We live in denims all the time

This is the last entry in Grant Willard's WWI diary. Just a few hours after he wrote these words, he and his unit boarded a ship for home.

Saturday, May 17, 1919:

Up at 5:30--breakfast at 6. At 7 o’clock we marched over to Camp #1 where we were again de-cootized. We were then taken over to barracks--92 men in one barracks with a permanent corporal in charge. Regulations are most strict. We live in denims all the time, are only allowed out of the barracks from 8-11 and 2-5 and then only for drill. No prospects of leaving.

The ship the 647 boarded was the U.S.S. Mallory. She left port early on the morning of May 18 and the men caught their last glimpse of France as the sun rose in the east.

I surely tore off some sleep.

Almost two years to the day that Grant Willard sailed to France, he and his comrades prepared to sail home.

Tuesday, May 16, 1919:

We left Le Douet this A.M. at about 9 o’clock. Hiked with packs into Nantes station and boarded an American freight train bound for St. Nazaire. Our American engineer got us out exactly on time--11:25. 

Well, we were a pretty happy gang. Reached St. Nazaire at 2 P.M. and hiked about six long kilometers to Camp #2. Passed many boats being loaded with troops. Reached camp by 5 P.M. very tired and hot. 5:30 we ate a fairly good mess after passing a medical examination before about a dozen doctors. I surely tore off some sleep.

Thursday, May 15, 1919:

Got orders today to leave for St. Nazaire tomorrow A.M. at 10 o’clock. Great day in camp. They say our boat sails on Monday. Guy Smith out to camp and said good-bye.

“Detained indefinitely. Well. Love.”

Guard duty and souvenir hunting...

Friday, May 9, 1919:

[The] 647 took the guard this P.M. at 4 o’clock for 24 hours. McCrackin is Sgt. I’m Corp. of the 2nd shift. Dev., Fratz, Kirk and Jim are my men. We went on at 6 this evening and continue on a schedule of 2 on and four off.

Cabled Dot yesterday: “Detained indefinitely. Well. Love.”

There is not much new dope. Lieut. Smith was ordered to Paris for reasons unknown. Left last night and expects to return tomorrow A.M.

A Sgt. under our transportation officer now teaching math in every school told Kirkpatrick and Johnnie that the 90th Div. was expected down here soon which will force us out. Whether it will force us on to the boat or not is still a question.

Went downtown yesterday with the idea of buying souvenirs for the family and Dot, but came back empty handed. There are many nice things over here for women as well as men and my head is chuck full of ideas, but all so impractical. Laces and silks are very beautiful and not too expensive, but there is no place to carry such things except in duffel bags where they would surely spoil under present treatment. I had some shell cases dressed and decorated while we were up in Verdun for Mother. I’ve bought a number of souvenir spoons for Sis and Dot. I would like to get them more if I could find something practical. Johnnie, Tib and Dad are problems. If they only smoked I could think of a million little handy souvenirs. Something may turn up yet.

We have given up hope of ever getting out of here.

As April gave way to May, 1919, Grant Willard and his comrades were still stuck in tiny Le Douet on the outskirts of Nantes with little idea of when they would sail home. Boredom and anxiety mixed with military regimen.

Adding to the boredom was the fact that they were confined to camp for the days surrounding May Day, or ​​International Workers' Day. It was probably his first exposure to the holiday as the year before he was very busy at the front. Even though International Workers' Day was founded to commemorate the laborers killed in the Haymarket Affair in Chicago in 1886, the holiday never caught on in the U.S. as it did around the world. Various labor organizations and the government promoted Labor Day in early September instead.

In this entry Grant also mentions the older sister of his good friend and fellow ambulance driver, Allen "Happy" Ahlers. "Hap" and Grant served together for the whole war. Following the Armistice, Harriet H. Alhers Houdlette (1891-1985) came to France as a volunteer with the American Red Cross. 

Saturday, May 3, 1919:

Still here in this little hole of Le Douet within striking distance of Nantes and yet too far off when one is “broke” as most of us are now. We have given up hope of ever getting out of here. A week ago today Lieut. Smith was told by the embarkation officer that we would leave yesterday. But nothing has come of any of these rumors and we have given up hope.

Lieut. Smith returned from Chaumont yesterday where he went in quest of these 17 Croix de Guerre that were promised us. He has made no formal statement yet, but Jack said last night that he was unsuccessful.

