Sitting in my car sipping coffee from my big French bowl, unshaven and smeared with grease...

It's always interesting to compare what Grant kept to himself in his diary and what he shared in his letters. Naturally, due to military censorship, he couldn't divulge battle details, etc., but he also shielded his family from the really painful details of his work.On the same day that he wrote the account of Tod Gillett's brutal death in his diary, he sat down and wrote this chatty letter to his mother, Louise, never mentioning the loss that his outfit had suffered.

He does mention, however, the startling appearance at the front of an old friend from back home--Marguerite Marsh (1890-1925). A few years older than Grant, Marsh left her job at the Mankato Public Library to volunteer with the Red Cross in France. She was the inspiration behind Maud Hart Lovelace's novel Emily of Deep Valley. 

Convois Autos.,

S.S.U. 647,

Par B.C.M.,

France.

Monday – July 15, 1918

Dearest Mother:-

Wednesday last brought me the biggest surprise I have had since coming to France. I was sitting in my car sipping coffee from my big French bowl, unshaven and smeared with grease (having put in the day at cleaning and repairing my car after 48 hours on post) when a Dodge car drove up and out of the back seat hopped Marguerite Marsh. The surprise was so complete that I didn’t recognize her at first and when I finally did I was so dumbfounded that I couldn’t say two consecutive sentences. She didn’t recognize Hap at all and I had to casually mention his name before she could remember him. We didn’t have a chance to visit for she had to leave right away but I did find out where she is located and hope to see her again before long. She is just about 50 kilometers from here. Maybe I can get down that way on my permission.

It all came about this way: Johnnie Taylor and two other boys had gone into a pretty good sized town not far from here to spend the day at shopping. They were in a department store looking over some post cards when in walked Marguerite. She also wanted cards. They fell into a casual discussion in which Marguerite chanced to mention Minnesota. “Do you happen to know anyone from Mankato or St. Cloud?” asked Johnnie. “Mankato!” screamed Marguerite, “That’s my home.” “Do you know ‘Jess’ Willard or ‘Hap’ Ahlers?” was Johnnie’s next question.Marguerite allowed as how she did and grabbing Johnnie she thrust him into the car and ordered him to show them the way to “Hap” Ahlers and “Jess” Willard. And Johnnie filled the bill. I only wish she could have stayed longer with us. I guess she was about as glad to see us as we were here for we have since heard that when she tore madly forth from the Department Store she had in her hand a pile of post cards unpaid for. Honest Marguerite! The two boys who were left behind in the mad rush had quite a time with the girl behind the counter in figuring out how many cards the “questionable young mademoiselle” had “gotten away with.” Marguerite looks well. We didn’t have a chance to discuss her work and how she likes it. She looks very stunning in her uniform.

Yesterday was “la grande fête” day all over France. You remember last year at this time I wrote to you from the Vosges telling you about our celebration down there--how we were taken for American officers at a hospital down there and treated as such? Well there is no chance of their ever making that mistake again. Our uniforms give us away. But we celebrated just the same--that is, those of us who were fortunate enough to be back in camp yesterday did. We played the Frenchmen a tough game of soccer and managed to win by a score of 2-1. It was a hard game and many are the stiff joints in camp today but we had much fun out of it.

At 7:30 in the evening we listened to a very good concert at the Y.M.C.A. violin, voice and piano. It’s the first thing of its kind since Elsie Janis visited this sector some weeks ago and made such a decided “hit.” Our truck transported the piano for the occasion from a nearby town and on its return trip it stopped over night at our camp. We have a very good pianist in our outfit so you can imagine the rest. Dancing, Virginia-reel, square-dance and singing until long after dark. The result is that our Lieutenant is going to try to rent a piano for the section during the time that we are located here. A dance has also been proposed with real girls for partners. So you see war is not all hell. In addition to all of this we have our permissions still to look forward to. They ought to be starting soon with everything so quiet up here.

I am glad my name did not appear on any casualty list which met your eye so as to cause you undue worry until you knew the facts. The gas has left no noticeable effects on any of us.Am well and as happy as can be expected – hoping harder than ever for the termination of this mess so that we can get home.

Much love to all,

Grant.

P.S. – I don’t believe that Miss Mullen was a confirmed member of any particular religious denomination. Of course, while in France, being so highly in sympathy with French character and customs, she attended the Catholic church when any at all.

As to her being a socialist or not I can’t say. Perhaps if you can define what you mean by socialism I can answer your question. She was no pupil of Scheiderman or Leibknecht, I can assure you of that much. Neither was she an ardent advocate of Bolshevism. Of this I am just as sure. She was thoroughly in sympathy with everything for which the allies are fighting today though a bit inclined to criticize the U.S. for her tardiness in joining in the big fight. This she attributed to the evils in our present form of government overlooking the fact that the same evils exit wherever politics play as prominent a part in the government as in our own country. We have had many interesting talks on this subject and if this doesn’t answer your question I can go more into detail and quote from a few of the letters I have received from her. Even though she were a sort of socialist let us remember this about her: She was absolutely true from core out to the allied cause and threw every ounce of her energy into helping it along. Her numerous letters and interesting talks were an inspiration to the higher and better life to many a youth on this side. This part of her I shall never forget.

