All posts by cumminsclan

1919 Marre

[date placement appoximate}


The Fighting Near Marre.


[note: I have no idea what CMC’s actual route was. MSC]

Just before leaving the neighborhood of our first visit to the front, my companions and I were introduced to a new army custom. We had been taught throughout our army training that we should not steal from the other fellows. My pals and I had all of our extra clothing stored in a little box and carelessly, we left this box in the open. Consequently the next morning when we went to look after our belongings, we discovered that someone had use an ax and torn the box open and pinched everything that they possibly could. Some infantry boys had returned from the front that night and I suppose they needed the stuff. We did not particularly care since it relieved us of considerable extra stuff that we did not need. We soon learned that we must discard everything that we did not need.

Our help being no longer needed near Parois we moved to a position along the Meuse River and canal,


near the towns of Charny and Marre—many kilometers distant. We first went from Parois to a French camp near Nixeville. We called the place Camp Mud. If that was not its name in French, it was an appropriate one in English, for the place was very muddy indeed!

Parois to Nixeville


The barracks here were very common. The best feature about them was that they had good roofs. But we did not worry about the barracks, since our stay here would surely be short. We had a number of French soldiers for our company here, and here and there about the camp were to be found various units of Sammy’s troops.

The roads into this camp were very bad. One was very lucky to pull thru them with a truck without getting stuck, and the more one tried to get out, the deeper the wheels would sink.

We were not getting much news from the outside world at this time. Occasionally an airplane would fly over the camp and


drop a New York Herald, Daily Mail of a Chicago Tribune. Oh! How anxious we were to see these papers. Just about like getting letters from home—and by the way we had not heard from home for two or three weeks.

As we moved different parts of our regiment would start first, which necessarily meant that we were very much scattered. On Oct. 4th I was in Camp Mud, but was soon to leave there. I went to a little wood near Germonville Oct. 5th and remained there over night. Here I slept in my pup tent again. I think that name pup tent is a very appropriate one since the tents were first size to shelter a good sized pup. One had to be careful not to play ostrich: with the head covered and with the feet subject to the weather.

The next evening I proceeded to a little hill just about Germonville and there my home remained for two or three days. I hunted about to find a dug out and we my comrade and I finally found one that had been deserted by the French. It was very



[Germonville, Fromeréville-les-Vallons, is just a named place, not even a crossroad—MSC]

dangerous to sleep out in the open because the Germans were sending over bombing planes every night. During the night we could hear the bombs drop nearby, and the next morning discover how close they came to our quarters.

I never moved unless I tried to fix up some place decent to live in. At least, one could generally find some way out of a difficult situation and  My partner and I were good at that. Here at Germonville just as soon as we discovered a dugout we immediately began a search for a stove and something to make a bed of. We, at last had collected all the necessary material, and were well set, when order came for us to move. One felt that he never would try to make things comfortable again.

I have often wondered why the front remained stationary for so long in places, but after I had studied the situation over together with my experience, I decided that the French and Germans had devoted considerable energy in making their dugouts comfortable, and after all comfort came, they


hated to be disturbed and chased from their pleasant quarters. There must have been a mutual agreement between the combatants in come cases. Who wanted to be chased out of comfortable quarters in the midst of fields.

The Germans certainly did have their dugouts arranged comfortably. Nice chairs and tables, wooden floors and they even had glass windows for some rooms of their dugouts. Of course such places were for officers only. God only know where the privates lived! They were lucky if they lived at all!

In leaving Germonville and going to Marre, we passed many of the big forts, which helped to save the Crown Prince from taking Verdun in his attempt before. These forts were in the tops of hills north of Verdun, and well equipped with guns.

Germonville to Marre

Marre, France medium

Marre, France

I remember the first night that I spent along the Meuse. I slept in my tent just at the foot of a hill where one of these guns were placed. As they belched forth, the whole valley reverberated with the noise of the explosion. They made a terrific noise and was very much noticeable to a newcomer. My bed was so located just so that the shell


should fly over my head.

Fort de Bois Bourrus, Marre

Fort auf dem Marre-Rucken

Fort du Marre

Fort du Marre, main entrance

I was amused at one of the boys that night. He was one who had always preached fatalism to me and was orthodox so far as that philosophy goes. This chap slept under a bridge near by, and at this time the Germans were doing some bombing in the vicinity. Furthermore a bridge made a very fine target for a bombing plane and if they could destroy a bridge a good night’s work was done. Well this Hebrew that certainly [knew] that they were bombing the vicinity that night, and he kept all the remainder of the boys awake by his rather loud desires to move to other quarters. “Ha! A fatalist wishing to make a move to safer quarters? Well if that Bomber has your name he’ll get you wherever you are.” Said his companion.

So they finally urged him to remain under the bridge for the night, and he still argued for fatalism.

