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CAMION LETTERS

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MEN IN THE AMERICAN FIELD SERVICE

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CAMION LETTERS

FROM

MEN IN THE AMERICAN FIELD SERVICE

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2008 with funding from

IVIicrosoft Corporation

http://www.archive.org/details/camionlettersfroOOsamp

CAMION LETTERS

FROM AMERICAN COLLEGE MEN
VOLUNTEER DRIVERS

OF THE

AMERICAN FIELD SERVICE
IN FRANCE, 1917

Duty, and the bit more which counted . , ,

NEW YORK

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

.1918

COPTSIGBT, I918
BY

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY

Published January, 1918

THI OUINH • KOIN CO. fMM

RAHWAT, N. t.

INTRODUCTION

This is a volume of letters written by young
Americans who as members of the American
Field Service volunteered to drive the heavy
transport trucks, or camions, of the French Army.
Most of the letters are from the Cornell men
who formed the larger part of the first section
of drivers assigned to the transport work. The
straightforward letters are self-explanatory, but
it is in place to introduce them by a few words
telling of the way the Service engaged in the
transport of war materials.

The record of the American ambulances in
France is well known. Friends of France, Am-
bulance No. 10, and the Diary of Section VIII
have given to English-speaking readers the story
of young American volunteers in France doing
their duty to the cause they had voluntarily
chosen and doing it so well as to win for them
citation after citation in the French orders of
the day, and the Croix de Guerre that often ac-
companied the citation. More than one hundred

V

vi Camion Letters

young American collegians wear this simple cross,
which comes to no recreant. That these young
men were representative of the Service is proved
by the fact that French Generals vied among
themselves to have the American anibulanciers
attached to their divisions. It is a record of
which the Service is proud and of which America
may well be proud.

In May, 191 7, the Paris authorities of the
American Ambulance Field Service in France
were requested by the French Government to take
over as much as was feasible of the transport
work of one of the French Armies. In the French
forces there are 80,000 motor vehicles driven, as
far as France can make it possible, by men whose
age or physical condition unfits them for active
service at the front. To release these men meant
to replace them with American volunteers and to
send back one by one to their farms or to Govern-
mental offices veteran Frenchmen whose services
were needed elsewhere than on the trucks. The
request, highly honoring to the Service, came
partly as the result of the great need of the French
for additional camionneurs, or drivers of heavy
trucks, and partly because a temporary shortage

Introduction vii

of ambulances threatened to leave in idleness some
of the young American volunteers just arriving in
Paris.

The Service gladly took on the new work and
made a prompt appeal to the men on hand. Al-
though they had come over to drive ambulances,
most of them appreciated the new need and volun-
teered for the transport work. A training camp
was at once established, and after a brief but
adequate period of drill in handling the heavy
vehicles on difficult roads, the first transport sec-
tion set out for the front, carrying the first Ameri-
can flag authorized to be borne in this war. As
it happened, most of the forty men in the section
were from Cornell, and at the head was a Cornell
man, Edward Tinkham, who had already won his
Cross of War in ambulance work by ** his untiring
devotion under the violent fire of the enemy."
Conformably to its new function the Service
changed its name to The American Field Service
and sent out a call for volunteers in this country.

Naturally a transfer of so much consequence
could not be accomplished without some diffi-
culties. On the part of the volunteers it involved
a change of purpose not to be lightly under-

viii Camion Letters

taken. Men who had gone over animated by zeal
to perform humane services felt that to drive
munition trucks was a departure from their
original purpose. Some solved the problem in a
plain, soldierly spirit, saying that what France
wanted was clearly the thing for them to do.
Others held strongly to their original idea.
Moreover, although prompt information of the
new arrangements was sent to all officers recruit-
ing for the Service, there was obvious difficulty
in getting to all the oncoming volunteers an ex-
plicit understanding of the new situation. A fur-
ther question arose in respect of those men whose
expenses had been contributed in whole or in part
during the campaign for the support of the am-
bulance service. Some of these men obtained
from the contributors permission to transfer,
some went on with the ambulance work, and
some, accepting war conditions as the supreme
law, transferred to the new branch, assuming that
their action would be approved at home, as it
almost invariably was.

On this side of the water a great deal of con-
fusion arose through misunderstandings, slowly
to be cleared up by incessant correspondence. In

Introduction ix

general there was difficulty in realizing that the
Service had no control over the necessities of war,
and that it was trying to meet an emergency prac-
tically. To have answered all the incoming
questions fully and personally would have meant
a practical abandonment of the work of the Serv-
ice in its offices and a commandeering of all the
office staffs for typewriting. Printed material
was copiously used, however, and gradually the
situation cleared up.

Meantime a new trouble appeared. Of late the
very word ambulance had been a thing to con-
jure with. The desire to relieve the sufferings
of the wounded had a splendid emotional quality,
and now at the very time when ambulance deliv-
ery was being held up in France, American gifts
for ambulances poured in. It was a hard, un-
gracious task to be compelled to decline or post-
pone the acceptance of the one thing that had
been the very heart of the Service. It was a
still harder task to persuade many of the generous
donors that their gifts were urgently needed to
develop the new branch of the Service. There is
at first thought little spiritual appeal in a trans-
port truck, little call for skill and initiative on

Camion Letters

the part of its driver. Yet the reverse is the
case. The trucks are the backbone of the army
and the driver pilots them over shell-swept roads
with all the incident risks of motor troubles. Had
motor car owners stopped to reflect upon what
their feelings would be if instead of changing their
tires or inspecting their spark plugs on a macad-
amized American road, they could see shells
bursting near them on a devastated highway of
France, they would never ask, as some did, the
cool question about truck driving in France, " Is
this the work for a patriotic American youth with
red blood in his veins? "

It would not be fair, however, to give the im-
pression that taking over the transport work
nullified the Service's appeal for funds. The
friends of the Service maintained their firm faith
that instead of doing something alien to its origi-
nal purpose the Service was only reaching out
and making itself even more useful to France.
Indeed, in some quarters a desire to contribute
first arose with the knowledge that our transport
men were bearing our flag as combatants and not
using the protection of the Geneva Red Cross.

But still the fact remained, and remains, that

Introduction Xi

the transport service makes far less an appeal to
the heart than to the brain, and that the heart
has to be touched before the purse strings loosen.

Yet this transport work of the army is an abso-
lutely indispensable part of the force that makes
for victory. The camions carry from the depots
to the front supplies for trench-making, road-
repairing, and bridge-building. They carry equip-
ment for the divisions, and food for the men.
They carry the troops themselves when reserves
have to be rushed to a point of attack. And
they carry the ammunition on which depends the
barrage fire and the great offensives. " An army,"
said Napoleon, " travels on its belly." This vivid
statement of the imperative value of the commis-
sary needs now to be supplemented and enlarged
— even without the imperial imagery — to include
the transportation of all that a modern army
requires.

The camionneurs who carry on the transport
work realize the responsibility of their task, and
they meet its dangers as true soldiers. The
job is a man's job, and calls for courage as well
as skill. It calls for initiative in the emergencies
which constantly occur. It is no humdrum task of

xii Camion Letters

driving heavy trucks in a slow procession along a
quiet road. There is nothing humdrum in driving
under artillery fire. It is, as the men at the
steering-wheels know, an imperative duty and a
high privilege, and there is no good quality a
man possesses which does not find free play in
the daily task.

The men in the transport branch of the Service
have of course written many letters home, and
some of these letters have been passed over by
their recipients to the American headquarters.
The letters were written without thought of pub-
lication, but it has seemed proper to make out
of them a small volume whose general purpose
is to make known the character and activities
of the transport service. The letters speak for
themselves, — frank, boyish recitals of daily
routine and of occasional exciting experience.
Between the lines of the letters may be clearly
read a heartening thing, — the growth of high-
spirited natures out of boyhood to a man's
stature.