And so we hang on from day to day flitting from rumor to rumor, doing our daily drill and fatigue, not without complaint to be sure, but desperately and halfheartedly. Oh that I had only been demobilized over here when I had the chance.

For the past three days we have been held close to our barracks being prohibited from leaving the town because of French labor demonstrations. It seems that these three days are set aside for the French labor parties to celebrate in whatever way they see fit. They see fit in staying intoxicated most of the time and I guess the authorities are afraid of trouble if the Americans try to mix in.

It’s reported that we get paid Monday or Tuesday.

Allen Alhers (left) with Grant Willard in 1917.

Harriet Ahlers is in Paris, having just arrived in Red Cross work. Hap received a letter from her from Brest and sent a reply by Lieut. Smith which he delivered in person in Paris. She can’t come down here and Hap can’t go to Paris. Tough.

Shall not cable when we leave because I am broke flat and so is everybody else.

Homesick, broke and frustrated, Grant tells his troubles to his family in Mankato.

Nantes, France
April 22, 1919

Dearest Family:-

If I were only in a position to say this to you instead of writing it to you I would be the happiest boy in all the world.  But I’m not so why crab?

Willard home, Mankato, MN

We all hoped and believed that when we left Bretzenheim on the 26th of last month we would not have another opportunity of writing letters from this continent but the army has decreed otherwise.  We are here in Nantes awaiting shipping orders and have been since April 9th.  Everything looks blue and we are all feeling blue.  We are under stiff military rules and regulations with little time and no place to play.  It would not have been so bad if we had arrived down here expecting to be treated thusly but we weren’t prepared.  Like children we expected to be shipped immediately.  The let-down has been far from easy.  

On April 14th I sent the following cable to Dot: “Section held at port.  Home soon.  Forward folks.”  I was too near “broke” to send two cables and foolish enough to believe rumors of an early get-away.  In this way I account for and excuse the “home soon” and “forward folks”.  I hope the cable reached you.  Dot should have received it on April 15.

On the evening of April 14 I was keeping time at a basket ball game in the YMCA at Nantes when a large YMCA man came up and introduced himself as Guy Smith.  I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t know him and had his introductory speech not given me ground to stand on I should have been very much embarrassed because I felt that he was someone I should know very well.  We had quite a visit.  He seems to be doing a big work as athletic director in this district and likes his work but is very anxious to get home.  So say we all of us!  He wanted me to be sure to remember him to you with his very best regards.

Grant with Hap Ahlers (left)

Hap is well and crabbing with the rest of us.  He cabled his family the same day I did.

As to our departure there are no present reliable rumors.  I can only say that we all sincerely hope that we are on American soil before this letter reaches you.

Am well and kicking—thinking hard of the future.  Will be demobilized in the east somewhere if possible.  Hope to see some of the family there when we arrive but wouldn’t advise your leaving Mankato to see me yet awhile.

All kinds of love,

Your homesick son,
Grant.

P.S.:--Shall not cable when we leave because I am broke flat and so is everybody else.---GRW.

Easter! What an Easter!

Sunday, April 20, 1919, was Easter Sunday--the second that Grant Willard passed in France. He thoughts were undoubtedly of home and family that day though he didn't mention it in his diary. 

Saturday, April 19, 1919:

New clothing issued in preparation of another inspection tomorrow. Received two letter today--1 from Mother dated Apr. 2 and 1 from Zella dated April 3. Very surprised to get them. 647 was alone in the contingent in receiving mail.

Sunday, April 20:

Easter! What an Easter! Fratz, Hap and I went out to a ball game between the S.S.U. and S.O.S. We won easily by a score of 8-1. Draper pitched a good game for us assisted by Brown and Lt. Gunkle. Spent the rest of the day in cleaning and pressing clothes in preparation for coming inspection. 

Boredom, Boxing and Inspections

Wednesday, April 16, 1919:
    Nothing new except rumors. New dope says we will be inspected on Friday by inspector general from St. Nazaire. Two preliminary inspections tomorrow. Regular medical this A.M.

Thursday, April 17:
    Two pack inspections today preliminary to final tomorrow. More red tape than ever. Lieutenant Smith very encouraging in his remarks. Say things never looked better toward a getaway since our arrival. Went downtown tonight with Chalfant, Johnnie, Hap, Risley, Savage to see YMCA boxing matches. There were about 6 bouts--some were very good. One S.S.U. man (Edwards 506) was represented and fought a hospital man 3 tow-minute rounds to a draw. If Edwards had had the experience he would have knocked his opponent out in the 2 round.