I never was a very stanch believer in such a theory and took it upon myself to seek safer quarters

[This is the last piece of the memoir.]

1918-11-10 – France

on plain stationery, tear perforations at top of page

Somewhere In France , 11/10/18

My dearest Olive:

 Will write you a letter today. I did not get around to write you yesterday and the day before. We have been busy for some time now. Our work in the field is harder than in camp. We are not in camps now—living in the open, if you please. We have been since we were on the front.

The Germans are retreating on this front. The observe the retreat by balloon. They draw the balloon by attaching it to a truck and drawing it along the road while it is in the air. Prisoners are going back continuously. Saw quite a number of Italians as well as American, so the Germans are living up to the contract insofar as releasing prisoners is concerned.

I did not feel very well last evening, but feel much better today. Thot I was going to have the prig but not that now. The first time I have felt sick since coming to the front. Am feeling food now. We do not know how long we will be stationed here. May move anytime. The only thing to do is to be patient and await orders.

We will be sure to return home at some future date, but cannot tell when. Ought to be there in a few months anyway. I expect we will have lots of interesting experience still, but thanks we will not be facing shells coming our direction.

You have finished the second week of your third month now. You are surely teaching again by now. I am glad that you had the rest. Thanks for the gum. I always get that and it goes good.

We had those Xmas permits given out too late. You know they had to be mailed by the 22 of Nov. from the states. Only about 25% of our men got those permits, because there were not enough to go around. I [unreadable  ‘wish__’?]  more since we are going to be on the move we might never have a chance to get the package. Then, too you have enough to tend to as its is.

 The Kaiser abdicated, the Crown Prince  assassinated and the proclamation of a republic in Deutschland bid fare for a bright future for us. Hope you are well. It will be near Xmas by the time you get this letter. Get yourself something for Xmas and sya it is from your husband, you know, use my money. Will close.

Your loving husband,


1918-10-27 – France


Somewhere in France,  10/27/1918

Dearest Olive:

 I misdated that letter I wrote you yesterday, but you can make that correction yourself. It should have been dated the 26th. I have been chasing around this morning trying to make things just a little more comfortable around our home. Getting wood and various things. Dunevant [sp?] is boiling some clothes this morning. So far we have not had the cooties but we are not bragging.

This is another beautiful day and everything seems cheery,–but little activity on this front now but hard to tell when things will break loose. Any minute might bring forth something. I read a bulletin this morning saying that Pres. Wilson had referred the armistice proposal to the other allied countries. I hope hat something will come of it, but we cannot tell. I want this letter to leave in today’s mail.

Yours affectionately,


1918-10-3 – France

Somewhere in France, October 3, 1918

Dear Olive:

I have not been writing you every day simply because I have not got to it. You will just have to take them as they come from now on. I will write when I can. I have not had any word from you for some time—the letter received was written August 25th—considerably more than a month. We are looking for some mail soon now. We have new connections made with the post office department.

This has been a very nice torn once but it has been shelled too much by the Germans to be beautiful any more. We have a room that is very secure—we keep a fire going all the time in the large open fireplace. The post office force is with me, we sleep in the same room.

They are very successful along this front in driving back the Germans. They have fallen back 15 or 20 kilometers, which means a very nice gain. I was out among the big guns yesterday. Sometime I am going out and visit the infantry trenches just to see what things are like. [The previous sentence was typed in red.]

 We must be at least twelve miles back of the doughboys, now, We will move forward soon. As you well know, it is much better to be able to move forward than backward.

 Good news the Bulgarians are surrendering—Turkey will no doubt follow soon—Austria next the then Germany—still I think the war will continue into summer.

Hope you are coming fine in you fifth week’s work and I feel sure that you are. I am anxious to hear from you.

Sincerely yours,


1918-9-28 – France

Stationery: plain 8 ½ by 11 typing paper

Somewhere in France, Sept. 28, 19

Dear Olive:

I have not written you for almost a week, simply because it was impossible to send them even though I could write them. You know also the difficulty of writing when one is travelling. We left our training camp and are now in action in the realities of bellicose conditions. It hardly seems possible that we are here, but the roar of our heavy guns a few miles away tells us we are near that line that you see from time to time in your maps—called the Hindenberg Line.

We are billeted in a town where all the inhabitants have been driven out; many of the buildings are destroyed. Large holes in the sides of them tell us that the Boches at one time were not far distant.

A part of our regiment is already in action, while a part is in readiness. I am about five miles back of the lines at regimental headquarters. We saw a number of German prisoners pass yesterday evening shortly after our arrival here. We had to foot and ride a distance of twenty miles after leaving the trains. We were a tired lot but you would be surprised at the way I stood it when I had not been accustomed to much hiking. I stood it better than many of the others who are used to hikes.