Mabtin W. Sampson
Cornell University

CAMION LETTERS

CAMION LETTERS

*A Bord le " Chicago " 25th April, ipi^.

We are safe at last in the mouth of the harbor
of the Garonne. Bordeaux is about forty miles
up the river. We got here at ten this morning,
and have been anchored ever since, waiting for
the high tide. We hope to arrive at Bordeaux at
8 p. m., and at Paris some time tomorrow.

It is a great relief to be here at last, with land
nearby. Last night was a pretty anxious time.
No smoking was allowed on deck after dark, and
all lights were put out early. We were rather
lucky to get here safely, for this morning one
of the French officers told us that two ships near
us had been sunk, one by a mine, he thought, the
other by a submarine. There are lots of other
ships in the harbor, but none as big as ours. Most
of the ships are waiting to go through to the
Mediterranean, as there is a canal right across
the country.

3

Camion Letters

The red tape has started again. This morning
we had to have our passports examined again by
some men who came on board, and we are now
waiting for customs officers to come and inspect
our bags. . . .

The inspectors have passed safely, and we are
on our way up the river. Flat, green meadows
and towns on one side, and very low white cliffs on
the other. The spring seems to be considerably
ahead of the American spring. We can see
the towns and the people very plainly. At pres-
ent we are stuck in the mud, and do not seem to
be able to get off. The tide is coming in, how-
ever, so we will be floating again shortly, I hope.

By the way, one of the ships sunk was a
Swedish steamer, two hours ahead of us. When
we got the news by the wireless the Captain
stopped the ship and lay quiet for an hour, then
went on. It is lucky now that we could not go
any faster, or we might have met the submarine
instead. We are going to spend the night in
Bordeaux, and go on to Paris tomorrow.

Camion Letters

II.

Paris, 'April 2p, igiy.

We are now staying at the house at 21 rue
Raynouard. It is a very old stone building on a
little street in Passy, in the western part of the
city. The house is built right on the street, but
back of it the grounds run down almost a quar-
ter of a mile, as far as a road on the bank of the
Seine, so we have a beautiful view of the river.
All the completed ambulances are kept in these
grounds. Of course the grounds are not kept
up carefully, but they are very pretty neverthe-
less. They feed us here very well — much better
than at college. There is more than enough of
every kind of food except sugar and butter, and
we can use very little of that. When you buy
food here, it does not cost any more than in the
United States, and some things are less.

Yesterday I went down town to buy some
things such as duffle bag, uniform, and equipment,
and stopped in the Madeleine. This afternoon
I am going to see Notre Dame. We are in a

Camion Letters

very convenient location for sight seeing, being
only a couple of blocks from the Metro. The
Eiffel Tower is less than a mile off, and there are
a lot of municipal buildings near it. However,
no one is allowed to go near it, so I have only
seen it from a distance.

I am getting so that I can understand French
a little better, but that is not very well. How-
ever, I do not have any trouble getting around,
or getting what I want to eat or buy.

I do not know when we will leave for the front,
but it will not be for a couple of weeks. I must
stop, as I want this letter to catch the " Chicago "
mail.

ni

May 10, ipi/.
Lots of things have happened since I wrote
last. I am writing this from a little encampment
of three tents on the outskirts of a little French
village, near enough the front to hear the boom
of the guns now and then. Last Saturday (May
5th) the head of the Ambulance Service, Dr.

Camion Letters

Andrew, got the Cornell men together and told
us the French needed men to drive 5-ton Fierce-
Arrow trucks (they call them camions), and
wanted us to be the first section.

The work consists of taking supplies to the
front where they are most needed, the section not
being assigned to any permanent sector, but being
used as a flying squadron to go where the need
is greatest. They gave us overnight to think it
over, and the next morning forty-four of us
volunteered for the Service. It was a lightning
decision, but I think I chose right. In the first
place, our ambulances would not have been ready
for a long time, and we would have had to waste
most of the time waiting. In the second place,
this Service is no more dangerous than the am-
bulance, and it is what the French want us to do
at present — they say they are up against it for
truck drivers, and that is why their gains have
not been greater.

Personally, I would rather drive a Ford than
a truck, but I think it's up to us to go where we
can help most, and it would be very hard to
refuse our services when the French say they
need us. So here I am.

8 Camion Letters

We have very good food, and plenty of it. The
fact is, I have never had such luxuries in camp-
ing before. There is a little brook near the
camp, and we have fixed a trough for a shower,
so we can take a bath every little while. My
French is improving all the time. It is hard to
find time to study it, but of course we have to
speak it quite often, although not as much as I
would have expected. I can carry on a simple
conversation unless the Frenchman gets excited,
and then I lose track of what he is saying and
can't understand a thing.

Our training is just about over now. We start
in on our regular transport work early next week.
I don't know where we are going, and couldn't
tell if I did. I can't even tell where our present
camp is. Our address now is simply " T.M. 2^,
Par B.C.M., Paris " but that changes soon. You
see we are a new organization, and I do not know
how they will number us.

Every cloudy night we hear the big guns very
clearly, and sometimes see the "star shells.'*
Aeroplanes buzz around all the time.

Camion Letters

IV

May i8j igiy.

You have probably heard from a letter I wrote
the family that I am not in the Ambulance Serv-
ice any more. A new organization has been
formed — The American Transport Service — the
official name is not certain yet. We drive 5-ton,
Pierce-Arrow trucks — the best in the world, the
French say — with " supplies " for the French
Armies. We are shifted from one army to an-
other as we are needed, which means that we are
always at the point of the greatest activity. We
go as near, often nearer, the front line trenches
than the ambulances, have harder work, and do
at least as much good. At any rate, it was what
the French wanted us to do, and I think it was
up to us to do it, unless there were individual
reasons against it. Almost all the Cornell boys
are with us, all but about eight of the thirty-
eight.

At present we are having a wonderful life in
camp here. An ideal location, good tents, straw
to sleep on, good food and lots of it, and a little

lO Camion Letters

brook near by to wash in. The only drawback
is that we cannot make any fires, the wood is so
scarce, and there may be other reasons. We have
been having some rainy weather, and things get
pretty damp. However, every one seems to be
keeping well, and I never felt better in my life.

The people are always very much interested
when they hear we are Americans. They ask
us all sorts of questions — if we are Roosevelt's
army was one. I can carry on a very simple,
slow conversation, but when they talk fast I am
lost. I've learned a lot talking with the truck
drivers that went with us to show us how the
trucks went. One man had been a diamond cut-
ter for Tiffany before the war, and most of the
others were intelligent.

On some of our practice driving trips we got to
the old lines where the French and Germans
faced each other for two years. In one place
there had been a village, but no one would have
known it. The ground was all dug up with
shell holes, and trenches, and covered with wire
entanglements. We went through the German
positions, and saw their underground houses,
electric bells, and stoves and beds, just like a hotel.

Camion Letters 1 1

On another trip we went to Pierrefonds, and had
an hour to spend going through the castle. It
was completely restored a few years ago, and is a
great sight — all thick walls, and towers and a
little stone staircase. Most of the rooms had sol-
diers quartered in them, and straw on the floor
to sleep on. There are soldiers everywhere.
Every little village is crowded with troops just
coming from the trenches for a rest, or going to
the front.

Every night we can hear the big guns very
plainly, especially when it is cloudy, and some-
times we see strings of " star shells."

It is almost time for driving. I must stop.

y.