Friday, April 18:
    The only thing good about this Good Friday is the sunshine. We stood inspection before a Major from St. Nazaire-inspector general. It went pretty well, but not good enough. Our drill and packs were alright, but our clothing he would not pass. We are to be issued new clothes and stand clothing inspection next Sunday or Monday. The Major said he had inspected some 30,000 troops in base ports recently and that our contingent of 402 men had by far the most decorations of any body of troops he had seen. “The men must have better looking uniforms to go with the decorations.”

We spent four hours in eating chocolate éclairs. The pastries in this town are marvelous.

Just five days after arriving in camp at Le Douet Grant and his comrades were beset by boredom and frustration. The fighting had ceased five months before and yet they had no certain information about when they would sail home. 

He cabled his fiance, Dorothy, that he was delayed, and it cost him the equivalent of nearly $36 in today's market. He was so broke that he couldn't afford a second telegram to his family in Minnesota, and asked Dot to "forward" the message.  In this age of Twitter and texting, it's difficult to fathom a mode of communication that was considered the texting of its day taking two days or more to reach its intended recipient.

At least the pastries were good... 

Monday, April 14, 1919:

No new dope. Dirk, Hap, Fratz and I went to Nantes this P.M. Sent Dot the following cablegram: "Section held at Port. Home soon. Forward folks." It cost me 17 frs. 40 c. My supply of cash is low so I couldn’t afford one to the family. Dot should receive the cablegram day after tomorrow. We spent the rest of our four hours in eating chocolate eclairs. The pastries in this town are marvelous.

Tuesday, April 15:

Absolutely nothing new. The weather is rotten. Cold, windy and rainy. The only good day we have had since our arrival here was Sunday afternoon. They say it rains 360 days out of the year down here. Some hole to put a bunch like this in and there to wait indefinitely. There are not even encouraging reports anymore. No chance to get athletics started--no fields and all water. Our quarters are cold and uncomfortable with no place to sit except on the floor. Cafe hours are 12-2 and 6-9. During these hours there is a mad rush for the warm places. The rest of the time we just loaf when not on detail. 

Lieutenant Smith is Camp Adjoint [assistant or substitute]. He is doing everything he can for the good of the contingent, but he has as his superior officer a West Point Colonel who is quite obstinate and the other officer of this contingent are very inefficient. I sure feel sorry for the Lieut.

At the YMCA last night watching a basketball game between the Fatimas and Camels when a large YMCA man came up and asked my name. 

“Willard from Mankato?” he asked. 

“The same,” I replied. 

Whereupon he fell on my neck and told the assembled multitude many things about myself which I had never heard before. His name is Guy Smith. I know who he is now, but he had me guessing for awhile. Was glad to see him and hope we meet again.

Inspected by General Pershing today... a great disappointment.

Now every day closer to home, Section 647 made its way by rail from quarantine camp at Ferrières-en-Gâtinais more than 200 miles to the west to a village outside Nantes called Le Douet. Here they would sit and wait... and wait.

While in Le Douet the 647 was inspected by none other than the commander of the American Expeditionary Forces--General John J. "Black Jack" Pershing. Grant was not impressed.  

Tuesday, April 8, 1919:

We left Base Camp this P.M. at 2 o’clock. Lieut. Smith is contingent commander so we see little of him. Jack Swain is our highest officer and makes a good one.

Wednesday, April 9:

Spent a tough night in our box-car, but what’s the difference--we’re going home! Arrived in Nantes, after a beautiful trip during the daylight about 5 P.M. We were marched about 5 km out into the country and billeted in a small town called Le Douet. Very, very tired and footsore.


Thursday, April 10:

Rotten weather and spirits very low. Have just been talking with a boy in a hospital unit who had been here for 5 weeks and didn’t know when they were going to sail.


Friday, April 11:

Still in Le Douet doing dirty details.


Saturday, April 12:

La même chose!


Sunday, April 13:

John J. Pershing (1860-1948)

Inspected by General Pershing today. Made us a very poor speech. He was a great disappointment. “American arms are the greatest in the world. The American Nation is the greatest nation in the world. The allied morale was about to break when America came into the war. America won the war.” These are a few thing he told us. If John [Pershing] expects to be elected President of the U.S. he’ll never do it on such a speech and I hope he doesn’t at all.

