Got a dandy letter from Dad and a peach from Dot.

Dorothy Houghton, Grant's future wife, grew up in shabby-genteel surroundings in Ambler, Pennsylvania. While Grant was serving in France, Dorothy traveled to Minnesota to spend a holiday with her future in-laws. A motor trip of the state ensued.

Friday, August 31, 1917:

Feeling fine today. Cold is much better and am very much rested. The weather has been too poor for avions so we have slept in peace. Loafed most of the day. Played horse-shoe, bridge and cleaned up my duffle-bags. Got a dandy letter from Dad and a peach from Dot. Dad likes Dot, Mother wept when she left Mankato, Johnny has almost taken her away from me, Sis has always stuck up for her and Harold has expressed no opinion whatever. Why shouldn’t I be the happiest mortal on earth. I believe I could be if this damnable war hadn’t smashed all my plans. And even now I’m as helpless about the future as I every was. Dad made the statement that my letters to Dot were so “matter of fact” that he hardly believed that I could have passed through the violent love affair that he and Mother had. Ha Ha! How little he knows about this affair. Conditions have been so entirely different in this particular case that I’m afraid no one will ever understand why it was necessary for me to take the course I have taken. If they can’t see it I’m sure they will never know because it can’t be explained. Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m as sure of myself now as ever though I yearn to get back to America now as I feel it is high time for further development.

Mr. Norton brought Major Murphy of the American Red Cross service out to talk to us tonight. He didn’t make much of a hit with the fellows. In brief his speech was very general and vague in every detail. He didn’t know how long it would be before we would be taken over, but that we would continue to work for the French Government temporarily and he urged that those of us who could would sign up for the remainder of the war. The nature of the changes to be made by the American Government when the work was taken over he was unable to say anything. He didn’t even know how long it would be before the new system would be working. He told us nothing we didn’t already know. A recruiting officer will be around in a day or two to check up on the men who want to leave. Section 61 is about to pass out of existence--of that I feel certain. Every man wants to get out of this place as fast as he can.

Miss Mullen sent Sharp and I each a cake today which we ate together with the rest of tent #2 tonight.

The air is sickening with the stench of dead...

Wednesday, August 29, 1917:

Went on front duty this A.M. at 7 o’clock. Am now at La Source waiting for blessés (1 P.M.). The brancardiers have a fine time with Johnny out here. They call him “Baby” and ask him about his wife and children back in New York. They call me the “Black man” (because of my beard, I guess). Eddie Berry they call the “whiskey man” and Townsend of Sec. I the “rum man.” They like to have us out here and do all they can to make us comfortable. They feed us well and treat us well. The Boche, however, do all they can to make things uncomfortable. They started shelling the place about 5 P.M. today and kept it up until well into the morning, except for about two hours from 8 to 10 P.M. These two hours they were too busy keeping under shelter from the French barrage fire which was terrific while it lasted. I asked the corporal if it would be possible for us to mount the hill back of the poste and watch the fire. He gladly put on his helmet and led the way. It was truly a wonderful sight. The moon was shining brightly, almost full. We could see Ft. Vaux which is nothing more than a slight mound of earth, about 200 yards from where we stood almost as clearly as if it were day. Looking off toward the German lines, which are about 2 kilometers at this point, the French barrage fire in the foreground blinded our view and prevented our seeing further. It was one continuous roar of 75’s and quick succession of flashes as these little “terrors” send their “best regards” to the Boche. The ground on which we stood was once Boche territory and severe fighting had taken place there when they were forced to evacuate. It is now part of that district called “no man’s land.” No human being can stand on this ground in the daytime and expect to return alive. The air is sickening with the stench of dead and Boche helmets can be seen among the French with heads still in them. The ground is dotted with shell holes and there is not a tree in sight. Do you wonder I had a terrible dream later?