May i8, 191 7.
Since my last letter I have been busy learning
about 5-ton Pierce trucks, and I now know quite
a lot about one. Every day we have driving
lessons lasting several hours, and sometimes we go
to very interesting places. The other day we

12 Camion Letters

went to a place where the Germans and French
had faced each other for two years. They
showed us where a village had been, but it
looked exactly like the country round — shell holes
every couple of yards, trenches everywhere, and
also wire entanglements. We had to be very
careful where we stepped, because there were
lots of unexploded shells and hand grenades lying
around, which go off very easily. The Germans
had been living in dug-outs in a hillside; regular
rooms with tin ceilings, stoves, electric bells, and
everything.

Day before yesterday we started at 2 p.m. and
went to Pierrefonds, and they gave us an hour
to go through the castle. It certainly is a won-
derful place. We ate our food outside the town,
and waited till dark to get practice in night driv-
ing without lights. It was a black, cloudy night,
and we found it pretty hard to keep the road and
our place in the convoy (we had twelve cars).
It had been raining, and some of the cars got
stuck in the mud at the side of the road, and we
had a hard time pulling them out. Then another
car ran into us from behind and smashed its radi-
ator. It was not the driver's fault, though, be-

Camion Letters 13

cause you could not see a car three feet off. We
had to tow them in, and finally arrived at camp at
4 a. m., a little tired. They don't work us like
that all the time, though everybody has kept well
so far. I never felt better in my life, and I think
I am putting on a good deal of weight,

Monday we had a big banquet. Ambassador
Sharp and lots of high French officials were there
and made us speeches.

I spent Tuesday in packing up, and yesterday
we entrained with great ceremony and came
towards here as far as the trains ran, and then
in trucks. We are somewhere near Soissons.
The French treat us like princes. They give us
the glad hand every chance they get, and tell
us how glad they are we're here. The food is
splendid. Last night at the soldiers' mess we
each had more soup out of a big iron pot than
an ordinary family of eight will eat, half a loaf of
bread that must have weighed three or four
pounds, some meat, tea, jam, and vin rouge.
The food is even better than at rue Raynouard.
We start work on the camions this afternoon.

14 Camion Letters

VI

June II, i^iy.

I RECEIVED your letters a few days ago, and
was mighty glad to hear all the news from Amer-
ica. I'm glad things are moving fast.

We have been having some exciting times
lately. Last week we were on the go most of the
time with capacity loads of 75's shells or air
bombs or hand grenades, the most dangerous of
all to handle, as one little pin sets them off.

We have been on roads when they were being
shelled several times. When a shell explodes at a
distance it looks at first exactly like a tall, black
maple tree, then it becomes just a mess of smoke
and dust. Most of the roads are in pretty good
condition, as they are lined with piles of gravel,
and there are men who fill up the shell holes im-
mediately. The other day we were going along
when a shell destroyed a bridge a little ahead of
us, and we had to back up quite a way to take
another road. I had been the first car, so of
course I was the last when we backed. Our
camions back slowly any time, and then they

Camion Letters 15

hardly seemed to move, and the worst of it was
to see a Frenchman stick his head out of a trench
every now and then to see what was going on,
and then duck down again. Believe me, I wanted
to join them.

We had a great treat yesterday. The Captain
let us take a camion and go to a creek a few
miles off for a swim. It was an ideal place, and
we swam and lay around in the sun all afternoon.
It has been hot ever since we got here, and the
dust on the roads often makes it as dark as night,
except that it is white. Of course we wear gog-
gles, so it does not get in our eyes, but there is a
crust over every part of us when we get back.
The work is not so very hard, especially as there
are two men on a camion to take turns driving.

I am Tent Police today, and must go to work.

VII

June 12, 191 7.
I HAVE just returned from a short morning
run. They are giving us a good rest after last
week, when we had a long series of twelve to

1 6 Camion Letters

eighteen hour trips with only a few hours between.
We had some experiences that were a little too
exciting to be pleasant.

One day we were loaded with five tons of trench
bombs and were getting along towards the front
when the Germans started shelling the road we
were on. I guess they saw us from one of their
" Sausages " (observation balloons). I was driv-
ing the first car. Several shells fell about three
hundred yards from us, and then they dropped one
by the road about seventy yards ahead, about ten
feet from a man working on the road. As we
went by he was lying half on his face, with his
head and shoulders half blown off, sort of quiver-
ing, although of course he was dead. We had
just passed him, through a little stream of blood,
when the section leader came along in his car with
orders to back up, as a bridge ahead of us was
destroyed.

As we started backing, another shell landed
about twenty yards behind us, between us and the
next camion (a hundred yards). A shell looks
very pretty a little way off, it looks like a big
tree, but when it gets closer than a hundred
yards it looks wicked, and sounds so, too, and five

Camion Letters 17

tons of explosives between it and you does not
make it any pleasanter. Well, we backed up
what seemed a long way and it took a long time,
and had to wait for all the others to get on the
other road. It was funny to look down along the
road and see all the Frenchmen squatting in their
trenches, sticking their heads out every now and
then to see what was going on, but it about dou-
bled the effect of the shells on us.

There was a big ditch just at the beginning
of the small road, and as we were pulling through
it the engine stopped, although we were in low.
It seems that the jarring had shaken a spark plug
wire off. Joe Gray, the other man on my camion,
jumped out and cranked the engine as it had
never been cranked before. He almost twirled the
handle off. I guess cars that haven't been used
for years would have started from the spinning
he gave it. He said afterwards that he could
have cranked the car all the way home if he had
had to. Anyway, the engine went and we pulled
out all right, and went along hitting on only three
cylinders till we found a sheltered place to stop
in and fix it up. We had to come back empty
over the same road and it was nervous work

1 8 Camion Letters

going there, but we were not shelled again that
time.

We kick sometimes against having to wear our
steel helmets, but they feel just about right. at
times like that, although I don't believe they
would do much good, if any, as a shell fragment
goes through boiler plate like water through a
sieve, and our helmets are pretty thin. We only
had a very few shells whistle that day, as the ex-
plosion came so soon after they had passed. The
nearest one was probably only a few feet over our
heads, and as it passed we felt the concussion of
the air, or something else, perhaps, that felt like
a light electric shock.

Several times a day we can see a lot of little
puffs of smoke in the sky where airplanes are
being fired on by one side or another. Sometimes
we see air battles, where the airplanes go past
each other several times, and try to get over or
under the enemy, and sail all around each other.
Some of the fellows saw an airplane come down a
few days ago, but I haven't seen that yet.

Camion Letters 19

VIII

June 24, 19 1 7.

This letter must be short, as I " roll " in a few
minutes, but I will write again as soon as I get a
little time. I have lots of your letters — I'll tell
you how many next time I write, as I haven't
time to count them now. I hope all the foolish-
ness that has appeared in the papers about this
Service has not started you worrying. I don't
know what makes them print such things, or
where they get all their ideas from, about " As
the 30 Cornellians appeared in the trenches, wav-
ing the Stars and Stripes, the veteran soldiers
gave a cheer." We don't go within a mile of the
first line trenches, and the only danger is from
stray shells, and the Germans are not wasting
many these days. There has been only one man
killed in all the sectors here since we came, and he
was the last one of forty men going into a dug-
out. There isn't as much danger as there is in
New York City.

I think it's fine that you are growing so many
things to eat. It certainly will help. Personally,

20 Camion Letters

I haven't seen any board shortage. We have all
the food, splendidly cooked, we can eat, and in
this camp good water to drink, which is much
better than the miserable " pinard " they give us.
It is a kind of red wine — I think a kind of
claret — worse than anything you can buy in the
U. S. At least that is what I gather from our
connoisseurs.