Note to reader: There was a movement to draft Pershing for GOP presidential nomination in 1920. At the time he said he wouldn't actively campaign but also wouldn't refuse to serve. Of course, the nomination (and presidency) went to Warren Harding instead.

Got de-cootized today which was a big farce.

SSU 647 passed out of existence in April 1919. As the ambulance men turned in their well-worn Fords at base camp in the ancient town of Ferrières-en-Gâtinais, the SSU was dropped from the group's name and became simply Section 647 awaiting demobilization.

Tuesday, April 1, 1919:

Sent my trunk home via Am. Express costing me 104,50 francs, closed out my account with Morgan Harjes and beat it for St. Cloud.

At 1:30 we drove to Ferrières Base Camp--our last drive in our old Fords. 644, 649, 598 and we were on the road at the same time--a good race. We all pulled into Base Camp about the same time, left our cars and were given poor barracks.

Wednesday, April 2:

Busy, busy times! Reports are going in and everything is being checked up. Tomorrow we go into quarantine. Everything is being rushed and looks most encouraging toward an early getaway. The old Base Camp life over again--details, details, details--all absolutely ridiculous.

Ferrières Quarantine Camp

Sgt.-Major Prince told me last night that we will leave for Brest next Saturday or Sunday and will board a boat in not longer than 48 hours layover. I told him I’d buy him a great feed when we all got back if his report is true.  

Thursday, April 3:

Got de-cootized today which was a big farce. It consisted of standing under lukewarm water for two minutes on a cold day in a cold bath house. Then in our underwear we ran a quarter of a mile to another building there to stand around shivering until our clothes were returned from a steaming machine. They were damp when we got them and I shivered for an hour before mine came at all. Then we moved into quarantine quarters and were not allowed out except, of course, for details. Men on detail could be sent anywhere.

Friday, April 4:

647 stood guard last night again. There are 11 sections here in quarantine and go to make up our contingent. There is much paper work to be done before we are ready to go. All accounts must be straightened up, service records checked up and transportation papers made out. Boddie, Soles, and the Lieutenant are very, very busy in the office. About eight Parc A boys are now in our section together with Sgt. Chalfont and Sgt. Sullivan bringing our enrollment up to 40. Astlett, Gaynor, McEnness, Putnam have left the section to be demobilized over here. Titchner has left for a permission in England to be sent home later as a casual.

Saturday, April 5:

The dope is that we leave tomorrow for St. Nazaire instead of Brest. We are being issued out complete traveling equipment today. I will tomorrow carry the first military pack of my life. 

Sunday, April 6:

Orders countermanded! We leave tomorrow.

Monday, April 7:

Orders are again countermanded! We leave tomorrow!???x x x x x

My stuff was so moth eaten that I had to give all my clothes away, keeping only souvenirs.

By March 1919 Grant Willard had been away from home for nearly two years. It was the longest stretch of time that he had ever been, indeed would ever be, separated from loved ones in his life. As you will notice from this series of letters and diary entries, he was excited and anxious to return home and get on with life.


Bretzenhem, Germany,
March 15, 1919.

Dear Dad:-

[General Order] 40 has just arrived.  It’s an order regarding demobilization on foreign soil of officers and men who enlisted in the American Army on foreign soil.  We will be demobilized over here unless we file an application to be transported to America and demobilized through regular military channels there.  By filing such an application we waive all claims on transportation or transportation money to the place of enlistment.  Demobilization through regular military channels means that we will be shipped to the military camp nearest our home.  I would go to Ft. Snelling for my discharge papers, as I read the order.

Now then, should I decide to receive my discharge on this side: After reaching Base Camp with the section this month or the first of next I would be sent to a small place near Tours called St. Agnant, there to remain probably a week before the papers were ready.  Then with $60 which is paid to every soldier as he is discharged I would be turned loose—a free man once again.  Where would I go and what would I do?  Probably the first thing I would do is wire for money.  That’s where you come in and, as you will see before I finish this letter, yours would be no small part.  Next would come the battle of Paris—packing and repacking my trunk, looking over my civilian clothes and trying to get into them.  I have no idea they’ll fit and even if they do they are pretty badly moth eaten.  My old Norton-Harjes uniform is so badly eaten that it is impossible.  I wouldn’t wear an army uniform so 9 to 1 I would have to buy a suit of civilians.  Prices in Paris are worse now than they have ever been.  70 francs a day is as fair an estimate as I can make under present conditions.  Then would come the tussle for passage home.  Everything leaving French ports is now reserved until the middle of May.  Everything leaving England is even worse.  By the time we get in it would be impossible to make a booking before the latter part of June.  In the meantime I would hike for England where living conditions are much more reasonable.  If I had the money I should like to spend a month in England but it would take more than I care to ask for unless I ran on to some very kind friends.  Under this plan I should be fortunate to arrive in America by the latter part of July.