Tried to sleep, as usual, in stretcher under the man with consumption. Spent a restless night though I did manage to catch a wink now and then. I dreamed of war, of course, and my family was horribly involved. I can’t recall the details, but it was horrible and I was the bloodthirsty, heartless villan. Of course I don’t blame the brancardier for having consumption; any one living in a hole like that for any length of time would indeed be fortunate if he escaped it. But it did seem too bad that he had to keep everybody else in misery. Such is war!

I can’t even write in this book what I have been through...

In late August 1917 the U.S. Army announced that it would take over all the volunteer ambulance corps then operating in France, including the American Field Service and Norton-Harjes. The leaders of the purely volunteer ambulance services did not agree with this militarization and resigned en masse. For the individual drivers--like Grant Willard--the coming days were full of soul-searching and difficult choices: to join the U.S. Army and continue driving ambulances in France, or to quit, return to America and possibly be drafted to fight.

Sunday, August 26, 1917:

I was just going to bed when the Chief came in and wanted to know if we would take him down to Verdun where he was to meet Mr. Kemp. It was raining fiercely, but dear little Fifi behaved wonderfully. It was too dark to see any of the city. I could only see that it was very heavily fortified and Mr. Bullard said that it was considered the most heavily fortified city in the world, but not very practical for modern warfare.

We went into a barracks which consisted of a long 700 ft. concrete underground hall way with like tubes branching off at intervals on either side. It gave one a feeling of safety just to enter the place. Many thousands of troops are quartered here. No wonder Germany had Verdun for one of its chief objectives.

After about ¾ of an hour wait the Chief returned with the following information in brief: The American Government is making arrangements for taking over all American Red Cross in France. They sent over a commission to look over the work and make the arrangements. They wanted to militarize the whole system making Mr. Norton a Major, Mr. Kemp a Captain and the head of the American Ambulance Corps a Captain. The result was that our whole Paris office including Mr. Norton & Kemp & Havemeyer resigned, refusing to put their work on a military basis. They agreed to stay until the American Government was ready to take over to work, but they are through from then on. They advised us to sit quiet and await developments, but not to rush headlong in any direction until we were sure which way we were going. There are many other details in the preliminary arrangements which makes it almost certain that Section 61 will continue its work under present management for the duration of their 6 months, but at the end of that time the section to a man will return to America and run a chance of being drafted.

Personally I will not hesitate a moment about returning even though I felt that I could better myself by staying over here because I owe it to Dorothy and my family, who have seemed to be consistently opposed to my coming over here from the start, to do so. If I am drafted and have to return to France shortly to be put into the trenches in much more dangerous work I feel that I will not be to blame. I have done what I conscientiously feel is the best for all concerned and still feel the same way. Oh, if they only understood as much as I do, having seen and experienced what I have over here, -- but they probably never will. I can’t even write in this book what I have been through and what this has meant to me to say nothing of telling all when I return. Maybe when thousands return with similar and even worse stories of modern warfare than I could or would tell -- then maybe they will open their eyes. America can’t understand as these people do until they have suffered some themselves and the probably never will understand it to the degree that France does. The fact remains that no Ambulance section in this present war has been through the severity we have. The Verdun sector is a sector that many sections have absolutely refused to make. In addition to the ever-present risk and danger the French have launched to big attacks, probably the biggest ever launched, right in our sector and the adjoining one.

That God has been with us constantly is a fact which every man in the section realizes fully and does not hesitate to admit openly. We have escaped so far with no loss of life. Three men wounded has been the entire toll so far. Every man in the section has had at least one close shave and probably many more of which he was not conscious. The attacks are now completed, all objectives forced, many prisoners taken. We have been here almost three weeks and are now about due for a rest which we expect in a week or two. The men have worked hard and gloriously. We are all thin and our nerves are more or less shattered from little sleep and constant watchfulness. Many a night’s sleep has been spoiled by visiting Boche aviators or shell fire. The section has received one citation for its good work and two of its members will receive his in a couple of days for noble and fearless work.