This camp is very nice. Besides plenty of good
water, we have long wooden barracks to sleep in,
which we have made water-tight with rolls of tar
paper. It's near a little town where we go some-
times, and where we can buy fresh bread, which is
a great treat after the army bread, which is
baked somewhere in the south of France, and
would make good, solid, car-wheels by the time
we get it. We never see any butter, but there is
lots of " confiture " to eat on it.

By the way, did you get some photos of the
" Chicago " I sent you some time ago? I would
like to know, because there is a rumor that photos
cannot be sent through the mails, and so I have not
sent any more. If you got them safely, I have
lots I can send. I print and develop my own pic-
tures. Bought an outfit in Paris 50-50 with an-

Camion Letters 21

other fellow, and we have been doing a rushing
business whenever we have a little time off.
There has been no excitement for a long time —
haven't even heard an arrivee shell for a long
time, but we hear plenty of " departs," as there
are now several batteries not far from camp.

I did not have time to finish this letter last
evening before " rolling," so I am finishing it this
morning (June 25). The trip was not as long as
we expected it would be, as the place we were
going to was destroyed before we got there, so we
were saved about two miles, which means some-
thing to us. We do all our driving without lights,
but somehow it never seems to get dark. There
has seldom been a night when the road was not
perfectly plain before us, and usually the traffic
is easily seen. At any rate the other traffic on
the road does not endanger us, as a steam roller
or a big gun are about the only things on the road
heavier than we are. It's mighty interesting
work, too, creeping along the roads with batteries
of big guns and little soixante-quinzcs flashing
every few minutes near us, and seeing the shrap-
nel burst with a dull red flash over the trenches,
and, near the front, seeing the sky and ground lit

22 Camion Letters

^— ■— — — — »^— »— ^-^ — — ■^■^—j — — —

up for miles and miles around by the long strings
of star shells and rockets sent up by both the
French and the Germans. Sometimes there are
dozens of searchlights sweeping over the sky
when an airplane motor is heard, and when they
find it, if they do, you can hear the hammering
of machine guns shooting at it — it sounds ex-
actly like the compressed air riveting on a steel
building.

I have got to go and change a tire on my car
v^^hich was torn last night. Will write again
soon.

By the way, will you send me a mouth-organ !
Just an ordinary one. I have tried to buy one
here, but they don't have them. Also, if it isn't
too much trouble, I would like a Sunday paper
sent me now and then.

IX^

July 2, 19 17.
At last the weather and transport service are
giving me time to write again. About a week
ago I got a most dee-licious box of nut fudge

Camion Letters 23

you sent me. Thank you ever so much for it — r
the first real candy we have had since April 14.
Well, when I got up this morning some of the
boys came and told me there were a couple of
packages for me, and went with me to help
open them, and we found it was, or they were,
two big boxes of fudge, and a box of guava
jelly, for which I and the boys thank you again
very gratefully. It's the only good American
candy that's been in camp, and it certainly is a
treat.

Life has not been at all exciting lately. We
seldom get sent to dangerous places in the day-
time— not because they don't want us to get shot,
but the camions have some value, and usually we
would have to unload them near some General's
domicile, and that might get hit instead of us.
So, as a general rule, we load up in the afternoon
and then go and wait behind some hill or in some
wood where the Boche sausages can't see us, until
dark, and then go to the depot and unload. It
rained steadily for the last few nights, and so has
been very dark. I don't know why we haven't
been stuck in the mud, — most of the cars have, —
but we have had the luck to escape that, although

24' Camion Letters

I guess we've been shelled more than any other of
our cars.

I have come to the conclusion that in this work
I am not running any more danger than I am in
going to college — perhaps not as much. All the
shells the Germans shoot at the roads to destroy
them are, of course, high explosive shells, and I
have lost all respect for them. They make a big
noise, and a big hole in the ground, and a high
column of dirt, but they won't kill you unless you
are right next to one. Of course, the shrapnel
shells are pretty mean — they explode in the air
and scatter, but they are no good for destroying
roads and bridges, and so we see very few of them.
We were in a village yesterday that the Germans
had occupied for two and a half years, and only
left about April 15th. When they left they blew
up all the houses and cut down all the fruit trees
they had time to, and cut a ring of bark off around
the trunks of the others. Sometimes they bored
a hole in a tree to put some powder in, and blew
it up. The country is a wreck now, and it will
be a desert next year, as far as trees go.

A few days ago we saw an exciting air battle
between one of our fellows in the Lafayette

Camion Letters 25

Esquadrille and seven Bodies. We were playing
a game of baseball after supper when we saw six
" spads " (French) fly over us. One was hav-
ing engine trouble, and had to drop behind the
others. A little later we saw a whole swarm of
planes in the distance, and heard their machine-
guns, and saw one machine come down. The
day after one of the fellows went over to a big
hospital near us, and talked with the fellow,
named Hall, who had been brought down. He
said he had dropped way behind his party, and had
then mistaken the seven German planes for theirs.
Of course, when he got near them they attacked
him, and he was shot through the arm and the
lung. He lost consciousness and fell, but came
to about a hundred feet above the ground, in
time to turn his machine. Then he fainted again,
and when he came to he was in the hospital.
Sounds like a fairy story, doesn't it? Next day
all the papers said he had attacked the seven
Germans.

I can't tell if I have received all your letters,
but I have received several very interesting ones.
It's too bad Bill couldn't get into the army. He
must be awfully disappointed. I wonder if I could

26 Camion Letters

pass the examination — my eyes are not very good.
Lots of the older men in this Service are here
because they are not able to join the army, and
want to do something.

X

July 14, 1917.

The maple sugar you sent me came safely last
night, and it was the greatest treat I have had
for weeks and weeks. It was fresh and in fine
condition. I gave some to some of my poilu
friends, and they didn't seem to know exactly
what to make of it. The only thing they would
say was that it was very sweet. I don't have
to pay duty on anything I get — even tobacco
seems to come through free.

July loth I got your letter written June 21st.
We were making a night trip, and were waiting
to be unloaded when the staff car brought out the
mail to us. I couldn't see very well by the star
shells, so I took a lamp off the car and went down
into a nearby dug-out. It was the first time the
lamp had ever been lit, but it burned all right and

Camion Letters Tj

I had just time to read my letters before we had
orders to go on.

Everything is going on as usual. Nobody in
the section has been hurt or has been sick for
more than a couple of days at a time. The only
trouble is that there does not seem to be nearly
enough work for us to do.

Our address has changed again — the latest is
at the head of this letter, but any of the former
ones will reach us all right. I am afraid that

one of the boxes of fudge that sent has been

lost — I have received three in all. Along with
your maple sugar I got a big box of chocolate
from . At present, I have probably the big-
gest reputation for packages in camp. As soon as
one comes in for me, fellows come from both
barracks to tell me about it and help me carry
them up to my bunk.

The hot weather seems to be over, and it has
been very cold and rainy for the last few days.
I like it better than the hot weather, because I
have a rubber shirt and a sheepskin coat, and can
keep perfectly warm and dry.

I have a lot of cleaning and greasing to do to
my car, so I must stop.

28 Camion Letters

XI

July 22, 19 17.

I AM writing on a desk I have just made out of
a shell-box, which I saved from a load of
" empties " we were carrying back from the
front. They are very useful to keep things in,
because they are very well made, with big iron
hinges. Most of the " 75 " cases have " U. S. 3 "
on them — meaning United States 3-inch, so I
guess we must be sending over lots of the shells
we use in our 3-inch guns.

There is not anything new about the work to
say. We still gti splendid food and not too much
work to do. The section has been very quiet
lately, and I've almost forgotten what a shell
sounds like. The only excitement has been two
or three air raids which the Germans have made
on this district. A few nights ago we were
waked up by an explosion and a heavy shock that
felt like an earthquake, then there was another
nearer explosion, and another nearer still. We
were pretty well scared then, and were expecting
the next one on top of us, but there were no
more.