 I have been very busy trying to get mailing connections established. We always try to get mail out as soon as possible. It will be some time ere we get mail direct from the states, since the mailing authorities must be informed as to our location.

Our trip here on the train was a pleasant one—I enjoyed it all the way. I am getting so I can sleep most any place and under any noise . Noise used to bother me so,–but not much now.

There was a French observation balloon downed this morning in the distance. It could be plainly seen from here—We could see the shells bursting in the air while the Germans were shooting at it. They did not get the observer, as soon as the balloon caught fire he manipulated his parachute and grounded safely.

We slept in our pup tents last evening, but managed to get under cover this evening. We have a fire place in one corner and I am writing by candle light. We are in an old house. This town was previously occupied by French soldiers. I see signs over the door “Cave 25 Hommes” which means a cave for 25 men. You would think this is an American country since American soldiers are more numerous than French. There are some negroes stationed here. It rained here most of the night. The roads are not so bad here in town since they were good before the war. The roads toward the front are very good, piked most all the way, and that is quite a help in getting supplies to the front.

You have closed your first month of school and I have never heard from you since a week before school began. hope you are well. I am.

Affectionately yours,


1918-9-23 and after–Coetquidan to Parois

Map of WWI front lineSeptember 23, 26 are mentioned in the text

Written in pencil and pen on YMCA paper

ymca stationery 1

CMC 1919-9 ms 1


            The railroads were overtaxed. Demands after demands were made on all transportation in France. Consequently, to procure a train on scheduled time was an abnormal occurrence in these times of war. When we think of the tremendous burden which the R.R. systems had to bear in France we can be but thankful to say the least. She not only had to see that her own troops were taken to the front, but was an ever ready aid in seeing that the troops of her allies were transported also. It is true that Uncle Sam succeeded in a short time to alleviate the situation by building locomotives and cars for his own use, but he was working at a tremendous disadvantage, so great dependence necessarily he to fall upon the French transporting systems.

We had special trains to carry our troops from the training camps to the front. Ours had been ordered and we were to leave early that night—but the train did not arrive until the two o’clock at night. All out impediments had to be loaded. Tis a job to load all the accoutrements which accompany a battery or company of Field artillery. All the horses, wagons, saddles, rifles, guns kitchen apparatae must be


loaded. Even at that a company working in good accord can easily load itself in a couple of hours and less time than when necessary.

We had our horses, even though we were supposed to be motorized. All our training had been for motorization, but we were unlucky and had to use the horses during the whole time at the front.

Geur map

Having loaded, we left Guer at 10 P.M. September 23. There were both box cars and regular third class passenger coaches on the train. It was necessary for two men to remain in each car with the horses, and care for them en route. They made their beds and slept at the horses’ heads, and take it from me that when the horses and the two men were in one of the small box cars they were full to the uttermost. The men scarcely


had room to sleep. Sometimes the horses would break loose and step on the boys while they were sleeping. It took a heavy sleeper to rest with some of these equestrian animals. The stamp, the whinnie, and the kick of some of the big stallions we had were something to battle against.

Always when the train would stop near water the tender would leap with his bucket to fetch a pail of water for the horses. The hay was placed in the cars.

On one car our kitchen was placed. The cooks would travel on this flat open car and cook as we went along. The table etiquette was indeed meagre. We were lucky if we have time at meal time to jump from the cars and chase to the kitchen and get our corresponding quotas of bully beef, etc. Some times the train would give a “toot” and steam out before half the line was fed, and that was allright. The next stop would suffice. Leave it to a yankee soldier to get enough to eat, if enough is to be had.

Occasionally when the train would stop I would run back and visit


a pal until the next stop. There was nothing like getting acquainted with everything in the train if possible. We would talk about the horses or the landscape. Occasionally someone would yell “Come look at the winding River landscape” or some lad who was more particularly interested in the Madamoiselles along the way would attend them with a persevering eye. Such a one would generally whistle to let the others have a look also. A woman was a precious thing to the boys. The most of us had been separated from women for a year and naturally being human we were always willing to take an interested glance at the fair maidens at the slightest provocation.

Seldom would we speak of what we were going to do at the front. Everyone had that anxious interest in seeing the front. We had heard so much about it. The papers and magazines were full of items about the front. Even editors at home would use their imaginations from descriptions which they read from papers. Poets wrote many


absurd lines. They sounded very well, but they lacked the real imagery which naturally surrounds a modern battle field. Some would speak of the boys carrying the colors over the top, which had they been in the fray they would not have made such an error. The authors are like nature poets who know but little about nature. One must know a sparrow before he writes about it and so one must actually experience days in a modern battles ere he is capable of sensing the realities of such combats. We would sometimes use our imagination on this trip to the front. However the nearer we cam to the mouths of the Boshe’s Cannon the more vivid our imaginations became. We were not afraid to go further.

