Moving Out from Sandricourt

Grant Willard's boredom with life at Sandricourt ended in February 1918. He and the rest of Section sanitaire américaine (S.S.U.) 647 moved first to a base outside Paris and then to another closer to the battle zone in Lorraine. While in Paris he managed to have two good visits with his friend, Emma Mullen. Unbeknownst to Grant, it would be the last time he would see her alive.

Wednesday, February 20, 1918:

Many things have happened since my last writing. Sandricourt had certainly worn out as far as we were concerned. However, it wouldn’t be fair to omit the one bright spot in our existence there. It was a little café about a mile from camp in the village of Courcelles. The place was run by a mother and her two daughters--Suzan and Henriette. Suzan was 19 years old and Henriette about 10. “Joe” Harris, an old #11 man, could speak very good French and used to patronize all the neighboring cafés in search of good food of which he was a very good judge. He’s a very happy-go-lucky sort of fellow in the neighborhood of 30 years--very popular with the fellows as well as the surrounding neighborhood. He had worked up a very fine reputation at “Suzan’s” place where he went often for her lobster. Fraser, Hap and I fell in with him and soon it developed into almost nightly parties at Suzan’s where we ate canned lobster with a mustard sauce, egg omelet, French fried potatoes, jelly and toast always winding up with “café noir.” The old lady always held the little private dining room for us and Suzan always waited on us. During the coffee the whole family would come in and we would have a jolly time. These evening parties, while knocking holes in our pocket books, will long be remembered.

[We] received orders late Tuesday night, January 29, to leave for Fort de Vanves the following morning to join the remainder of the section in setting up our cars. We were sent down on a truck and put to work guarding in Fort de Vanves. We did the guarding in 3 hour shifts beginning at 6:30 P.M. and ending at 6:30 A.M. This put us on every other night. When on guard we were given the morning off, otherwise we reported with the others for setting up cars. We worked hard and, on the whole, did our work well. The cars were all set up and ready to leave on Tuesday, February 5. Col. Jones inspected us on Thursday and on Friday we left for Neufchâteau at 8 A.M.

Fort de Vanves is an old fort on the outskirts of Paris, originally a stronghold just outside of the Porte d’Orléans with a moat and all, but is now an automobile park where cars are brought and made new. They also made and repaired stretchers. We weren’t supposed to go to Paris, but most of us kept enough of our Red Cross uniforms to protect us against M.P.’s and we went in when we felt so inclined. Some of the boys went in every night. I sneaked in twice--once the morning after the air raid--Thursday, January 31--and one evening--Monday, February 4. I saw no damage done by the air raid, but people with whom I spoke were very much worked up over it. About 23 bombs were dropped pretty well near the heart of the city. The casualties amounted to about 50 killed and 200 wounded. Miss Mullen had run out on the street looking for excitement during the whole raid. She’s a brick! I got a box of chocolates from Alice Farr and a book of poems from Dot on my first visit with Miss Mullen. My second visit brought me two packages of clothing from home and a cake from Beatrice Willard. Miss Mullen made coffee for the cake and she and Tish and I had a real visit.

From Ft. de Vanves we traveled an old and familiar road via Fère Champenoise, where we spent the first night and Ligny-en-Barrois where we spent the second (Sat. Feb. 9). We parked our cars in the same place as in July when Sect. 61 passed through on it’s way to Brabant-le-Roi and thence to Verdun. On Sunday about 4 P.M. we reached Neufchâteau after having passed over the same road as we did in July. It was very interesting. The trip up had been made in beautiful weather. Nothing green, but nice days for driving.

Neufchâteau is very different now from what it was when we last saw it. It is jammed with American troops who swarm the streets every evening and make things disagreeable indeed. It is no longer the quiet little French town with its more solemn civilians and soldiers, but a loud and boisterous place where English is heard on every side. The Americans haven’t gotten into the spirit of this thing yet, but one can hardly blame them. How could they--trouble free and care-free young ruffians who can’t understand what France has sacrificed in 3 years of this struggle for life. I am longing for the day when they may actually get a taste of what France has suffered and when some of these petty, snobbish young officers will find no room for them in a man’s army.

We are now stationed at Base Hospital #66 for wounded and sick men and horses. Some of the section has been sent on detached service to Gondricourt, but the majority of us are here doing very light work. We are with the American Army -- not the French as we had hoped. I think we have been sent up here to be sized up by American officials while in service. We all hope to make good so as to get out of here as soon as possible. We carry only sick--no wounded--to various hospitals in this section. Vittel, 30 km south of here is the most interesting trip. Vittel is the famous water center of France. All tourists used to visit the fine hotels in Vittel and bathe in this famous water. There is also a gambling casino here which rivaled that of Monte Carlo before the war. These hotels and casino have been turned over to the American Army and are now being used as hospitals.