Camion Letters 29

Last Sunday some fellows and I went to
Church at a beautiful thirteenth century cathedral
on top of a little hill. There was an architect
with us and he told us that originally the cathe-
dral had been about three times as big as it is
now, with a big spire in the middle, but, even in its
present condition, it is very impressive. The in-
side is all white-washed stone, with few decora-
tions, and the outside walls are covered with
grass and small shrubs, wherever they can find a
crevice to grow in. The congregation was made
up of women and children mostly — all dressed up
in their Sunday clothes, and some wounded
soldiers.

I am sending some photos in this letter, and I
hope they get through. One is of the celebration
we had the 4th of July. I told about it in an-
other letter. You can see the car sliding down
the narrow gauge track. The trick is to stick the
pole through a hole in a board nailed below the
pail of water. If you don't do it, the pail tips
over on you, as in the picture. The picture of the
French village is very true to life — just big piles
of stones on both sides of the road, with a few
walls standing. There are lots of dug-outs that

30 Camion Letters

you can't see underneath these ruins. The pic-
ture of the convoy was taken when we stopped
once along the road. My car is not in it, but all
the cars are almost the same. The one of the
shell exploding in the distance was taken a
long time ago, also in a " village." You can
see the barbed wire chevaux de frises near the
camera.

Arrangements about our " permissions " have

changed again. I cannot visit , because we

are not allowed to leave France, I think I will
take a trip to the Swiss border — near Lake
Geneva. They say living there is very cheap, and
transportation is free, so it is a good chance to see
the Alps and to compare Lake Geneva and Lake
George for myself. By the time you get this
letter I will probably be back working again, as
my permission begins August 2nd. I am rather
disappointed at not being able to go to London,
but this certainly is a wonderful opportunity to
see some beautiful places without spending much
money.

Another box of fudge came night before last.
It had been packed in moth balls in the Post
Office, and it was pretty strong till I had aired it

Camion Letters 31

for a couple of days, then it tasted natural and
very good.

The supper gong is ringing, so I must stop.

XII

-?/ rue Raynouard, Paris, May 6, 1Q17.

The present prospect is that I will soon leave
Paris, and as it may not be so easy to write let-
ters later on, I want to outline the trend of events
up to now.

It isn't at all interesting to read, although we
enjoyed it immensely. After the incident with
the submarine we landed at Bordeaux, where we
spent the day. Rode to Paris in a funny train by
night. We've been in Paris for a few days now
and have spent the time taking care of military
and other red tape, taking French lessons and
Ford lessons and seeing Paris, which last is no
small nor unpleasant job. This certainly is a
regular city.

Now comes an explanation which I shall not
be able to make as clear as I would wish.

In the last big battle the French experienced

32 Camion Letters

very great difficulty in transporting munitions.
There was a deficit of men to drive the trucks, so
serious that the army staff has requested that the
American Field Ambulance Service convert men
from ambulance to heavy transport drivers. They
say that they need the latter much more at the
present time.

The officials have asked that a unit of sixty
men be organized at once. Andrew, head of our
Field Ambulance Service in France, has put the
subject before the Cornell men now in Paris, ask-
ing that they form the nucleus of the first Ameri-
can unit of this sort.

Tinkham, who raised the first Cornell ambu-
lance unit, is going to convert the unit for which
he worked so hard into this new transport service.
Nearly every Cornell man is going into it. You
can see that I'm confronted with questions. In
spite of the fact that our standing as Americans
and American Ambulance Field Service men re-
mains exactly the same, there is a change in the
nature of the Service. France asks us to enter
the new Service. It promises harder work and
less excitement, farther from the front. It would
be a great relief to me if I could personally explain

Camion Letters 33

the proposed change to the men who gave me
money to come over here.

But I must use my own judgment. I beheve
that you and the other Cornell men at home would
endorse my action in getting into the transport
service. I place great reliance on Tinkham's
judgment. . . .

This is the second chapter of this letter, due to
the fact that I've been awaiting events. They
have occurred and the events of the near future
are clear enough to proceed. After the best of
my judgment and that of those whom I feel are
best fitted to give advice, I have decided to enter
the new transport section. We will be the first
armed Americans to enter the " Great War " with
the exception of some aviators. Tomorrow
morning at 9,30 we leave Paris for barracks not a
great many miles from Paris. There we will
remain for two weeks probably, learning the
Pierce-Arrow cars, which will be used exclusively.

I sincerely hope that in case you do not favor
my action, that you will refrain from too severe
a criticism until I can get home and explain com-
prehensively the turn which may mean so much
to me. Had I followed my personal desires I

34 Camion Letters

would have refused to leave the ambulance serv-
ice. But after my experience with the submarine
and learning practically at first hand the enemy
that not only France, but the United States, has to
deal with, and seeing the tremendous sacrifice
going on about me without a sign of quailing, I
feel that any sacrifice of personal desires that I
make is infinitely trivial. If France is so hard
put as to make, through some of her highest
officials, a request that a part of her Ambulance
Service be turned over into this new Service, —
What is a man to think ?

This letter certainly lacks the valuable quality
of brevity. With a request that you write me
and a promise to keep you posted as far as rea-
sonable, though not an ambulance driver I am.

Yours sincerely

XIII

A WHOLE lot has happened, too much to ac-
count for in detail, since I last wrote. Forty-
two of us, mostly Cornell boys, left Paris on the
morning of May 8. Movies and quite a celebra-

Camion Letters 35

tion accompanied the departure. In the middle of
the afternoon we had arrived at the nearest point
the trains were able to reach to Soissons in the
Brie region. We were trucked to a small town
in a hilly wooded country. A mile or so out we
made a camp, which was changed to a permanent
position in a large and beautiful open beech wood.

We have three nice tents, fourteen men to a
tent, a French army cooking outfit and two
cooks who provide plain, well cooked food in
more than sufficient quantity.

There is a splendid man, a French Lieutenant,
in charge. He and an assistant give us lectures
on the Pierce-Arrow cars, road and army regula-
tions, etc. There are eighteen trucks (one sec-
tion) back from the front to train us in running
them. We are getting along well and seeing a lot
of trenches and other interesting scenery.

When our section has been trained we will go
on duty as a reserve, to supply the drivers where
extra supplies are needed, the shifts making it
possible for us to see greatly more of the war and
country.

I have just asked the Lieutenant and he says it
is all right to say that we are in the Brie district

36 Camion Letters

at present, near Soissons. Soissons is now being
shelled to prevent entrance of trains.

The actual war sights we have seen are I sup-
pose only preliminaries. We hear the big guns,
see as many as a dozen or fifteen airplanes in the
air at once and at night there are the stray shells
from anti-aircraft guns and the strings of lumi-
nous rockets. There is a hand grenade practice
point a couple of hundred yards from the camp
and we were shown the mechanism and throw-
ing, all of which were mighty interesting.

Yesterday we went to what was the first line
less than two months ago. The Germans were
driven out by a big French drive from a position
which they had held for two years. The place
was a sure enough sight, concreted, glazed, deco-
rated, curiosities and salvage to satisfy the most
fanatical. The place was full of traps, wires with
bombs hanging in concealed places, etc. We
hardly dared touch anything.

A town back of the trenches was nearly
grounded, the whole country round indescribable
in its ruin of iron, enormous shell holes, barb
wire, remains of all kinds of shells and mecha-
nisms of war.

Camion Letters 37

If I respected the French before I came over
here, that respect is now multiplied many times.
Outside of their treating us in the very best way
possible, the way they seem to be running the
war is certainly wonderful. If anything goes
wrong, or any personal pleasures have to be
turned into hardships, it's " Pour La Guerre/' and
is all right. They all seem to be well aware that
this is a war of years, not months.

