now a French barracks. The food is good and sufficient, but slight in variety.

Breakfast -- coffee and bread.

Dinner -- soup, stew, potatoes, bread, wine.

Supper -- meat, potatoes, vegetable, bread, wine. We usually supply ourselves with confiture (jam) to replace butter.

Slept all afternoon and went to bed soon after supper.

Felt like a million dollars.

Monday, June 25, 1917:

At 8:30 this morning we lined up for the final roll call before leaving Sandricourt. Section 61 is made up of 45 fellows. They look pretty fine in their uniforms. We walked about 3 miles to Bornel where we caught the 9:30 train for Paris. Colonel Whyte saw us off and gave us a farewell speech which was very fatherly and full of advice. We were not as sorry to leave as he would like to have had us, I think.

11 o’clock found us in Paris. Don Smith, Happy Ahlers, “Jake” Jacob and myself had a dandy meal at Cafe de la Paix. After dinner I went to Hotel Sylvia where I got my tobacco, a bath and clean clothes and shave. Felt like a million dollars. At 4:30 I met Miss Mullen, Mlle. Floch, Tish and “Cuppie” Sharp at the Ritz where we had tea. “Cuppie” and I had to leave for our train at 5 so we didn’t visit very long. Miss Mullen insisted on making it her party.

We left Paris for Dijon at 6:30, 2nd class.

I dislike leaving this place very much...

When we last heard from Grant two weeks ago he was laid up with a sprained ankle and unable to take part in all the training and camaraderie with his fellow volunteers. Now he prepares to leave Sandricourt and start his work.




 

Sunday, June 24, 1917

Dear People:-

Four days on my own feet without assistance and feeling fine. I surely was glad to leave the hospital. Have gotten back into the regular fatigue details, though they haven’t assigned me anything very severe as yet. Am wearing a brace on my ankle but it holds up very well without it.

Tomorrow A.M. about 40 of us leave for Paris. We are called Section 61 and leave for the front tomorrow night. Our whole section is to be equipped with Fiat cars which are said to be waiting for us at our destination “somewhere in France.” They are all new cars for which we are duly grateful. I am very glad we aren’t driving Fords as most of the sections are and will be.

There is considerable work to be done in preparation for the section’s departure. We aren’t allowed to carry much baggage with us so I have been busy today looking over and sorting my possessions, polishing up my uniform and labeling everything I intend to take with me.

In some ways I dislike leaving this place very much – 1st, because of its beauty, 2nd, because there is an awfully nice crowd of fellows here and leaving means parting with many perhaps for good, 3rd, because I have hardly had time to see as much of the surrounding country and chateaux as I would like. But offsetting all this is the fact that we go from here into the service for which we came and Section 61, in my estimation, is made up of the cream of the camp. I was very fortunate to have the opportunity to be in one of them. [Allen "Happy"] Ahlers and Don Smith are in 61 and all of the fellows in room A where I am living and with whom I have associated most while where.

Of course, the sections will be separated all along the front. The American Red Cross is gradually taking over the French Ambulance Service and as one of their section withdraws we replace it. Each section serves a Division. It is reported that the reason we have been delayed this long is because the Division which has us in charge is in – or rather, has been – in indefinite repos and that we have had to wait for orders from the French Government. Our section leader was out last week to look us over and check up our equipment. He seems like a very nice man and surely made a strong impression on the fellows. I was in the hospital when he came so couldn’t appear for kit inspection. He came up to the hospital to look mine over and I had a chance to talk with him. He’s a real man.

Now I must quit for they want the table I am writing on. Address as before.

Much love,

Grant.


7 Rue François Premier,
Paris, France.

Section Sixty-one

Henry Selden Kingman (1893-1968) was a volunteer from Minnesota in Grant's section of the Norton-Harjes Ambulance. They served together until the unit's dissolution in the fall of 1917. His letters home were published in a book called Section sixty-one: selections from letters of Henry S. Kingman, member S.S.A.U. 61, Norton Harjes Ambulance Corps, May to October, 1917.

Kingman's book is an invaluable primary source for historians of the volunteer American ambulance services in the First World War. It is also useful for filling in details missing from Grant's diary and letters. He described his experience in France in great detail.

