How I long for the States today!

Section Sixty-One's idleness in beautiful Rupt-sur-Moselle had begun to irritate Grant Willard when he wrote this letter to his family back in Mankato. Little did he know that in a few short weeks he and his comrades would be up to their knees in wounded and dying men. 

The Beatrice mentioned in this letter was Grant's aunt. Beatrice E. Morrison (1882-1946) married Robert Sibley Willard in New York in 1906, and they settled in Mankato. In the years after the war, she became a friend to my grandmother, who like her, was a big city easterner who found herself married in small town Middle West.

July 26, 1917

Dear Family:-

Marion’s very nice letter written from Minneapolis came yesterday and Mother’s dated June 30 came today. Both were very newsy letters and welcome. You may be sure. It was the first mail which has come into camp for almost two weeks. There must be more somewhere. The Saturday Evening Post which Beatrice sent arrived yesterday and while I haven’t had time to read it, has been very much in demand around the camp. I don’t understand why our mail doesn’t come through faster. Perhaps it will when you start sending my mail to the new address which I shall give you later. None of the letters I have received have been censored and I have received the five you had written up to the one received today. Papers can be sent because many of the boys are getting them regularly. They come through as fast as the mail does. Why you hadn’t received more letters from me up to June 30th is more than I can understand. I have been writing to some one of you once every week and some times oftener. There should be a letter from me on every French liner to the States but there is much uncertainty and irregularity about everything over here now so I presume it is only natural that mail should be held up.

Perhaps you will not understand me now (and I can hardly explain it to you) but I am quite disappointed over the way things have been going on this side and wish I had stayed in the dear old U.S. and attempted to do my small part there. My mind, however, may be completely changed by tomorrow. This may not pass the censors here without considerable forethought and sacrifice. I was far from being in that stage of life where I could afford to give up everything for 6 months and coming to a new country without getting something more than a mere vacation in return. Yet, I regret to say, such has been the case. At Sandricourt we had the only real training we have had so far and I was cheated out of that by a sprained ankle which kept me in bed all but three days of our stay there. Since we arrive here we have had nothing to do but kill time. True we saw a very beautiful section of France in our drive over here and had some few experiences but nothing in the nature of those for which we came to this country. We are fully and splendidly equipped and very anxious to be called where we can be of most service and yet we sit. We have been sitting since July 2nd in this very spot not daring to leave our headquarters for any length of time for fear orders for movement would arrive during our absence. The survey is beautiful here in the mountains. Cherries, blueberries and raspberries are plentiful and many spare moments are spent in picking and eating the same. Chances for learning French are fair but very discouraging to one who doesn’t even have a working foundation and no vocabulary.

If I were a physical wreck and the doctor had insisted upon a 6 mos. vacation with absolutely no excitement I should be perfectly contented right here in France just as I am BUT I’m not over here on a vacation. I want to be busy doing what I can to aid a cause in which I believe thoroughly and unless things change pretty soon I am going to be darn sorry I ever decided on this move. Think of all I could have been doing in the States all this time. Outside of bearing a few guns occasionally and see a few air battles we wouldn’t know there was a war. We get practically no news except that which is three weeks old and know nothing of what is going on around us. I dare say you know more about the vital points of this war than we do, who are right here near the front.

Well, this mood has gradually come on me until it has reached the boiling point. I suppose it will terminate in our seeing doubly severe service as a result of our rather extended repos. Let it come, we are ready.

How I long for the States today! I simply must quit.

Much love, Grant.

New Address:
G.R. Willard
Section Américaine S.S.U. 61,
Bureau Central Militaire,
Paris, France.

Grant experiences a Bastille Day he'd never forget.

On July 2, 1917, Norton-Harjes Section 61 wound its way from Dijon to the town of Rupt in the Vosges Mountains. And there they remained encamped in a beautiful setting until the end of July. There was plenty of time to hike, swim, read and relax in this valley far from the horrors of the battlefield. On the 16th Grant wrote home to tell of an adventure while walking to and from Remiremont.

Monday – July 16, 1917

Dear Family:-

Tempus fugit!

It doesn’t seem very long ago since I wrote but I must take a few minutes to thank you for the gum and cigarettes. They were much appreciated. You couldn’t have selected anything more welcome at this particular time. American tobacco is a luxury and the supply, consisting of 2 lbs. of smoking tobacco, which I brought with me is just about depleted. Gum cannot be bought at all in this country. If the opportunity again presents itself instead of sending cigarettes I would prefer a pound can of Prince Albert pipe tobacco. A pipe full of American tobacco brings more satisfaction out here under these conditions than a good hot bath with clean clothes, both of which are luxuries. I couldn’t imagine myself admitting such a thing a couple of months ago to say nothing about actually feeling it but conditions now are quite different.

We are still in the same place as when last I wrote but that doesn’t tell you much. It is reported that orders for movement will come in a couple of days. We will not be sorry to move.

Saturday, July 14, is a big day in France, as you undoubtedly know. With the French in this district it seems to be a day when everyone gets drunk. I am pleased to state that not a single man in our section was under the influence of the stuff. In view of the fact that perhaps your knowledge of French history is as slight as mine, though I can hardly believe such could be the case, I will tell you what I know of July 14. In 1789 Louis XVI was King of France. It seems he was a devil and very unpopular. On July 14, 1789 the people rose up in their wrath, overthrew the government and tore down the Bastille where many were imprisoned and made to suffer unjustly. Then I think came a government run by a body of five men which was overthrown in ‘92 or ‘93 and another republic established. Anyway July 14th is the date of the fall of the Bastille and everybody is supposed to get drunk.

We had the day off (war was called off for the day) and six of us went down to a town about 7 miles from here, walking all the way, and had a good meal. It was a peach and only cost us about 4ƒ apiece or 80¢ in Am. money. On our way back we were invited in to a barrack and hospital just out of town. It was a large place and we later learned that it is one of the best in France. Thinking us to be American officers we were introduced to French majors, captains and lieuts. They were having a band concert in the park within and when we put in our appearance we were given a salute by the buglers and a French Lieut. (1st) stepped up and conversed with us in English. Privates stood at attention, as we passed, Lieutenants saluted. Gee! We felt queer. Then we were invited inside and were ushered into the theater where a performance was about to take place. We sat in leather arm chairs in the front row reserved exclusively for officers. Each chair had a place card in it bearing some officer’s name. I sat in Major somebody’s chair. In front of us was a row of wounded on their stretchers. Behind us were hordes of pretty nurses and then came the non-coms and privates. The show was good for an amateur get-up and several changes were made for our benefit. After it was all over we shook hands with officers and were saluted all over again and told to tell our “brother officers” that they were welcome anytime. It was a great experience and we laughed much over it all the way home. The officers over here ride in their own cars. If some of them could have seen us hoofing it for headquarters afterward they would never be nice to us again. Such is life in the army. Sherman was quite right.

Must mail this before it is too late. Several of us are going for a swim soon.

Much love,  

Grant