The morning after we had set up camp here,
a band was brought from the front, a Captain and
a bunch of men gave us a welcome, a speech, and
some right good music. All of which indicates
the value and rating that France puts on the new
blood that she needs more than any one in
America can realize.

We have been out nearly all day today, learn-
ing how to turn the trucks around under diffi-
culties. I should think that it would cost the
French Government about $100 apiece to train us.

It is now 5 o'clock and the big guns at the
front are going at it with unusual vigor.

38 Camion Letters

XIV.

Just before our arrival in Paris, the American
Ambulance Field Service was changed into the
American Field Service and the organization
much enlarged. Under the existing conditions,
many of us had to enter other fields of service.
We came to help France and France needed men
for transport service. It was our duty to join
where needed and this we did. Six of the W. U.
.Unit are with me; the rest are in Paris and ex-
pect to drive ambulances there — to and from the
railway stations. I hated very much to break up
the unit, but I could not have done otherwise
and I have a clear conscience. America is at
war and boys of my standing should not be doing
only the Ambulance work. Please do not criti-
cise my action — it would be unfair to me, for no
one in America has the knowledge that he must
have before making any conclusions. — It isn't
what we came to do, but it is the thing to do. —
America is absurdly ignorant of the part she is
expected to play in this great war. It is a tre-
mendous and grim thing, and the sooner America

Camion Letters 39

realizes it, the better. France has fought a won-
derful fight and it is now time for a fresh entry
into the conflict.

XV,

June 14, 1917.
The section has just finished loading the cars
at one of the big depots and is on the road toward
the lines. It is early in the afternoon and they
can only go to a certain point along the road and
wait there until nightfall before continuing to the
more advanced posts. The load consists of vari-
ous trench materials, walks, poles, wire, screens,
and so on. It is not our task to carry such things,
but during slack intervals the reserves do not
always carry ammunition. We arrived three
weeks ago, just at the tail end of an offensive, and
work has been diminishing ever since. The fel-
lows get impatient at being idle any of the time —
they haven't learned that this is how war goes.
Over three weeks since we left the training school
and began regular service. Before six months are
up the fellows will have accomplished a lot of real

40 Camion Letters

hard physical work. Much more, I think, than
in the Ambulance section. But the work isn't
nearly so appealing, so it would take more courage
to see it through. We go about as far up as the
ambulances and take the same risks — in fact, on
every trip some of the cars have run through
shells, but there isn't the same opportunity for
individual action. Convois of eight, twelve, six-
teen cars always together.

I knew from the start that we had an excep-
tionally good set of men, and they are turning out
that in every respect. The French Captain has

remarked about it several times. and

are excellent Sergeants, and and are

equally good Corporals. and are next

in line for non-com. officers. Already four of the
men of the original section have been made leaders
of new sections — they were not Cornell men, how-
ever. It is my aim to have this section the well
from which the leaders for the new sections will
be drawn. This T. M. Service should increase
very fast. I expect by the end of the summer
there will be a thousand men enrolled. Of course,
the type of fellows may have to change because of
conscription, but it will be just the place for men

Camion Letters 41

over thirty who wish to serve in some active
manner.

I wish the people in America could realize how
much France needs men and supplies. Not only
fighting men, but organizers and business heads.
At times there are incidents that give reasons, per-
haps, why the war has lasted so long.

I was delighted to receive your letter telling of
the financial success of your campaign for money
for the Service.

XVI

July 2nd, 19 1 7.
Although yesterday was Sunday no one
would have known it as far as we were concerned.
In the morning a mist which was the end of a
two days' rain kept every one who had not work
to do indoors where we lay around and rested, as
the orders were out that we were to go out that
night. Besides I had several things to do, such as
laying walks, etc., so that the fellows could get
around camp without being swallowed up in the
mud. For two days' rain makes this soil im-

42 Camion Letters

passable for human or any other travel. The
roads, however, are good, for they have a nice
deep rock bottom, and as long as one stays there
everything runs along O. K. But when a 5-ton
truck gets stuck in the mud there's the deuce
to pay and it takes a pretty good deal of work to
get her out again. So far we have been lucky and
with careful driving have avoided lots of trouble.
Now let me tell you why I feel like a prince
today. To begin with four of the fellows left for
Meaux, where they are training as officers and
that left some vacancies. Before this time I had

been a second driver to on the second car

(we call the job "Grease Cup Boy"). Well,
what do you think, I became the proud possessor
of a 5-ton truck myself, with a grease cup boy
under me and lots of driving. This job was not
to last long. I only took one trip with my car
and was hardly on to its quaint tricks when our
acting Chief called me to the Bureau and said

that one of the Corporals had been called to

and that I was to be a Corporal from henceforth.
Now maybe this doesn't mean much, but to me it
means a lot. Our Service is young and new sec-
tions are going out every day. Already nine of

Camion Letters 43

our men have gone to Meaux; when they com-
plete their training they take out their own sec-
tions. I'm now in direct line to be sent to Meaux ;
maybe it will be in six weeks, maybe not for ten,
but anyway eventually I think I shall have a
chance to go and then I shall be a First Lieu-
tenant. So although I don't want to raise your
hopes too high I want you to know how lucky I
am and that so far I've done my duty and that bit
more which counted.

Our trip last night was uneventful, and as I
have been over the same road at least six times it
was more or less monotonous. However, the
place where we stopped for supper was under free
bombardment. The shells were coming in about
once every minute. The whizzytheth XX! and
then a bang! It was rather disconcerting even
when one knew they were landing three hundred
feet away. The French batteries were mighty
busy, too, and it was like being in a mighty
thunderstorm which never stopped thundering
an instant. One gets so that he can distinguish
the size of the gun by the strength of the explo-
sion and it was amusing to guess which was
which.

44 Camion Letters

I don't think I ever told you just how we were
organized. That is, what every oMcier is sup-
posed to do. Well, there are five degrees of rank.
The Assistant Driver, Driver, Corporal, Sergeant,
and Chief. The Assistant Driver helps out on
everything and the Driver is only a degree higher
in that he is responsible for the car. Both have to
clean the car, repair it, etc., and also act in turn
with the other men as camp police. The Cor-
poral has to see that the work is done and done
right and in convoy rides in the last car of each
section to see that the convoy is kept from trail-
ing out along the road, and in case a car has to
stop sizes up the trouble, fixes it if he can, and if
not sees that it gets home. The Sergeant is re-
sponsible for the convoy en route, the camp and
men in general, while the Chief does the whole
thing, and rides in the Staff car. If he is a good
man and has a good bunch, his responsibilities are
light, if not they are heavy.

I must do the rounds, so good-bye until later.

Camion Letters 45

XVII

Somewhere in France, July, ipi/.

It is three o'clock this afternoon and I have
only just got up, the reason being that I did not
get in until eight this morning. We had a long,
hard trip yesterday and last night. Left here at
two in the afternoon, picked up a load of barbed
wire, then ran up toward the lines as far as we
could in daylight and stopped for supper about
5 o'clock. Three of us had bought some cheese,
bread, and jam, so with the modest rations fur-
nished us we had an excellent supper, sitting out
in the middle of a field with a fine view off to
the west and no reminders from the north that
such a thing as war was going on.

We had not been there very long before we
heard a hiss and a bang nearby and ran over to
see what had happened. We found that one of
the crew boys had picked up a hand grenade and
thrown it into a nearby trench, but it failed to
explode, so he looked over to discover the reason,
with the result it went off and some jagged splin-
ters hit him in the leg above the knee. We band-
aged him up, hailed a passing ambulance and

46 Camion Letters

shipped him off to the hospital, from which re-
ports have come that the slug was easily removed
and he will soon be out. He was a lucky
lad.