We thot we knew where we were going when we started from Coetquidan [the camp in Guer?]. The Americans had a Railhead at Bar le Duc and we were confident that we would terminate our journey at this city. We knew as we came near Revigny and Barleduc that we could not go much further or we would penetrate the Hindenberg line by a new method. We knew after travelling a


couple of days with but few stops we must be nearing our destination. Then too, we had a map and with but little pains we could very easily locate ourselves.

The nearer we approached the terminus of our steam journey, the more we could see the effects of war. Here and there graves of French soldiers could be seen near the track. These were probably aviators graves, and perhaps they had been buried where they fell. Stockades for prisoners could be seen along the way, and Fritzies with their peculiar shaped caps with the red band could be seen laboring, under the guidance of French guards.

At last our engine let out a long shrill whistle, as if being overtaxed it were glad to rid its self of its load. The word went about that we were there. We arrived at Revigny September 25 after night. There were no lights, save a little fire which a few boys of some sanitary train had built out in the open to keep themselves warm and make the pace have at least a tinge of home life about it. One imagine what a fire means until he must do without it awhile. I noticed that on the march to the Rhine whenever we tarried


for an hour someone would rush for the powder can and coax a fire with the aid of a few sticks of wood. Just as soon as a little blaze was started a circle of Kakki clad lads would be gathered about it, and if the builder was not careful he would be entirely crowded from the results of his labors.

The next thing to do was unload the train and take to march. We had reached the end of our journey by train, but there was still another which required a double effort on our parts.

The sounds of guns could be plainly heard in the north. In fact it was one continuous roar, with a now and then augmented report made by a long distant gun which was not very far away. We were in the dark moping about using no other senses but the muscular, speech and feeling. No lights were allowed. I do not understand why the sanitary boys were still allowed to feed their fires from the boxes that lay near by. Anyhow we were to use no lights. The horses must be hitched. The driver must be on the alert. Each one had his particular team to look after, and nobody desired to be the last one ready


to go. Those who had individual mounts had to get their steeds from the car and make them ready for riding. With all inconveniences of the evening and the sharp shrill voice the some in the company we finally managed to start out.

Those afoot followed in the rear. I being one of these know more about the foot-soldiers as Caesar used to call them than those who rode.

We thot certainly from the reports of the guns that we were certainly near the fighting front. It was at the beginning of the big September drive and the Yanks in this sector were throwing over their big supply of ammunition which Kaiser Bill thot at one time would never be. The sky in the north was lighted. Suddenly parts would become more intensely lighted until the rays would be an aid to illumine our way. Now and then a signal would be seen to burst in midair which would intensify the battle scene. Airplanes would fly about above us. The buzz would first be faint and as they came near the [?] noise would become louder and more distinct and then I could hear it fade away in the distance. I did


not know but what these were German planes. In fact we were all green at the business and were perfectly willing to be quite [quiet] while the bird was passing overhead.

We were not allowed to smoke on the way to the front, since the light from the cigars and cigarettes would disclose our positions. If a marching company could thus be detected, a bombing plane could begin at one end of a marching column and drop bombs until it had played havoc with the whole bunch of men. Then too a plane armed with machine guns would, under suspicion [?] swoop down close to the ground and open fire. The methods were often used by planists. Indeed units of our regiment suffered such a plight once or twice while on the march at night. Such an attack is very hard on the morale of the men and thus we were cautioned on these marches as we approached nearer the battlefields to carful about our actions in this regard.

As we went through Revigny, a town near 8 mi. a little north of east of Bar le Duc. I saw the first effects of war upon French property. I reverted in my war history and determined whether or not Revigny was ever under German control


in the war, and decided that it was not. The buildings that were destroyed were then bombed or else destroyed by shells from the long range guns. Everything was dead about the village. Parts of the town was apparently intact, and certainly the town was still inhabited, but other than the life and good spirit of my comrades there was no life about the place. The natives were perhaps asleep, since it was approaching midnight as the last part of our company left this station yard.

Being thrown out into the midst of a new country, we were kept guessing as to where we were going. Some said Metz. Others Verdun. Using the North Star as our guide we knew that we ever kept a north easterly direction that night, and by make comparisons of the relative location of these towns, surely we would land in or about Verdun.

There was no chance of a regiment being located in a city. The corps, the divisional or the army headquarters always had the monopoly on the cities. When we heard we were going to Coblenz after the armistice was signed, I knew that I would be lucky if I ever saw the place. We went around Paris, and did


[missing—actually appears just misnumbered]


not go thru it. All such is army tactics. Not everyone can be satisfied in the army. If such were the case we would all want to be soldiers.