The other plan: Stick with the section.  Get 24 hours in Paris when we turn our cars in.  Send my trunk home either by American Express Co. @ 75 francs per 100 lbs. with $1000 insurance or let the Govt. send it home for nothing with no insurance.  Board a transport probably sometime around the middle of April and arrive the latter part of April or the first part of May (I hope.)  Then I understand we go to Camp Dix, New Jersey.  If all right with you I will endeavor to get my discharge at Camp Dix instead of Ft. Snelling and spend awhile with Dot before coming west.  This plan will only require enough money to keep me going in the east and pay my expenses to Minnesota.  To get mustered out over here I figure would cost $500 if I were to see England at all which would be the strongest argument in favor of staying.  To be taken back by the army wouldn’t cost me more than a fifth of $500, I shouldn’t think.

Needless to say I have decided to follow out the latter course.

I would like to see England but it isn’t worth the money now.  Conditions are bad over here now.  There are hundreds of people waiting for transportation.  The American Army has control of the majority of boats between here and America so much so that the Canadians are pretty peeved.  In the meantime Paris and French base ports as well as London and Liverpool are swarming with people of all descriptions waiting to get out.  Prices in France have soared sky-high.  England has managed to regulate prices in such a way that living isn’t so terribly expensive over there.  But transportation being so uncertain makes definite plans and budgets impossible.

Am enclosing a picture of the section taken beside our barracks in Mainz.  In the background can be seen a few of the German cannon turned in to the French according to the Armistice terms.  That is—the terms as the Germans tried to read them—but the majority of the stuff turned in was junked because of its antiquity and modern guns required.

The mark is worth 50 centimes up here now.

Love,
  Grant.

P.S. Don’t try to send me any money.  I’ll wire for some if I need it—when I’m safe in the States.
GRW.

* * * *

Bretzenheim, Germany.
March 24, 1919

Dear Mother:-

Have just come back from Coblenz and am very tired but must write you now because I may not get another chance for some time.  Since Sgt. Snader left for Poland in Relief work I have taken on his job as mess sgt and my trip to Coblenz today was for the purpose of buying supplies for our trip into Paris.  When I left here with Johnny Taylor in his car this morning it was with order to buy enough food for a 10 day trip into Paris on flat cars.  The French objected to a convoy because of the price of gasoline so they planned on making up a freight train for three sections (644, 649 and 647) and sending us in on a freight special.  Needless to say, we were disappointed because we have been looking forward to a convoy along the old battle front for a long time.

When we returned this evening, with not nearly so much food as I should have liked, it was to find that the transportation order had been changed because of a shortage of freight cars and that we are to convoy to Paris, leaving as soon as is convenient after the 25th. Well now!  We aren’t going to waste much time in convenience.  If we can clean up what more there is to do around here in one more day I think that day after tomorrow, Wednesday, March 26, will find us on the road at a très bonne heure.  Our route will take us right down the old line and give us a good chance to see some interesting country.  However, poor roads may necessitate changes in route.  The weather has been quite disagreeable of late so that soft roads are going to be not only slow but dangerous.

Haven’t heard from you all for sometime, accountable is the fact that our mail is probably being held in Paris for us.  Am not worried—very happy at the present prospects of getting out of here and starting our long trip home.

Heaps of love,
Son.

* * * *

Wednesday, March 26:

Left Bretzenheim this A.M. about 7 o’clock en convoy for Paris. A beautiful day but cold. We came by way of Kaierslautern reaching St. Avold about 5 P.M. for the first night. ‘Twas a good jump--about 215 km. Every car present except the Packard & kitchen which pulled in about dusk.