The fields about here are filled with unexploded
shell and hand grenades and bombs and we have
strict orders not to touch them, so it was his own
fault, pure and simple. Well, we had to wait
until 10 o'clock so we would not be seen before
going to the lines. We ran down into the gully
of the Aisne river and just as we were about to
cross the stream the car ahead of me, instead of
turning and going over the new bridge, headed
straight for the one which had been destroyed and
almost got there, but was stopped in time. I
turned to the right without waiting for him,
crossed the new makeshift bridge and went bang-
ing along up the opposite slope where we were to
unload.

There was no shelling to speak of, so soon all
ten trucks were unloaded and we were ready to
go home, but it was not to be. There was a
lot of heavy shells which were to be moved to
another spot from a nearby abandoned battery, so
we cranked up and started off for another load.

Camion Letters 47

It was awfully dark and cloudy and just begin-
ning to rain, so there was some excuse for my
almost running down some soldiers on their way
back from the trenches. They were marching
along silently in the dark, the Captain with his
dog leading the way on foot; the soldiers with
their rifles and packs close behind him; they fol-
lowed by the supply wagons.

There is something most impressive about the
way these infantry officers lead their men. For
the most part they are men well on towards middle
age; that is, the higher officers; instead of riding
they usually walk along just ahead of the younger
officers and invariably they are accompanied by
a German police dog. You get the impression
that they expect nothing better than the men get,
stand the same marches and the same hard-
ships and at the same time carry all the respon-
sibility that the command of a body of men
brings.

So having passed by, we ran on for a few kilo-
meters in the pouring rain; the unloaded trucks
slid first to one side of the road, then to the other,
with sometimes a wheel in the ditch. After some
time we found the shells which turned out to be

48 Camion Letters

those huge 320's. It took the men a long time
to load them, so we coiled up on the seats, pulled
our thick coats over us, and slept soundly in the
rain for almost two hours.

Then came the order to move, the cars roared
and spluttered; one went into a ditch and had to
be pulled out. Another lost all the water from
its radiator because the car ahead smashed into
it but went along, the last car towing the invalid.
The road we ran along would in daylight have
been about as safe as a lane in no m.an's land, but
now with only the star shells burning over us
and no sausages or balloons up it was as safe as
Harrison Avenue on a summer night. The star
shells lighted things up wonderfully.

We went rumbling through deserted villages,
the noise of the trucks becoming a roar in the
little narrow streets. Never a soul do you see
in these little ruined towns; it is almost uncanny.
Most of the little houses are roofless, some have
great gaping holes in the walls, many have little
left but the walls themselves, which stand out in
all their jaggedness against the blaze of light to
the north. A sentry stood at the bridge as we
crossed a poplar lined canal. We ran along

Camion Letters 49

through the country again, but soon entered one
of the prettiest French towns I have yet seen.

The streets were wide (for a French town),
most of the buildings were chateaux set well back
from the road among the trees, and oddly enough
they were little damaged from shell fire. Off to
the right a square church tower, surmounted by
the usual ugly spire which spoils so many French
country churches, was clearly visible.

We turned to the left and suddenly came into
a part of the town which had been torn to pieces.
The trees were cut off near the ground, though
some still stood with a grotesque limb or two
stuck out from the trunk. The houses were in
ruins; great round shadows in the gardens showed
where some of the shells had landed. It was
almost impossible to believe that this was a part
of the same town.

We passed on again into the country and turned
back toward the south. The star shells behind
us cast the shadows of the camion on the road
before us. No longer was the illumination an
aid; it was most decidedly a hindrance. The
road became rougher; we bumped rapidly on and
then suddenly came out into one of those great

50 Camion Letters

broad highways for which France is famous.
Those of us who were wise enough to remove the
governors from our cars flew along; those who
had not bumped placidly on. Finally, just as it
was growing light, we came to our depot, only
to find we could not be unloaded until six o'clock.

The driver of the car ahead of me let down the
back of his truck, exposing the forty-odd shells
which lay there. He thought he would be un-
loaded there, but instead he was told to move
further on. Forgetting that his tailboard was
down, he started ahead, jolting over the corduroy
road. I saw the last one of the shells move back,
then it rolled a bit nearer the edge. I did not
budge, but sat there scared stiff. Nearer it came
and suddenly rolled off and dropped five feet
onto the log roadway and lay there. I had not
dared to breathe, for it seemed an hour, and all
I could do was to gulp. So we curled up again
on our coats.

The rain began again, but we slept on for two
hours, until the men came to unload us. Then
we flew for home, picking up some turbaned
African soldiers who asked for a lift. At 7: 30
a.m. we pulled in here and at 8 we were sound

Camion Letters 51

asleep after eighteen hours on the road. I have
gone into detail about this trip, so as to show
what our work is like. Sometimes we have more
excitement in various forms, but it was an average
trip.

XVIII

We are resting by the road — a very common
thing in the Transport Military Service. I have
a load of green wood — for trestle work — which
cannot weigh more than 34,000 pounds, for it is
only a 5-ton truck.

As my paper may testify before my interrupted
letter is complete, I have not washed my hands
or face for more than sixty hours. My last bath
was taken in Paris.

I spoke above of interruptions. They are not
orders to proceed, or unload, or any such thing.
The first was to watch a snappy combat of soi.vante
quinses and a squadron of Boche airplanes. They

seemed to be directly over N , which is some

twelve kilometers from F where we are tem-
porarily quartered. The pet guns of the French,

52 Camion Letters

the little pieces which with the aid of the inferior
Fifth Avenue buses are reputed to have saved
Paris pounded away for about ten minutes. They
sprinkled little white puffs all over the sky but
didn't seem to be coming within some nine or ten
miles of the white-bellied evening birds. The
latter, however, apparently were wasting no time
or gasoline in getting up and away. They were
soon out of sight. The poilus who insist upon
treating us as we do a circus parade claimed that
several of the booms were aerial bombs. How-
ever they tell us anything they think we can
understand of their French so it is hard to believe
anything.

The second interruption (which as it hap-
pened occurred some fifteen minutes before
the other — and a few less before I began
this letter) was a large troop movement. It
is nothing new, or unique. But of course
it may interest you somewhat. They were
mostly French Hindu Chinese, whom the French
call " Annamites," but were sprinkled with Sene-
galese and natives. Pinched in between them
were a few hundred German prisoners. They
looked very much like little boys who had been

Camion Letters 53

caught on five or six dictionaries and a morocco
bound copy of Heroes and Hero Worship eating
jam. They weren't having any fun, though,
where these were, and you can hardly hate any
one who has lived like a rat in the ground for
months.

I have seen a bit of that ferret-life. We have
been through miles of first line trenches which had
been evacuated by the Germans several weeks be-
fore. We also thoroughly investigated the vil-
lage of N , which the French tore completely

to pieces to retake it from the Germans. We got
what we had been asking for in Paris, almost the
day we left it — excitement ! Some of us wanted
it and some of us thought we wanted it. Now,
of course, we sleep with 210 and bigger shells
hurtling their demoniac way over our heads. But
the first day that we crouched in a rehearsal
trench watching the French rookies In hand gren-
ade practice, there wasn't one of us that didn't
shake all over every once in a while — perhaps
every time a grenade was thrown.

We are part of the French Army. Just what
our status will be when our troops, promised for
July, arrive we have not yet been able to dis-

54 Camion Letters

cover. Finding out anything is the hardest work
we have. Often we don't know where we are or
where we are going. We never know when we
are through or when we are starting. In fact we
know very Httle except that we work hard and
probably shall until we get back to Paris.

