Got one trip to Neufchâteau and saw all the old gang at Base 66.

Grant's comrade, Robert Ware Bodfish, was born on September 8, 1895, in Palmer, Massachusetts. After graduating from Clark University in 1917, he became an ambulance driver with the American Field Service in France, and subsequently enlisted in the American Army and joined SSU 647. Back in the U.S., Bodfish went to Harvard Law, married and settled down in Springfield, Mass. That's where he died on January 17, 1991.

Saturday, November 9, 1918:

’Tis official that delegates have conferred with Foch and have returned to Germany and have until Monday at 11 A.M. to sign the armistice. Great news because they are sure to sign it this time. I’ll bet they are some terms.

Pagny-la-Blanche-Côte

Sunday, November 10:

Went on post today with Bodfish as aide. We went to a place called Pagny and worked with Capt. Dowling of the 325th. Got one trip to Neufchâteau and saw all the old gang at Base 66. They sure were glad to see us and we were glad to see them. Jack Swain and Harris were there also. We went down to #13 to see our old lady who used to cook us such good meals, but she was out so Bod. and I returned.

We are living at a deserted aviation camp

The small village of Amanty, in the French department of the Meuse, lies in an area of vast aquifers. When I visited there in February 2010, the water was gurgling up out of the ground right in the streets. 

Thursday, November 7, 1918:

Amanty village hall

Moved at noon today for a place called Amanty about 7 km out of Gondrecourt[-le-Château]. We are living at a deserted aviation camp here just out of Amanty. Our barracks are splendid and we are off by ourselves for once. We live in what used to be the photographic shop. Our dining room is in another barracks and shop in still another.

War news is most encouraging. It was rumored today that Germany had sent delegates to Foch to talk armistice.

Bar-le-Duc is spoiled just like all other French towns invaded by Americans.

SSU 647 moves off the front line.

Sunday, November 3, 1918:

Left this A.M. - 7 o’clock - in convoy for les Islettes. We are glad to get off the front, but we hate to leave our mill. We were very comfortably fixed with plenty of stoves and wood for a cold winter. Arrived at les Islettes about 10 A.M. Joe Harris and I were dispatched to the next town to await further orders through Major Sparr. At 4 P.M. the orders came and we returned to the section. Five cars are to remain with headquarters. The rest of us leave for Bar-le-Duc in the morning. 

Wilhelm II (1859-1941)

The abdication of the Kaiser was confirmed in the papers this afternoon.


Monday, November 4:

Bar-le-Duc, 2008

We arrived in Bar-le-Duc at 10 P.M. today having left les Islettes at 7:30. We are now at the auto parc about 3 miles outside of Bar. 

Our time is our own. Joe Harris, Hap, Risley and myself went into Bar to take a bath this P.M., but found too long a line in waiting so we walked around the town and ate dinner in a quiet little cafe off the main street. Got a fairly good feed, but Bar is spoiled just like all other French towns invaded by Americans.

A very heavy and continuous barrage has been going all day.

In a matter of weeks in October and November 1918 the governments of the Central Powers fell apart. On October 6 the Germans sent an armistice request to President Wilson, which was rejected. On October 17 the Austro-Hungarian Empire began to dissolve: Hungary separated from Austria, and the next day Czechoslovakia was declared. On November 9 Kaiser Wilhelm II abdicated and the Weimar Republic was declared.

Friday, November 1, 1918:
    Hell broke this morning about 3 o’clock. A very heavy and continuous barrage has been going all day. Our position is a novel one indeed. Here we are right up in the midst of things and we haven’t got a car out except on an occasional “tour of inspection” for our own benefit. Reports up to 4 P.M. today were not over encouraging. The Boche are resisting stubbornly. But after our rush had passed machine gun emplacements the whole Boche line had given way and up to 10 P.M. our boys were still going forward find it difficult to keep in touch with the enemy. There is practically no resistance from their artillery. I think they have made preparations for this retreat days ago. This attack is a general attack along the whole front. Tonight’s’ reports state that the whole line has advanced, many prisoners and much booty have been captured.

Saturday, November 2:
    Our boys are still advancing having met slight resistance. Apremont is so far behind the lines now that even the big guns sound far off. Many prisoners are passing down the road. About 3000 were assembled this A.M. in the field near the Chateau. Very young! Some look worn and very exhausted. All seem to be very thankful and satisfied with their present lot. 

    Two or three of our cars have been up over the new front souvenir hunting. They report terrible devastation wrought by our artillery both in life and property. Many interesting souvenirs are coming in. Chapigneulle and St. Georges and Imécourt saw the brunt of our barrage and severe hand to hand combat later.
 