On the ground outside were many beautiful specimens of all kinds of German shells.

Having passed the night in a shelter under shell fire, Grant Willard spent the afternoon developing many of the photos you're seeing in this blog. He'd bought a Kodak kit in Paris and developed the photos in camp.

Saturday, August 25, 1917:

Arose at 6 A.M. The Corporal gave us coffee with rum in it for breakfast and then felt insulted because we wouldn’t drink raw rum with him. On the ground outside were many beautiful specimens of all kinds of German shells. Éclat of various kinds from the size of a pea to the size of a man’s head and several sizes of shrapnel were lying all over the ground, inside and on top of our car, but the only scratch on the car itself was a slight dent in the fender. I gave most of the specimens to Johnny as he is making quite a sizable collection of junk. By 8 o’clock we were on our way hence with one blessé. Twenty four hours and one blessé.

Worked on the car until noon. Developed pictures with my new outfit from Paris all afternoon. Got fairly good results, but hope for even better next time. I think can save the boys considerable money with just as good satisfaction to them and possibly make a little money myself with my own equipment. The trial outfit cost me 27.30 FRF ($5.46)

Went to bed soon after dinner, but had to get up soon and run for an abri because Boche planes were bombing the district. Found a cot in the abri and passed a fairly comfortable night.

Shells and shrapnel were coming in almost all night and I didn’t sleep very well.

The photographs that Grant Willard took of "no man's land" during his days at Verdun are really the most gruesome in the collection. 


Friday, August 24, 1917:

Went on duty this A.M. at 7:15. Came right out here to La Source to relieve Fritz Wheeler and Geo. Taylor who had been here all night and yesterday. We walked up on the hill and got a look at the German front. It is very gruesome up there with dead bodies lying around. We took some pictures though the light is rather poor and came back with souvenirs.

An American Ambulance man, Townsend, came out to relieve their other man. About 3 P.M. we were sitting in the doorway of the abri watching Boche shells trying to find a nearby battery of 105’s when suddenly a tremendous explosion blew us backward into the abri with sand and dirt all over us. We had heard no whine indicating a nearby explosion so were naturally much surprised. Every one was unhurt and look so funny that I couldn’t help laughing long and loud. It made the Frenchmen pretty mad. Townsend and I then went up to see where the shell had hit and to ascertain whether or not the road was passable. About 250 yards up the road we discovered the cause of our disturbance. A Boche shell had hit a pile of powder “Deweys” right beside the road which had in turn ignited a similar pile directly across the road. The result was two 15 ft. deep holes where the road used to be and no possible way of getting around the place. We were marooned at La Source until they could get the holes filled which would be until after the Boche had quit shelling the valley.

The Frenchmen don’t enjoy working under shell fire very well and I don’t know that I blame them. Two men had been burned alive in a near by abri as a result of the explosion and a big 105 camion was turned completely over. No wonder we felt it down in our abri. Later when some blessés came in to La Source we had to telephone for another car from Citerne to come out as far as the hole and then carry the blessés up that far. By 5 P.M. the Boche ceased firing and by 6:30 the road was sufficiently fixed for the Ford to get through. Johnny and I spent the night at La Source. Shells and shrapnel were coming in almost all night and I didn’t sleep very well. To add to discomfort the Frenchman sleeping on the stretcher above mine had a consumptive cough and kept spitting down the wall within 4 inches of my nose. Oh, war is hell!

I’ll be glad when we get out of this hole.

On August 17, Grant's comrade, George Reed, lost two fingers on his left hand by a burst of éclat--the French word for shrapnel. He received the Croix de Guerre for his injury but had to leave the ambulance corps.

Wednesday, August 22, 1917:

Geo. Reed was presented with Croix de Guerre this P.M. All fellows who were in camp at the time lined up and Lieut. Morin made the presentation and a pretty good one. Geo. has been very plucky indeed and every one in the section was very glad to see him get the honor. I hope my pictures of the event come out alright.