Thursday, March 27:

Made a 7 o’clock start for St. Menehould via Metz & Verdun. We passed through Metz about 10:30 stopping at the Parc for food supplies. By noon we were in Verdun coming in by way of Belfort. The roads were terrible coming across no-man’s-land, but it was well worth the risk of broken springs. The weather was cold and raining. Before entering the city we came right down past our old hospital at Beauveaux over the same roads we traveled a year ago last August when excitement was keen. We laid over in Verdun 3 hours during which time Astlett, Hap, Fratz, Johnnie & myself jumped in Eric’s car and made the Citern, Lasource and Carrière Sud. The most interesting trip I ever took. The devastation is greater than any of us have seen before or since--beyond imagination. Our posts looked very much the same. Many nurses & Am. officers are sight seeing up there now.

647 in Verdun, March 1919

After running through snow, rain and wind all afternoon we reached St. Menehould about 5 P.M. and spent the night there. We are all soaked to the skin, but happy because we are on our way home.

Friday, March 28:

Made a late start (9 A.M.) for Rheims [Reims]. Weather rotten! Passed down through pernay and along the Rheims front. Roads bad and once we had to turn around in no-man’s-land because the road had not yet been repaired. We reached Rheims about 4:30 P.M. every car present and running fine. Went to bed early.

Near Reims, France

Saturday, March 29:

Spent the day in Rheims seeing the city and working on my car. Weather still rotten! Rheims is a wreak and I don’t see how in the world it is ever going to be repaired though some civilians who have returned are very hopeful, others are very pessimistic. The Cathedral is already being repaired. Of the 20,000 houses in Rheims 13,000 are total wrecks and 2,000 more are called "irreparable." I didn’t see a single building which had not been hit at least once. The most of this had not been done since 1917. The amount of destruction around the Cathedral shows very clearly that the Boche intended that this edifice should be totally wrecked. Not one shell of the many which hit the Cathedral exploded within its walls. Only one entered the building without passing through it and this one was a “dud.”

Reims Cathedral (2010)

Sunday, March 30:

Made a 7 o’clock start this A.M. for Meaux via Chateau-Thierry. A rather interesting day, but not to be compared with the others. Reached Meaux about 3:30 and Woodie & I arranged a section feed for the boys downtown. We had a good feed and good time. 

Monday, March 31:

Pulled into Paris this A.M. about 11 o’clock and parked our cars at St. Cloud. We are given until 11:30 tomorrow A.M. in Paris to arrange personal matters. Hap, Fratz and I went in reserved a room at the [Hotel] États Unis and got busy on baggage. My stuff at the [Hotel] Mt. Thabor was so moth eaten that I had to give all my clothes away, keeping only souvenirs. We ate this evening at Viares. In the evening we went to the casino.

Have really grown quite attached to the old boiler and would like to bring it home with me.

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

Bretzenheim, Germany
March 12, 1919

Dearest Mother:-

Thirteen more days and we expect to leave these parts for Paris.  We are taking advantage of these beautiful days by working on our cars and getting them in as perfect shape as possible for our return trip.  My car never ran better since leaving Ft. de Vanves a year ago last month that it is running right now.  It seems to have taken new life with the rest of us at the prospects of being “mustered out.”  Have really grown quite attached to the old boiler and would like to bring it home with me.  There is not a bolt or a part on the car that I have not tampered with.  I wonder what is going to become of all the ambulances and trucks which are daily being turned in?  Most of them are in no shape to be taken back to the States.

John H. Willard between the wars.

Your last letter to me enclosed a picture of yourself, Sis and Johnny.  I would have recognized you and Marion hasn’t changed much as I remember her but John I shouldn’t have known if I had met him on the streets of Mankato.  I’ve never seen a bigger change in anybody.  Maybe it was the uniform which made such a great difference.  You know I never did have a chance to get very well acquainted with John in long trousers.  In my mind’s eye I always see him in short pants and not very large.  This last picture makes him look like someone I never saw.  If he meets me at the train when I get home he’d better wear his name in large letters in some very conspicuous place or I certainly shall pass him up. – Mother, you actually look younger than when I last saw you.  How do you do it?  Is Dad growing correspondingly young?  Sis isn’t quite as plump as I remember her.  I like her better the other way.  Quite a display of hardware she’s wearing.  Did Bill send her those from this side?

Johnny Taylor and Eric Astlett have just returned from a seven day permission in England.  They had a wonderful time.  Both have relatives and many friends there which added considerably to their good times.  They say it was just like leaving home when they had to start back.  Food conditions there are good, they say, compared with what it is in Germany and even France.  Butter, for instance, is hard to get but the boys say that the margarine is every bit as good.  Their report of England and English people made me sorry than ever that these new permission regulations were not in vogue when Fraser and I went on our permissions.  We will not have another chance to get over there now.