    We have our orders to move and leave tomorrow morning for les Islettes, there to await further orders. Wouldn’t be at all surprised if 647 and the 82nd had seen the last of front action. ’Tis reported that we are bound for Vaucouleurs down near Neufchâteau for a long repos during which time the division will be recruited.

Many, many times things come up in this make-shift life of ours over here which remind me of past experiences.

A meal served in an army mess brought back memories to Grant of a canoe trip in more peaceful days, and he wrote his sister, Marion, to tell her about it. 

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

Wednesday – Oct.30, 1918

Dear Sis:-

Marion Willard Everett

I’ve got a hunch tonight and am going to follow it out.

Do you recall a certain day a number of years ago that found you, Bick, Tib and myself afloat on the lake adjourning Lake Kaumbauniabikitchieagamock (or was it Long Lake?) in a canoe – and we stopped on a certain small picturesque little island, either on our way to or from Ely, and cooked a meal amid the rocks? Do you remember what we ate beside bacon? Wasn’t it beans and cocoa? Well tonight I carried my carcass and mess-kit to the kitchen to fall in the mess line. We were served bacon, beans and cocoa (plus hot biscuits, jam and butter). I escorted this layout carefully to the dug-out in which several of us sleep and keep warm and started to eat it beside our good hot Boche stove. One mouth full of beans a sip of cocoa brought the picture of which I am asking you as vividly as if it were yesterday to my mind. What could it have been if not the food? The more I think about it, however, I believe it was McMillan instead of Tib who made up the four. Hadn’t we just been in to get Bick or were we taking Mac into Ely when he left us? 

Many, many times things come up in this make-shift life of ours over here which remind me of past experiences. We always have bacon on hand over here and hardly a day passes but we get it in some form or other but, of course, nowhere near as good as that we used to fry over the open fire. We also have cocoa when we are fortunate enough to run on to a kind hearted Red Cross man to furnish it and the milk to go with it. The coffee we get is terrible partly because our cooks don’t know how to make it but mostly because the only good water we get is chlorinated and give the coffee a taste which I can’t stand. These are about the only articles in the food line which correspond to those we used to make ourselves. Our cooks can and do make delicious flap-jacks whenever we can get milk but they don’t taste like they did in the good old days when eggs and Vermont maple syrup were plentiful. A new delicacy has recently crept into style in our outfit – a piece of bread fried in bacon grease with a bit of sugar sprinkled on top to be eaten while hot. It tastes pretty good for a change. Fresh meat is as scarce as black and white whiskey over here.

Another thing which brought back old times was the pictures which mother sent of your Milnor[, North Dakota] trip. How natural you all look. I believe Dad and Mother are getting younger every day. Dad looks like a boy in his nice, new auto cap and Mother like a gay, young butterfly – the kind that makes the heart flutter, as Tib would say. And Connie – why doesn’t some big, good-looking, prosperous young business man have sense enough to grab her? Maybe she doesn’t want to bother with one but the more I think about it the more my respect for the male sex diminishes. As for you, my dear sister, I must confess that, in spite of the fact that I have Dot to take your place, I grow more and more jealous of Bill – “and there you have it,” in words of John Barty, champion prizefighter of England (Jeffrey Farnol’s Amateur Gentleman.”) Lest I wax sentimental I’m going to change the subject.

Poor old Bill! He certainly isn’t satisfied in Marseilles, one of the most beautiful cities in France, is he? I don’t know as I blame him much at that though I would gladly change places with him for awhile. One feels like an awful slacker to be back so far when such great doings are in process but rats! What difference does it make in the long run? Bill will be able to tell as many gruesome tales as any of us when it’s all over and that’s the really big thing of the war (?). If Bill’s imagination falls short I can steer him on to a couple of good pals of mine who can give him enough awfulness in 5 minutes to cover pages and pages in book form. This war is sure great on developing imaginative powers. I feel sorry for you all when we are cut loose upon civilization once more. 

Isn’t it a grand and glorious feeling to read the papers these days? Marshal Foch is right on the job. Sis, though I’m not as optimistic as some, I believe we’re going to be home by a year from Xmas. My heart almost explodes every time I think of it. Won’t we have some good times?

Now good-night. There’s something doing outside and I’ve got to go out and see what it’s all about.

Lovingly,

Grant.

P.S.:- Fritz is trying for our roads back here tonight but he’s a poor shot. 
GRW

P.S.:- Tell mother I was a mechanic for one month when yellow jaundice came along and saved my life. I am now a driver on my old car again (#11) and have been since returning from Paris. It’s a good car but I miss Johnnie for an aide. He’s driving a car of his own these days.
GRW

Took a shower-- the first since returning from Paris. Everybody has cooties!