GRW

SSU 647 loses a man

It's been two months since we've seen a diary entry from Grant Willard--the last one was on May 19, 1918. Was it the war that kept him from recording his experiences? Not at all; he was simply out of paper! 

Grant wrote his diary on 5½ x 8½ inch, narrow-ruled notepaper. It is actually ledger paper—the right margin on both sides of each sheet being divided in red ink into two columns for bookkeeping purposes. When his supply ran low in May 1918 he asked his mother to send him more, which finally arrived at the front in July. He wrote in graceful legible cursive.

In this diary entry, Grant recounts in detail the horrific death of one of his comrades. Tod Gillett was a doomed man: on June 14, 1918, his ambulance was destroyed by a direct hit while it was parked at base; five days later Gillett was killed by another direct hit on a replacement vehicle.  

Monday, July 15, 1918:

Much has transpired since last writing in this book almost two months ago.

Our headquarters has shifted from Vignot to Lagney, a small town, near Ménil-la-Tour. We have excellent quarters here and are sufficiently exclusive to make life in the army worth living. There are few Americans in town and except for the many and numerous foolish calls sent in by the 26th Ambulance headquarters we are left pretty much to ourselves. But the 26th has gone now. They thought they were going to Château-Thierry and as near as we can find out from letter received from them that is where they are now. We made many friends among them and had it not been for some of the officers in our service we would have been glad to go with them. But we are left to break in a brand-new division (the 82nd) on this front. 7 new men have been sent us bringing our total up to 44 men. 15 new cars and 12 men from the 82nd have been attached to us temporarily for training--so we have a pretty good-sized camp now. Since this new division has come in with a division of French to train them the whole sector has become tranquil and peaceful as it should be and was until the 26th cut hell loose.

Gillett in his first destroyed ambulance.

June 14, 1918: the Boche staged another raid on Xivray[-et-Marvoisin] instead of Seichesprey and made things very uncomfortable for everybody back as far as Ansauville. They penetrated the town of Xivray, but were forced back by the 103rd boys who put up a good fight. The Boche retired with heavy losses to their former lines, but didn’t stop shelling Rambucourt, Beaumont, Mandres and Hamonville and even Ansauville until after the 26th had departed. On the morning of the 14th Beaumont and Rambucourt and the road between were particularly heavily shelled. In the yard at Beaumont we had four cars hit during the day, but as luck would have it no one was in or near them. Tod Gillett’s car suffered a direct hit knocking it out completely. The other three motors were left intact and were not irreparable. The whole section worked all day and all night of the 14th evacuating the wounded from Beaumont and Rambucourt. Rambucourt was in the 103’s territory and should have been covered by them, but the same old story -- they had cold feet so 647 did their work for them while they stood back and took the credit.

June 19, 1918: the Boche raided Jury Woods, but were driven out. We suffered again. The road between Beaumont and P.C. Condy ( a 1st aide station on the Flirey road) was under very heavy shell fire during this raid in an endeavor to silence the batteries which line the road. A call came in from P.C. Condy for a car while the shelling was very heavy. King at Beaumont (a very particular friend of ours) took the call and told them he wouldn’t send a car down until after the shelling had ceased. They said it was an emergency and they had to have a car immediately.

Ambulance in which Gillett was killed.

It was Tod’s turn out. He got there alright and loaded up with three slightly wounded. On the return trip the car was hit--Tod was killed and his aide escaped injury except for a general shake-up. Two of the patients were killed and the third escaped further injury. A runner brought the news in to Beaumont and Jack Swain (Tod’s best friend and college chum) together with Richardson (one of the boys in the Beaumont dressing station) crawled down to Tod through a very heavy barrage. They crawled down a ditch with the shells passing over their heads and breaking on the batteries and dugouts directly across the road. Then came a temporary lull in the shelling giving Jack and “Rich” enough time to get Tod out and the other two boys. Tod died immediately. The shell had lit under the right front wheel of the car sending a piece of éclat through the right side of Tod’s neck almost severing his head. “Dud” Mills, Tod’s aide, was on the side of the explosion, but escaped. C’est la guerre! Jack and Deveraux Dunlap were particularly hard hit by the accident, having known Tod for so long. They were immediately called off post and Luyx and I were sent up to replace them. Tod’s body was held for us as a special favor to us--thanks to Lieut. Comfort at Beaumont.

Gillett's grave in Arlington National Cemetery

June 20, 1918: I carried the body to Ménil-la-Tour where he was put into a zinc cask purchased by Jack and Dev. at Toul and the funeral ceremony took place that afternoon. The boys were pretty lifeless for several days as Tod was a great favorite with us all. Big, tall, mammoth hearted Florida boy that he was! King broke down completely because of his sending Tod out. We have had many nice notes from King since the 26th has gone. A French school mistress living next to us in Lagney was particularly nice to us during our hard times. She donated many flowers for Tod’s grave and has kept it freshly covered ever since the ceremony. She has looked after us all like a mother. I wish there was something we could do for her.

(N.B. On a trip to Ménil-la-Tour in 2010 I tried to find Gillett's grave in the churchyard. I didn't find one so I went so far as to ask the staff at the village hall if there were any record of an American having been buried there in 1918. There was none. As it turns out, Gillett's remains were removed to Arlington National Cemetery sometime after the war.)

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.