(Incidentally, after the war he became a respected banker in the Midwest. As president of the Farmers &; Mechanics Savings Bank in Minneapolis he helped Grant get a position there in 1945.)

Below is a letter Kingman wrote to his parents on June 22, 1917:

Sandricourt, June 22, 1917.

My dear Father and Mother: After a month of beautiful weather we're taking a dose of two days' rain, showers, clouded skies and cold. The camp runs with a slimy oozing mud-but rubber boots and slickers keep one comfortable. Two nights ago a violent thunderstorm raised havoc with the poor lads in the barns and tents, while one tent blew down and all but floated away. But there's little complaint on any side, which is quite remarkable, as three weeks in one place with continued disappointments as to our going wears on one's nerves.

Two sections have been made up since I last wrote. Section Sixty-one includes all the old men here with about a dozen of the newer arrivals-George Reed and Tut Stair also being in the list. Our section commander is to be a Mr. Bullard who's had a year's experience at the front. He gave us a talk Sunday last and appears to be a thoroughly fine fellow. We are to have a French section-it being a section held in reserve by the French government to replace any section which has run out of cars. There are to be twenty new Fiat cars I understand and about five staff cars for transport, officers, etc. The cars are supposed to be at Dijon and to be ready at any time, which is getting to be an old story, of course. Whether we will pick them up at Dijon or be met with them in Paris, no one seems to know.

It's been an interesting week outside of the routine life. The boys have begun contributing to French production-which is a very sane proposition. Harvesting has begun with hay the initial crop, but it will soon be followed by the other grains. About twenty men go from camp each day to nearby farms where they stack and pitch hay from seven A.M. to five P.M. I had my turn at it Monday -but saved a sore back by the fact that an early morning rain made the hay too wet. Result was the six of us spent a very pleasant half holiday. After a round of milk at the farm house, we hunted out a guide to show us thru a chateau that lay close by, not a very large estate but extremely rare in its trees and woods with a stream running close by the chateau itself. The grounds were in very good condition considering no one was living there this summer. The formal flower gardens looked beautiful with their plan and straight edges but upon closer examination the vegetation in them proved to be potatoes and haricots verts, which shows the extent of intensive cultivation. The man opened the chateau for us and showed it from cellar to garret.

Of course, it was not in perfect condition-all the real valuables had been removed -but with an hour or two of preliminaries it could have been made very habitable. These chateaux in exterior are all very similar, large white four-cornered affairs, extremely plain, but here we had opportunity to see the interior furnishings with their beautiful paneled walls, dark oak, hand carved, while tapestried walls in the bedrooms made a similar effect to our own wall-papered ones. But what surprised me was the real hominess of the outfit. I had always imagined them so cold-but no doubt the rugs and furniture softened the various rooms. The blankets were even on some of the beds-the latter beautiful four-posters each set off in a little niche back of the main room-while a small staircase, usually spiral, always led to a small chamber above the room for the valet or femme de chamber.

But we've broken into more than vacant chateau life. Fritz and Libby discovered a treat and included me on their second visit. In the course of their walk one afternoon they came to these chateau grounds-two miles from here- rang a huge bell to see what would happen and were given entrance. They understood the gateman to say that it was an old ladies' home but it developed to be more than that. So yesterday the three of us went. At this chateau lives Madame Dupret and her twenty-year-old son. The latter speaks a little English while his mother speaks understandable French. It was truly delightful there sitting in a French parlor-with all the glory of a habitable chateau-the books and pictures -flowers galore about the room-high white paneled walls. There were two ladies calling upon Madame so our attentions were entirely confined to the young man. But Madame overlooked nothing in the way of serving delicious tea which was made more so by the addition of a flavor of rum. Cakes and cigarettes were also served and they couldn't do enough for us. We talked of the war, French, English, and American customs, and closed the call with a beautiful walk thru their gardens. The boy is home for a month, having been wounded in the side and is now convalescent. He's a second lieutenant in the Alpine Chasseurs--the highest type of infantry service in the French army; his mother a delightful woman and most hospitable. They begged us to come again and the boy walked some distance with us on the way home. I think we shall make several calls if we remain here long. I think it must be a joy for the boy and his mother to have someone for company. The father died several years ago.