-SECTION NEWS-

The gang is sitting outside the window enjoying the warm sun and fresh air.  They are going over them many old things which have taken place since we were made a section.  Just now they are ragging one another about certain incidents on the baseball diamond.  Jack Swain from Dallas, Texas is retelling in his very funny way of how Fraser over-ran second-base, in a game we played in Nancy, and slid for a rock somewhere out in left field, thinking it was the base.

Cook Tom, the friend of all homeless cats, has found a new pet and pal.  It’s a little, sick, mangy, yellow cat.  Tom calls him Sam McGee because he’s always cold and is continually hanging the stove.  At night he sleeps in the oven or fire-box.  There were a few live coals in the fire-box when Sam jumped in the other night and he had to sacrifice a good share of his hair to keep warm.  But Sam gladly made the sacrifice.  This morning Sam was in the oven when Tom built the fire.  Not seeing him there Tom partly closed the oven door and wen after the coffee water.  When he returned he saw two paws sticking up through the crack in the door in “Kamarad” fashion.  When Tom opened the door Sam showed more life than he has for the week he has been with us.

Old Roland with ambulance men

Am enclosing a few photographs of a few of our past mascots.  Old Roland was the most fun.  You couldn’t help but laugh every time you looked at him even when he was sober which only during working hours on week days when he worked off all the effects of his wine.  Roland is the Chief of Police and the Chief of the Fire Department of Lagny, France.  He’s a good all round man.  During the day he hires out on some ditch or garden job and during the evening he consumes wine.

In the picture of Apremont if you look closely you may see your little “tin soldier” in the act of carrying a bucket of water to his car which has a white towel hanging over the radiator.  This particular piece of ground and up on the hill in the background were scenes of some very severe fighting.

Love,
  Grant.

I have endeavored to fill my days without the use of cheap fiction stimuli.

In this letter to his father and some diary entries written at the same time, Grant discusses more details of the army's plans to send them home. And he makes reference to stress caused him by his fiance's troubling mental attitude. 

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

Bretzenheim, Germany
March 1, 1919

Dear Dad:-

Your letter of Feb. 10 caught me last night prone on my bed reading The Fighting Chance by Rob’t. W. Chambers.  I had reached the point in the story where the hero had about won the battle and all he needed was the girl to cinch the deal.  I postponed the cinching part until after I had read your letter.  The lack of good reading material out here is distressing.  Occasionally the K.C. gives us a new batch of Top Notch, All Story, Strand, etc., but these are not very satisfactory.  I have endeavored to fill my days without the use of cheap fiction stimuli.  Have succeeded pretty well through the medium of letter writing, filling in spare moments with a huge volume of the History of Europe since 1812.  The weather is clearing up and the ground is about dry so we are growing more and more into the outdoor life (other than driving, I mean) – hunting (rabbits primarily), baseball, football, soccer – most anything.  For indoor sports these last few months we’ve had a great deal of fun on bowling alleys in Mayence, English and straight billiard tables; scheduled tournaments among ourselves, challenges of one man to another then the selecting of teams – all has helped tremendously in maintaining a quite marvelous esprit de corps with the section.  While other units have been having considerable trouble within their own organization in maintaining that spirit of good fellowship so essential to a life such as this, we have grown closer together if anything.  I’m pretty sure we could go through another war without the slightest friction within the unit if we had to.

Grant's dad, W.D. Willard

But all of this has nothing to do with our getting back to the States.  The next is a little more promising these days, Dad.  Lieut. Kendrick came rushing into camp the other day and said that orders were now in our “auto parc” for his section (649) and ours to leave these parts in convoy for base camp on the 26th of this month.  We are also scheduled for base camp in the last official reports printed in the Radiator.  This should mean the States by the latter part of April.  What will happen over there you probably know better than we.  What are they doing with the U.S.A.A.S. men as they reach the States?

That makes me think: in my last letter to Sis I urged your coming east about the time I was due to arrive but the more I think it over the useless the idea seems.  We may be sent to a camp in Alabama, for instance.  Who knows?  There will undoubtedly be some period of waiting before we are mustered out.  We may be given a furlough during this period and we may not.  If agreeable to you and if possible I should like to spend three or four weeks in the east with Dot before I come west.  But these are things which will have to be settled after I arrive in America.  Here’s hoping that April will see us there!