I had heard a “Y” man lecture in Camp Coetquidan and he had informed us that we would have a long march to the front and further that the most of the marching would be done at night. He further said that we would be very tired, and he was right. When we reached the French barracks that night the bunch was willing to sleep in the road. The boys laid down by the road side while the officers went to provide sleeping quarters for the men. I could have easily slept in the road that night and would have had a plenty of company.

However, after our arrival [unreadable word—‘at’?] these temporary barracks, sleeping quarters were procured for the most of us. We did not arise very early the next morning but when we did we were eager first before eating to discover a stream of water where we could wash. A clear flowing stream passed by near our home and we applied the water freely here.

I inquired of some of the French soldiers here about the distance to the



trenches. “Oh!,” said they, in their native tongue flavored with English. “The Devils have been retreating so fast that certainly they must be 20 or 30 kilometers from here.” “If this were true,” thought I, “there still remains a big march ahead of us.” I had further reason for my opinion, since the few American soldiers I had met along the way had told me practically the same story.

Anyhow in the afternoon, we had a band concert by our band and after supper—just as soon as darkness had come we resumed our journey toward the front. Everyone felt refreshed after the night’s rest in the French barracks. We were told that we only had short distance to travel, and that kept the spirit high among us pedestrians. Our packs were not very heavy. We had eliminated most everything possible—only the pack and a raincoat was left. So long as we carried that much we were obeying the order which said we must carry packs.

The use of imagination is not enough to tell of the boys as they trudged


along on these marches after night. We were not ourselves. We had been reared more or less to make our own decisions. At home when we were tired we could [unreadable] a bed and rest and if we desired not to do a thing we were not forced to do it, but in the army one is simply the tool of his next senior in command. What the senior officer commands must be done by his inferior. One’s own initiative on these trips was thrown in the waste basket and his mind had to be an automatic machine more or less that is made only to act at the stimulus of some officer. However practically all one does on such a journey is to think, but he never gets to use the product of this thot. [the last sentence is a bit constructed from an interpretation of the ms.]

The foremost thots were those concerning our destination. Could we arrive there in time to get a little rest? Could we find a place to spread our blankets in the woods where we stopped? Would we arrive before morning? And when could we continue our march? All such interrogations could be heard in the various conversations among the boys. As a general rule we were gay when we started on our journey, but we [were] practically dumb in a few hours


and then nothing could be heard but the trudge of the men, the clatter of the horses shoes hitting the hard roads. And the report of canons in the distance. The roads in this section were good.

As we neared our destination sudden stops would be made in the line. Parking places had to be found for the carriages and suitable places discovered for the horses. While this was going on there was necessarily many jogs and stoppages in the rear of the lines. Such stops were tremendously discouraging those in the rear, especially when the weather became cool and disagreeable. There was nothing for the pedestrian to do in such instances but continue in movement of some sort by kicking about or by running up and down this road, and generally we were so tired that locomotion of any form was in the least pleasant.

Revigny-sur-Ornain, France to Waly, France – Google Maps Revigny-sur-Ornain, France to Waly, France - Google Maps

Revigny to Waly--smallRevigny to Waly--larger


[B marks Waly]

Waly, Lorraine, France--2012

We arrived in a big wood near Waly that night at about 2 a.m. These arrivals in total darkness in unknown quarters was disgusting at times. The wood was damp. In fact it had been raining and the underbrush was still dripping with rain. The roads or


by ways were all cut up, and the continual dodging about between the trees and stumps was certainly little fascinating to the drivers, but they seldom whimpered.

Of course in all these marches we were very adequately equipped. Our pup tents were ever handy. That night of September 26th my companion and I had an argument as to whether or not we should pitch our tents. The appearance of the sky was suspicious. We decided however that we would not drive the pegs and just sleep out in the open and get all the air that was to be had. But alas! our first bed was a failure. We had been rather hasty in selecting our spot. We were too close to the picket line, and what if some of those stallions should succeed in loosing themselves and come over and tramp over us? We were not long in picking up our bed and finding another spot for it, but this time we made the bright decision to spread the little tent. The decision was bright because the next morning


when we wakened, shower saluted us. We did not arise very early that morning. In fact we usually remained in our beds until seven or eight o’clock the morning after forced marches.

Common sense must be used whenever possible in the army as well as it should be in ordinary civil life. Army Generals realize that the human body can only endure so much and beyond that, more endurance is but to little avail. I must credit the generals with discretion in such matters. Wherever possible the feelings of the private soldier was considered. It is wonderful though what man can endure at times.

“Pack up we are leaving at nine this morning.” said the Captain.

All was right. We were all quite refreshed after our outing during the night and was ready to pursue our journey farther. We knew that we only had one more lap to make and then we would probably go into position and fire our first 155 at the Hun. That would be our great delight—a thing for which we had


expended a tremendous amount of effort and time.

As we left the wood on that morning of the 27th, the question struck me: “Why have we come to the front this far under cover of night, and now as we approach our position start out on a bright sunny morning?” That I suppose is one of those peculiar military secrets, known only to a few.