Besides this break into French society I attended a wedding a week ago; a young couple invited all those who wanted to come. The farm where we went lies a mile up over the hill and we poured in there fifty strong shortly after supper. After a wait, the couple and bridal party showed up, and here in this French farm-yard we were a merry party. Andrews contributed his accordion for the music, and the boys danced with the three girls in the bridal party, while the bride and groom looked on wreathed in smiles. We took up a hat collection of about forty francs for a wedding present, and the beauty of it was that the groom thought it for the music and wanted to contribute. Then they served a litre of white wine all around and we drank to the “little poilu.” Cakes were produced and everyone had a good time. The groom in his blue uniform made a splendid figure, while the bride was a true French dairy-maid. That concludes the big events of the week barring the best, which is always the arrival of mail; and the gods were good to me with at least a dozen letters most of them from you. More later with much love to you all.

Ever affectionately, HENRY.

It is a beautiful country place many miles from Paris

“Somewhere in France.”

June 9, 1917.

Dear People:-

I wish to announce at the start that I am now in the war zone and am permitted to say very little about where I am and what I am doing.

We left Paris Wednesday A.M. at 6:15 giving us one day short of a week in that most wonderful city. I think of all the cities I ever saw Paris is by far the most artistically beautiful. The foliage is very heavy and green. Trees and shrubs grow everywhere and are very well kept. All things green are well watered and have the appearance of being perfectly kept. All of the old historical buildings and parks are so arranged and protected as to show them off to the best advantage. That the Champs-Elysees is the “most beautiful thoroughfare in the world” cannot be disputed. From the Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile one can look straight down this beautiful street for at least a mile to the Place de la Concorde, a beautiful square, reputed to be the finest in Europe. And I could go on raving about every thing we saw in Paris in the same fashion. It being necessary to stay pretty close to our headquarters we didn’t have a great deal of time for sight-seeing but were never idle during our spare moments.

I wish I could picture to you as best I could our present location. Suffice it to say that it is a beautiful country place many miles from Paris. Our quarters are clean and wholesome. Our “chiefs” are fine and we are now under strict military regulations. All of our boys are not here yet but we expect the remainder to arrive tomorrow. The purpose of our being here is to get into good physical condition for a drive work at the front. The first section expects to leave for the front next week. I hope to be ready to go with the second section which leaves. We are now engaged in doing all manner of manual labor, from peeling potatoes to sawing timber.

Speaking of sawing timber reminds me that I am writing this letter from the hospital where I have been confined since yesterday with another sprained ankle or rather, the same old sprained ankle. It’s nothing serious. I simply jumped from a limb of the tree we were making tooth picks of and landed on a bough and turned my ankle. They certainly have taken good care of me. Tomorrow they plan on taking me into Paris to have the darned thing X-rayed. I shall be very much disappointed if they don’t let me get back on it in a couple of days. They have a regular doctor out here but I don’t believe he has an awful lot of confidence in himself so he is going to turn me over to a Paris doctor. I don’t want to go in a bit but “orders is orders” in a military camp. Maybe I’ll find out what in Sam Hill is the matter with my joints that they slip out so easily.

When my ankle was aching the worst last night and I was cursing everything in general what should come in but a letter from Dorothy. It was a peach. I slept like a log and all the pain has left my ankle. I was looking for a letter from you on this last boat, the Rochambeau, sailing from New York on the 26th of May. Maybe it will come this afternoon.

The Houghtons have rented their home and are going west, as you will undoubtedly know by the time this letter reaches you. Dorothy plans on being in Minneapolis part of the time. I hope she gets down to Mankato. I feel positive that she will make as big a hit with you as she did with me but no one could ever love her as I do. Those of you who have already been through it will understand and I hope that those of you who haven’t may some day have that privilege but don’t come to France in the middle of it.

I hope my next letter to you will be written from the front, sublime though this life may be.

Please tell all my friends that I am well and as happy as circumstances will permit and that letters and papers are very much appreciated. There is nothing I want in the way of clothing. Sweets are always welcome anywhere in France. Good American smoking tobacco is very much in demand.