At 5:30 P.M. three of us were called out to take German blessés down to Souilly. Johnnie and I were first out with 5 couchés, one an officer shot through the abdomen who could speak very good English. We got to Souilly about 7 P.M. I had a chance there to talk to them. The officer told me that he had been through several attacks, but never had he seen anything to equal this last French attack. Their artillery fire for three days before the attack was so severe that they were cut off from provisions and had not eaten for three days. His men wouldn’t fight so they surrendered. The higher German officers had told them that the French were starving to death and couldn’t pull off a successful attack. They were very much surprised. 

I asked him if he was glad to be a prisoner and after some hesitation he said hurriedly, “No! Oh no! I can’t say that. I am an officer,” and murmured something about his “Vaterland” which I couldn’t catch. I asked him if there was any chance of his being traded back to Germany with French prisoners and he said, “No, not unless I am too badly wounded to fight anymore.”

We took dinner with Section 63 doing rear evacuation work out of Souilly. They have very fine quarters and a good cook, but want to go to the front. After looking at Jake’s car which was pretty badly shot up the other night some of them changed their minds.

On our way back we ran into Boche planes which were watching for traffic on the roads. One cut loose at us with a machine gun, but didn’t touch us. They fly very low at night and sail around with their motors off listening for traffic. An arsenal was bombed up near our camp. We were pretty well scared. After the arsenal got started shells were exploding right and left. We found the camp in abris, but another load was waiting for us and we drove right back to Dugny. We were machine-gunned again, but untouched. They were bombing right and left. The Dugny road ruined just after we came in and since then many cases have come in from that district as I sit here in the hospital writing. I have spent 2 hours of this night in an abri. Carrière Sud is a summer resort compared with this place tonight. Gosh! I’ll be glad when we get out of this hole.

The guns kept up an incessant roar so that it was almost impossible to make yourself heard.

In addition to the amazing diary that Grant Willard kept during WWI, he took photos. The images he captured at Verdun in August 1917 really illustrate the severity of destruction caused by the steady shelling. 

Monday, August 20, 1917:

Reported at Citerne about 6:30 this A.M. Practically every car in both sections is out on the job. This morning at 5 A.M. the biggest offensive in the history of the war started in dead earnest. The French and English are pulling together. The guns kept up an incessant roar so that it was almost impossible to make yourself heard. We found that the road had been blown out of existence during the night, that 3 of our cars and 2 Fords had been caught out there all night. The lieutenant of Section I jumped into a Ford with the order "Carrière Sud or demolished in the attempt."

A half hour later a Ford came in from Carrière Sud with a load of 3 couchés with whom he had spent the night near the shell hole on the road. He reported things to be in terrible condition--wagons, artillery, dead horses and men blocking all traffic until the lieutenant arrived and scared up enough Frenchmen to clear the road and shoot suffering horses, etc. The road had been temporarily repaired though German shells were still dropping in the valley. Soon one of our cars followed. They had also lain in a shell hole all night but reported our 3 cars safe as well as the men.

Then came a call for 3 more Fiats at Carrière Sud. Johnnie and I led the procession with our Chief. The road was certainly a mess, but we got through untouched, the closest shell breaking not closer than 150 yards away. We found Carrière Sud still on the map, but full of wounded. Soon there must have been a dozen cars there. Among the wounded were many Germans and many unwounded prisoners. The attack was progressing very well for the French and our 42nd Division had again pushed through all of their objectives and were ready to go on. After picking up several souvenirs in the way of Boche buttons, fatigue caps, helmets, etc. we loaded up our car and made a safe return trip. The Boche seemed to be searching for batteries all around us, but came uncomfortably close to our road. On the way in we passed many hundreds of German prisoners marching down the road. It gave great joy to the hearts of these tired Frenchmen. It is the first big offensive and actual gain they have made in this sector since the successful German repulsion at Verdun.