Another thing, Dad – don’t tack Sergeant on to my name.  I’ll tell you the story in brief: Last November we ran short of sergeants – one having been made a private by request, one made a lieutenant and sent to another section and one called in to go to school.  None were expected back.  Swain, Snader and I were called into conference with the lieutenant and told that if we did not take the jobs vacated that he would have to handle it through headquarters which would mean their sending out three new sergeants from base camp because of overabundance of such at camp.  Obviously this was not desired.  Besides we had had an experience with one such a short time before.  So we took the jobs as unwarranted sergeants appointed by our lieutenant.  I handled details and assignments.  Swain handled the cars and shop.  Snader was the mess sergeant merely continuing with the work he had previously been doing as a private.  Everything sailed smoothly until Christmas time when our old warranted sergeant, who had been sent in to school and who was not expected back, suddenly put in an appearance.  My department had formerly been his.  He was warranted, I was not but I was determined to continue with the work until asked to discontinue by the lieutenant, who appointed me.  Then came a trip to Speyer which kept me away from camp for a day and a half.  When I returned I found that I had been relieved of my duties.  Details were posted on the bulletin board signed by the warranted member.  Thinking that it was official and that I would be notified as soon as I saw the lieutenant I automatically retired.  Nothing was said to me by the lieutenant so I went to him and asked to be officially relieved, that four sergeants were too many and that the warranted member I couldn’t get along because of differences in methods.  He told me that I had made a mistake in letting him take my work away from me, that it was not official and against his wishes but that as long as I didn’t want to continue he would let things slide for awhile but would not officially relieve me.  And so it has been ever since.  I am officially still a sergeant but have no duties.  It’s very embarrassing to me as well as to the warranted member.  I am not put on details as I wish to be.  Have been to the Lieut. twice more and each time he has said “wait.”  Why, I don’t know.  I don’t want the job and never did.  It means nothing in this outfit except someone to look after a few odds and ends and trash.  No discipline is necessary in this outfit and has never been used.  So you see that while technically I am still sergeant I am no longer known as “serg” among the fellows. Just “Jess.”

Am enclosing a clipping which appeared in the Stars & Stripes not long ago regarding the organization of S.S.U.  Please save it somewhere because I may need it for reference.

German money continues to decrease in value.  We now get two marks for every franc.  Formally it was 1.42, the 1.62, now 2.  Is Germany going all to pieces? 

Lovingly,
Grant.


Sunday, March 2:

A beautiful day! Fraser, Stender and I took a long walk out over the fields. We saw many rabbits. My what whoppers! We wasted all our ammunition because they are almost impossible to hit with a gat. Once in awhile they will sit up and give you a shot at them. With a rifle it is quite possible to get them. The boys are very successful with the shotguns.

Went down to bowl this evening, but found the alleys already occupied so we played billiards – Fraser, Soles, Woodie and I.


Monday, March 3:

Rainy and miserable. Stayed in most of the day reading and writing. Played billiards in the evening with Woodell, Fraser and Soles.



Tuesday, March 4:

The same as yesterday – cold wet. Titchner and I lost to Burt and McCrackin in bridge and in the afternoon Tich and I went to the Kurfürst for billiards.



Wednesday, March 5:

The Distinguished Service Cross men came back today and the camp listened to their experiences all day. The purpose of their being called in was a picture of each man which took about 5 minutes. It is further affirmed that we are going into Base Camp about the 25th or 26th of this month. There, it is reported, we lead an easy life, but that the food is none too good. We are quarantined for a week just before sailing and very likely will be in camp about 2 weeks, depending upon transportation facilities. If the weather is decent there will be plenty of time for sports.


Thursday, March 6:

Luykx and Hap left today for 3 days in Paris. Am on call today – none came in. Played bridge in the evening and Tich and I again lost to Burt and McCrackin. Much mail came in. Got 1 from Dot, 1 from Mother enclosing photographs of herself, Sis and Johnnie, 1 from Mr. Well and News Letter from the Plymouth Congregational.

Dorothy Houghton Willard (1894-1979)

Dot worries me considerably. Slept very little tonight because I couldn’t get over the tone of her letter. She seems to be losing hold on things. She’s brooding over what cannot be altered.