Much love,

Grant.

We walked about 5 miles to Sandricourt

In September of 1908, Robert Goelet of New York purchased a French chateau at Sandricourt for $300,000 (more than $7 million today). Sandricourt was known as one of the finest shooting estates near Paris, and continues to be to this day. 

Sandricourt 2010

During WWI, Goelet lent the use of a farm on his estate to the American volunteer ambulance corps for training purposes. Grant Willard and his fellow volunteers ended up spending a lot of time at Sandricourt during the war.   

Robert Goelet's son, John, continues to live at the chateau and runs his varied enterprises from there.
 
Wednesday, June 6, 1917:

On Monday, June 4, a list was posted at headquarters of those who were to be ready to leave at 6 A.M. on the following Wednesday for Sandricourt. The rest of our time in Paris was spent in final preparations e.g. transferring passports for blue-books, which took much signing of blanks, getting issued equipment, buying what else we thought necessary, and packing and arranging to leave all civilian clothes behind. Monday I was measured for a uniform, but left too soon even for a try on.

Miss Mullen got up at 6 A.M. to see us off. What do you know about that? At Méru we were met by "Happy" Ahlers, [Henry] Kingman and Colonel Whyte and an automobile. Then we walked about 5 miles to Sandricourt. Our baggage was carried in the car. At Sandricourt Chief Jacobson took us in hand, read us camp rules and assigned us to our respective rooms. We were put in what was known as Room E. Mr. Jacobson’s a peach.
 

This Sandricourt base is a big château owned by Mr. Goelet, an American, and offered to the French Government for whatever to which they may choose to put it. It is the 2nd largest game preserve in France.

Norton-Harjes men in the farm yard.

The farm in 2010.

Farm yard 2010

The strawberries are luscious now.

Saturday, June 2:

This is the day for the big party over at an artist’s studio thru Miss Mullen and Mr. Symons. At 6:30 the whole gang of us who had such good times coming over on the boat met at the Hotel Lotti for Miss Mullen and from there went to Carrol Kelly’s studio for our party.

Miss Mullen has for an assistant a Mlle. Floch. She speaks English very well, but all of the boys were told that she couldn’t in order that they would be compelled to speak French. It was wise. It was much fun listening to the boys try to be polite in French. She’s a very nice girl.

Carrol Kelly is really a wonder. He has a beautiful studio decorated mostly by himself. He draws for magazines and at present is engaged in illustrating two books.

We ate salad and sandwiches, coffee, strawberries and whipped cream. The strawberries are luscious now. Afterward we all sang American songs. Mr. Symons sang with Kelly at the picnic. He has a beautiful baritone voice. Kelly is very good at the piano. At 11 P.M. we disbanded and walked to the hotel. Kelly’s studio is in the Latin Quarter.

A man is hardly safe on the streets of Paris unescorted at night.

Friday, June 1:

With so many fellows I know over here it makes it hard to realize that we are in a place 3000 miles from home and in a foreign country. My French hasn’t progressed very far, but I find I know enough to get around Paris although I shouldn’t care to order a meal and get out gracefully on my own French.

I can’t begin to register here all of my first impressions of this beautiful place. We are seeing many sights. One of the best methods of transportation are the cabs. One can ride for hours on 50 or 75¢ or 1 franc 50 or 60 centimes.

The evidences of war in Paris are few. The city itself is beautiful and well-kept with many cabs and taxis all manipulated by men. The metros are operated by men with women conductors. The street cars are quite unanimously run by women. The streets are crowded--mostly by uniformed men--some wounded and some on leave. The women are vile. A man is hardly safe on the streets of Paris unescorted at night. Tuesday and Wednesday are meatless days in which fish is eaten.

This afternoon six of us were invited to a Mrs. Gibbs’ for tea. As we were being introduced around the circle I was introduced to a Miss Blaisdell which later proved to be the same who taught in Mankato Normal for 5 years and whom [Cousins] Carolyn & Alice told me to look up. The world seems pretty small on such occasions. I made an appointment with her for Monday P.M. at her home.