There was no singing on our trip that day. Nobody was frightened, but I suppose there was an undercurrent of this philosophie floating in the mind of each of our boys. Ambulances would occasionally whiz by. An occasional airplane could be seen devastated perhaps by an enemy plane. The real trench—the war fare trenches were seen stretching across the fields as we passed.

We always had to keep to the side of the road in order to facilitate traffic and when the order would come to fall out of our ten minute


rest period, everyone must fall out at the right of the road.

As we neared our destination, various signs could be read along the road. Occasionally Bosce notice could be seen which showed that they one time held the country. Of course that was pleasing to us, since we knew that we were beating the boys at their own game

Parois, Lorraine, France[Parois is marked by the pin; note Revigny-sur-Omain and Bar-le-Duc to the south.]

Parois, Lorraine, France-2012 [Parois is marked with B]

The evening of September 27th found us at Parois. We were the first part of our regiment to arrive here, and indeed we were only the advance party of our regiment to find [?] ourselves here. The remainder of the regiment was to follow. One battalion was loaded at Camp Coetquidan at a time and since we we[re] the first to load naturally the remainder of the regiment would closely follow us to the rear.

Parois was one time held by the Germans. Indeed they one time swept thru the town much farther South, but gradually they had been pressed back until now they were grappling with the allies in the Argonnes Forest to the Northeast and the Hesse woods to the North.


            This small town of Parios was a small country place. Only the remains of buildings could be seen. Only occasionally one would find a room which was entirely covered wit a roof. The first night here, I slept in my little tent, but the following day, some troops were moving out and my partner and I looked about and discovered an upstairs room that was roofed, enough so that the rain would not come through. There were no windows in these houses. One might travel for several days in the battle area and never see a window with glass in it. Occasionally one would see where someone had the old ingenuity of greasing paper and placing it over the windows.

The little town was at the confluence of two small streams. I could give the names of the rivulets, but they are French. These streams furnished water for the soldiers of the town. There were no French inhabitants in this section. They had deserted the village long before, and perhaps many of them were taken under German control. What must have been the feeling of these inhabitants of Parois under the domination of the hated agressor? And what must the poor old man and


woman bear whose only saving were invested in the little homes of the villages which now lay in ruins? I would like to go back to some of these places after the people have reinhabited the country, and have them relate their frightful experiences to me.

A railroad passed thru the place, but it was no longer in use save small portions of it, which was reconstructed after the Huns had been driven back. Railroad guns were to be seen along the tracks. They would be placed in action during the night and during the days they were switched and covered with camouflage, to escape the detection of an enemy plane observer. The camouflage system was wonderful. Deception was so perfect, that it was impossible for an observer to detect these guns unless he came very near the ground. Those big guns would sound like peals of thunder, and the first night or two when firing was at its highest to the north of this little town, when naval guns would play their part at long range.


            While near this town the enemy prisoners would be marched along the road. Of course it was pleasing for us to gaze at those men, who had ben stripped of all their weapons and in come cases of their belongings! Some of these fellows carried the expression of gratification. They would rather run the risk of being placed in prison camps under the hands of allied soldiers than to face the months of guns. Sometimes only tens of our men would be in charge of as many as fifty German or Austrian prisoners. What must have been flitting thru the minds of these captives? The future was before them, but what of their future? They had heard wondrous tales about the torturing spirit of the Americans. The news had been spread brodcast among the enemy that American never took prisoners. The Huns were afraid of the Yankees, and they had a right to be.

The country about here was devastated to such a degree that it would require years before the land could be put into condition for successful


tilling. Trenches—miles of them—were dug in the midst of the fertilest fields. Here and there a shell had drop. What had blown a large hole in the ground. The refuse of an army scattered here and yon. What with the houses torn to the ground and many of their friends killed, must have been the feeling of these poor inhabitants?

On the top of the hill just north of the little town of Parois was a region that could suffer but little worse mutilation. I crossed over this for the sake of curiosity just to see the results of a heavy battle, and to be sure the real picture exceeded the mental picture which I had of such a place. One could only receive a mere impression of the meaning of such scenes from magazine pictures. However when one actually treaded on these grounds and study the different features in the reality a lasing and vivid impression remains in one’s mind.

This hill before the war had been covered with a forest, but now no forest remained—only the stumps of


trees remained and these shattered with bullets and shells. All about the limbs and splinters of the trees lay.

And the shell holes! One could not take more than a few steps before he must doge around a shell hole. This country which was at one time No Man’s Land was litterally torn to pieces with shells. The trenches one time inhabited by the Germans were shattered until one would think that not a man could escape or live there without meeting a violent death. My partner and I as we winded through and between these shell holes wondered when we would ever reach the end of them, but finally we reached a road in the process of construction by our own men and managed to wade mud along the side of this meagre thoroughfare. I remember of taking note of one hole that had been made by a shell which was about 30 ft. in diameter and at least fifteen feet deep. Undoubted there are greater holes to be seen. In fact I later saw one a few minutes after


it was made by a German shell.