As the First World War entered its final weeks, the German government reached out to U.S. President Woodrow Wilson about a possible armistice. The Germans hoped to split the Americans away from their British and French allies and get easier terms. In his reply to the Germans, published in newspapers around October 24th, Wilson was resolute in his commitment to the Allied cause and would not hear of a separate peace. 
  

Thomas Woodrow Wilson (1856-1924)

Sunday, October 27, 1918:

Got 3 hours of sleep last night. Pretty good for me on post. Our guns cut loose this A.M. at 4 o’clock and a couple of big boys over back of us somewhere shook me out of bed. Sat in the dressing station until 6 A.M. when I got a call to Sommerance. Fritz raised hell in Fléville last night. Several new shell holes in the road and many newly killed horses.

Read Pres. Wilson’s reply to German plea for armistice. ’Tis a wonderful note though the last paragraph was sufficient. Hope there is no armistice until we have German militarism ousted. Don’t think it will be long now. What is the new German system going to amount to?

Took a shower bath this A.M. at headquarters -- the first since returning from Paris. Everybody has cooties!

Relief came at 1 P.M. Returned to camp and worked on car. Grady Chapman took my car back on post for this shift.

Monday, October 28:

Spent the day in cleaning up our dugout and person. Put a stove in our house and cut a pile of wood with Al LaFleur. Got letters from Dot and Mother dated Oct.1st. Not bad time at all. Wrote notes to both last night. The big noise which we all expect very soon up here is being delayed for some reason. Still massing artillery. New divisions up here are 77th, 80th, 2nd and 27th. The 42nd is the only division being relieved that we know anything about.

Played bridge this evening with Titchner against Burt and McCrackin. We lost. A man by the name of Stevens dropped in on me this eve. He hails from Ambler, [PA], knows Dot who told him to look me up. He is a nice, good boy from S.S.U. 554 now with the 2nd division -- just down from the Champaign. Took a walk with him later and had a good talk. Still more proud of 647 than ever.

...no sleep and just enough gas to make me very sleepy and dopey...

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

Sunday – Oct. 26, 1918

Dearest Mother:-

In compliance with Section order #46, I am writing you this note. The order calls for a letter but this is the best I can do now. Maybe I’ll be here tomorrow – if so I’ll write again.

Order #46 reads as follows:- In accordance with general orders from Hq. A.E.F. commanding officers of the units of A.E.F. are to be held responsible that enlisted men of their respective commands write home at least once a week.

I have just come in from 24 hours on post with no sleep and just enough gas to make me very sleepy and dopey so I’m afraid I can’t do much by way of a letter.

Tonight another big racket starts and the chances are that we shall all be called out again before morning so I must pull in for a bit of sleep.

Am enclosing a “Lettre de Félicitations” sent, I think, to all S.S.U. sections by General Pétain.  It makes a rather good souvenir.

Your letter of Oct. 1st reached me yesterday.  Pretty good time compared to the way mail has been coming during this push.

Expect we’ll be going forward again tonight.  Am very tired as is everyone else in the section but excitement keeps our minds off of such trivials.

Heaps of love,
Grant.

Apremont

And Grant's diary entry for this day:

Saturday, October 26:

Went up on post again this A.M. with Waldock for an aide and Kirkpatrick, Putnam and Gaynor as other drivers. Artillery activity is picking up on our front. Apremont is shelled every morning and night to endeavor to cripple operations on the railhead. No damage has been done so far. They are coming darn close to our mill, however. I prescribe another advance to spoil Fritz’s range on our home. Fléville is under almost constant fire. It’s an awfully good thing they moved our dressing station out and back to the farm because the old place has been hit twice and our nice little ambulance home is in ruins. 

Fléville

Fléville is lousy with artillery -- 75s, 155s and 210s. Every clump of bushed and every natural shelter the other side of Fléville bristles with howitzers and 155 rifles. Tonight the roads were so choked with guns and ammunition and we had a great deal of difficulty in getting our ambulances through. Speed left the farm for Sommerance this evening at 6:00. At 9 o’clock he hadn’t returned. We began to get worried. At 9:15 McCrackin and I went up to the ditch and barns and Fléville. Got but one patient. Things were quiet. Told Mac that I would run up to Sommerance on phone and were told that Speed had left there at 7:30 with three patients. I was just starting out when in pulled Speed. I sure was relieved because I never saw a darker night, and a heavier fog with just enough sneezing and tear gas on the roads to make things disagreeable -- and traffic! Speed had been held up all this time in traffic. Couldn’t do a thing against it. Never saw so many guns.

American artillery and ammunition