The congestion of the roads back of the lines, would make one think at times that he might be in the heart of some great city. Of course the accompaniments of the vehickles and the sounds of battle made such a fantastical state of mind fade quickly. Any how the roads were blocked so at times that one could scarcely get by with a vehickle of any sort. Sometimes continuous streams of trucks could be seen along these roads could be seen for miles in length, and to make matters all the worse much of the transporting of food and ammunition had to be done under cover of night and since no lights were in use many accidents necessarily occurred.

As a general rule the main roads near [?] the rear lines were in good condition. The Pioneer Infantry and the engineers in this community were set at the task of repairing roads, and with all the heavy and continuous traffic it kept these men busy to keep the roads passable. There were also troops of negroes [two words I can’t read] Argonne station repairing the roads.


Sometimes I think that these men who were given the task of keeping the roads in repair were not credited enough for the work they did. Take it from me that for the most part these men were in as much danger as most the men at the front. I have seen these men working day after day under the shell fire of the enemy. If there was a target which an artillery man enjoyed firing at, it was a much travelled road and more especially a cross road.

Oftentimes just as soon as a particular part of a road was repaired, over can a shell which spoiled all the work and maybe as a result three or four less Yanks to continue the labor. The engineers were hard workers and labored under the greatest of dangers, therefore give them credit. Quite a number of them joined the army with the expectation of learning something about engineering and construction work, but were consequently placed in the meagre position of breaking stones along the road, or perhaps they shoveled mud to the side of the roads to keep them dry. Give these boys their just dues!


            There was nothing for the boys to do in and about Parois during their free hours. Tis true that a small group of negroes would frequent the place occasionally and sing some of their favorite songs of Dixie, and perhaps wind up with a dance or some Darky joke. The French soldiers who were stopping over near the town would always take great delight in watching the actions of these representatives of our southland. It mattered not how tired these darkies were there was always some one in the group that would dance and continue to dance until one would think that his heart would stop beating, but still the dancing continued! It seems that a darky can always enjoy himself wherever he is.

Oftentimes along the roads one would see stragglers—always men from the infantry who had lost their company. Perhaps during the night a [unreadable] had been put over and the infantry had gone over the top. Someone was always sure to get lost in such cases. The M.P.’s would do their best in guiding these lost stragglers, but oftentimes these M.P.’s

[end of manuscript]







1918-9-4 – Camp Coëtquidan, France


Camp Coëtquidan  9/4/1918

My dear Olive:

 I was out and heard an excellent program given by some soldiers of our division yesterday evening. The entertainment consisted of songs, music, dancing and dialogue. I could not help but think of the amount of good such a group of men do among a bunch of soldiers who have been working hard all day. Such men can do as much good at that sort of work as they would shouldering a gun. The American civilian cannot appreciate first the value of the ‘Y.” in France. This same troop puts on a minstrel show that this evening and I expect to attend again. I enjoy getting out and seeing things.

Read a book yesterday written by an English officer who was wounded on the front and had taken a trip to N.Y. while on the road to recovery. The book is very good.

How is Johnnie this morning? Hope you and him are having a good time together.

You only had about three months vacation didn’t you? That cut you short just a little bit but I’ll venture you are better contented mentally, busy than idle. Is not that right? Your school should close about the last of April. That lets you our early—just ready for the spring farm work. Suppose the ladies of America will have to learn how to hoe corn if this war continues very long. The[y] will have to respond to the call like their compatriots—their French mademoiselles and madams. You should see how they make the hay fly. They get out on the hay stack, the straw pile or any old place. It is a shame, but I think they not only work so now but it is custom for them to do this even in peace times. I hope the American women will never have to come to that and I hardly think they will.

The old Hindenburg line was broken in one place yesterday—a part that was considered impenetrable but they went thru. I think the Germans are developing an infidelity in the strength of their armies. By the end of next summer, I look for the Germans to be very well driven to their own borders. One thing is sure and that is, that they will be unable to make many more offensives and if they do they will fail. I am well.

Yours affectionately,


1918-9-1 – Camp Coëtquidan, France

Stationery: “With the Colors”

Camp Coëtquidan, 9/1/18. Sunday Morn.

My dearest:

Good morning. This is a fine morning in La France. Just little bit cloudy, but otherwise O.K.

I intend to go to church this morning at 10 o’clock. Just got back from sending the mail over to the post office.

I went to the movies yesterday eve, but they were so poor that I got up and walked down the street. Another corporal and I. We bot some English walnuts and had a dish of ice cream. The ice cram was not like it is in the U.S. but cost 30¢ a dish—a very rare delicacy you see.

We are not allowed to tell anything of our training here and that explains very well why I do not say much about my work.

Received the letter of Aug. 6-8 yesterday and it was a good long one. Your letters are always good and are not monotonous in the least. Anything you say is interesting. Whatever you are do not be too conscientious about overcrowding the mails with your letters. There is no limit to the number of letters a soldier may write and vice versa. Don’t think that what you say is trivial because it is surely not.

Glad you are getting fitted in clothes for the coming winter. You have certainly been very economical this summer in your purchases. Maybe just a little bit too much so.

And you made a trade in wedding gifts? Good for you. I had almost forgotten what we got.

Too bad about John, but perhaps he will recover some time. I hope so.

This French money is like tobacco coupons. They have a bill for 17.8 cents which they call the franc. Yes they have one even for one half a franc or 50 centimes. The amount of paper does not count for money.

It is good of mother to do so much for us. That will be quite a help in the end as you well know. I told you about the allotment in a previous letter.

 I suppose you enjoyed yourself while at A. A.’s in the country, did you? Wish I could have been along. I would have had a good time too maybe.

The shower that you spoke of on your trip was certainly a bad one.

I am glad that they finally sent me an insurance policy, because now you have something to show for what money I am depositing for insurance.

I think that I have answered your letter of the 6-8 pretty thoroughly. I will quit now and go to church.

With love,


1918-8-29 – Camp Coëtquidan, France

“With the Colors” stationery

Camp Coëtquidan, 1918/8/29

My Dear Olive:

This is nearing the finis of summer. Not be long ‘til Sept. day will be here. and oh! that winter ahead! What of it? New Monday you will begin your school and today you will attend the institute. Suppose that you will hear nothing but war! war! war! in those institute speeches. Don’t you get tired hearing nothing but war talk? Those magazines are full up with war material and you certainly like to discover an article covering some old topic. I read quite a bit. Am reading now during my spare moments a book on “The Soul of the Russian Revolution”—which gives me a good idea of Russ conditions previous to the war. The reading is interesting, good writer.

Ha! we did not get any mail again today, but we ever keep an anxious eye on the P.O.—but none ever comes. Just wait until it comes and we will be a very happy bunch. I am particularly anxious to have a letter from you. Should have some from the home folks too.

I attended a concert last night, given by a Madamoiselle from Paris, a Miss from San Antonio, Tex. and a gent from Rochester New York. Now that sounds Americanized does it not? The entertainment was good. We sang some of the American popular songs and it made us all feel much better. If anyone wonders whether the Y is doing any good here just tell them that the American soldier would be lost and some would be ruined without it. The Y should be supported to the limit. I am going to the bath house soon to take a shower. Cold water but better than nothing. So long until to-morrow.

Affectionately, Clyde

note at bottom of this page:

It was over a month between my letters. From July 26 to Aug 29 he had no mail from me.

1918-8-24 – Camp Coëtquidan, France

Stationery: “On Active Service”

Camp Coëtquidan, 8/24/1918

My dearest Olive:

You are still sleeping and I have been up and about for several hours.—but you will be working while I am ‘appeasing somnus’ this evening. Tomorrow is my birthday and I will celebrate by remaining in Camp. They allowed passes to Rennes last Sunday but now they aloow us only four hours out of camp, and that will permit us to go only a short distance. So for the most part the boys will remain at home. We may have a chance to go later. I should have gone last Sunday—but I am not particularly anxious about it anyway.

The regiment is still in training on the range. I want to go out there some time and watch them fire. I saw them fire while at Camp Sherman, and it was real interesting for a time. I imagine that we can make it very interesting for the Huns to a little later on.

They have brot some wounded soldiers to this hospital recently. I was up and talked to some of them yesterday evening. It seems to be very interesting to them. They hardly think that the war will be over for some time. The more one learns about it, the longer one thinks it may last.—but it must end sometime and maybe sooner than we think.

It is very cloudy this morning and I hope it will rain. The dust is 2 in. thick in some places.

Olive I think that I am going to pack quite a bit of my personal stuff soon send it home, since I will not be permitted to take very much stuff along with me to the front. I have some stuff that I do not wish to lose. The government, so far has been very good in issuing us all the clothes that we want. I hope that it did not make you feel bad because I told you not to send me anything. I know that you enjoy doing such things for me.—but I will appreciate anything of the sort when I return. I have at least eight or nine prs. of socks now. I can’t take more than two or three prs. with me.

Well, we are looking strong for some mail this morning. Our mail is delayed somewhere.—missing or something.

Read a good article in Mumsey’s on “Our New Washington,” you should read that to get an idea of Washingtonian Conditions.

Good luck and success


C. M. Cummins