Since starting the above paragraph we have
come some eighteen miles, steady running over
deeply rutted roads, muddy roads, and over-
trafficked roads. A tired, sleepy-looking gang of
unfit-for-the-front peasants are nonchalantly un-
loading the poles. I am carrying forty-six and
the seven men disturbing my camion should have
them out in time for dinner-supper, which is in
two hours.

This above statement is misleading. Supper is
any time we get back; just as breakfast is fifteen
minutes before we leave — be that at 4 or 8.
Lunch is any time motors are hot enough to stop
the convois.

If I am giving the impression that a single
one of us is displeased or dissatisfied it is an
erroneous one. Lately, since we have left our
training camp, we have been mostly marking time.
I repeat that things are quiet along most of the

Camion Letters 55

French front and especially where we happen to
be. Near here we have been extraordinarily suc-
cessful and the air supremacy is assured, I
imagine. However, French newspapers must bow

in accuracy and unbiasedness even to The ;

and French soldiers, even officers, are pretty
badly informed as to what is happening except
in their own sections.

England is of course just catching her stride.
I doubt if she has her second wind. Each day,
however, she extends her lines, relieving the
French strain and allowing a more perfect con-
centration of offensive forces. The Australians
are constantly the recipients of unending praise
and the Canadians and New Zealanders are hon-
ored. The Scotch (who wear silk plaid breeches
in every Paris cafe) are absolutely worshipped.

To return to my statement of our treatment
and satisfaction. They love us, particularly be-
cause we are volunteers and especially because we
are Americans. They cannot do enough for us in
every way.

The work is spasmodic — that is all that we
object to. We may work seventy hours and then
loaf and make ourselves think we are not (which

56 Camion Letters

is the harder) for three times seventy. Even at
that it is pleasant to think that no alarm-clock
will waken you at 7 (a rough hand will do it at
5) to attend a lecture on Roman Lawyers and
their friends by a much-esteemed Professor.

I am at this moment the camp favorite. A
New York Times for Sunday, April 15, has just
arrived. It is the first American newspaper that
has disturbed our quiet and most blissful coma of
ignorance.

XIX

Somewhere in July.
We left the training camp about a week ago
and arrived at our permanent place of abode after
about six hours of riding in the camions. The

camp is at J , about seven miles from the

front, and in the Aisne district. We were put into
barracks, but before we had time to get settled
and everything put to rights we were called to go
out on a drive which lasted all night. The work
has kept up ever since and last night was the first
that we have had over five hours' sleep in.

Camion Letters 57

The camion that Elmer and I received (there
are two of us on each truck) was a 5-ton
Pierce-Arrow, which was in fairly good shape.
It has been through the battles of the Somme and
the Marne and has three shell and five or six
bullet holes in it. El and I have worked on it
all our spare time and now it is running in fine
order. Over here you have to do all the repairs
on the cars yourself and that is no slight job
with some of these old trucks.

The other day we left at five in the morning
and loaded at park and drove about twenty

miles to B at C where we left our load

in the dumping park. While we were waiting
there for the Frenchmen to unload, — and believe
me they are mighty slow workers, — we had a
very interesting sight.

A French airplane was over the trenches drop-
ping a few bombs, when all of a sudden a German
plane came out. The French plane retreated
back over his own trenches with the other fol-
lowing him. It was a beautiful sight to see the
shrapnel from the French anti-aircraft guns
bursting white pufifs around the German flyer.
The Frenchman finally got above the Boche and

58 Camion Letters

came down in a spiral around him, firing his
machine-gun. As he did so the Boche must have
been hit because he zigzagged down to earth,
leaving a trail of smoke behind him. The min-
ute he started falling, all the French poilus
started yelling, for the German planes do an
awful lot of damage dropping bombs at night
and the French are glad to get back at
them.

We went back again and loaded up at another
park and went across the Aisne river to a little
town behind a hill where we had to wait until
dark before we could go ahead. About nine
o'clock we took our load of shells, seventy-fives,

to Chateau S , which is about one mile from

the trenches. There are two batteries of seventy-
fives and one of one hundred fifty-fives there and
when they were all going at once it certainly was
some Fourth of July by the noise. When the
deportees left the guns you would see a flash and
then hear a report followed by a whirring moan.
That is all right, but when you hear an arrivee,
a shriek followed by a report, if it is anywhere
near you, you want to get right down on your
face on the ground. You are quite safe if you

Camion Letters 59

do that because the fragments of shells scatter
in parabolas from where they land.

On the way home just after we crossed the

bridge over the Aisne at P d'A , one of

the cars ran out of gas so the whole rame stopped
and as luck would have it the Germans started
shelling the bridge with high explosive shells.
They didn't quite have the range and the first
shell landed seventy-five yards from us and the
second about fifty feet away. The last covered
us with dirt and the fuse landed on the road right
side of one of the fellows and he now has it as a
souvenir. We all must have had horseshoes tied
to us, however, and nobody has been hit in our
section as yet.

Well, we have got to roll pretty soon now, so I
must close. Give my love to all the folks and
write soon because anything no matter how short
seems mighty good to us out here.

6o Camion Letters

XX

Augiist ist, 19 17.

I'm telling the world I'm tired. It is now
twelve days and twelve nights that we have been
working with only a little time between trips to
eat and write letters. About all our sleep we get
on our cars while they are being loaded. But now
we are all getting hardened to the work so it's not
so bad. As for dirt, well if cleanliness is next to
godliness then I guess we all live next door to the
devil, for water is scarce. There isn't much to
write today, for nothing much has happened.

The last three days I have been running the
wrecking car and since it has been raining for a
couple of days it has been some job. When it
rains here the roads all disappear and two or
three inches of slimy mud take their place. Con-
sequently lots of cars slide off into the ditches
and we have to haul them out. One car started
across country for Berlin but landed up against
one of the screens which protect the Route
Gardue so didn't get far. He was loaded with
ammunition which we had to unload, then pull
him back on the road, load him up again and ship

Camion Letters 6l

him off. Then another car slipped off into a field
and we had to repeat the process. Finally after
forty-eight hours of work like that we started
for camp but picked up a car with a broken drive
shaft and had to tow it fifteen miles back to the
repair shop. But when we got there about lo
o'clock this morning such a meal as they had for
us! Good beef, string beans, lentils, potatoes,
bread and cheese, and hot coffee! Gosh! It
tasted like a million dollars.

Our camp is situated a short way behind the
lines so that we do not have to go far to the
munition depots, but since we are supplying two
sectors now we have to haul a long way. I have
forgotten whether I told about our camp so I
will tell you now. We have a large tent which
serves as a dining-room and as a recreation room.
Around this are grouped trailers, called
remorquiSj in which we sleep. These are about
six feet by ten and three men live in each with
hanging beds suspended from the roof. So far
we have found them very comfortable but I bet
they'll be cold in winter. At any rate we don't
sleep much in them, so we should worry. We
have our own cooking staff and are very well

62 Camion Letters

taken care of in that respect. Outside of the
regular French officers' fare we receive forty
cents a day extra toward food, so you see we
fare well. For breakfast we have eggs, bread and
jam, and coffee. For dinner we get meat (usually
beef), rice or spaghetti, bread and jam, and
coffee. Supper is our big meal, — we have meat,
potatoes, beans or lentils, some kind of fruit,
vegetables, and hot tea or coffee. The only thing
we lack is sweet stuff but we buy chocolate to
fill in. Just at present I am out of money so I
don't get any, so it's not much loss.

It is rumored around camp that we move for
new quarters tomorrow. We go up to the West-
ern front where there is a big French and British
offensive going on. When we move all we have
to do is to hitch our remorqids behind our trucks
and go. It's like picking up your bed and walk-
ing. By moving so much we will eventually see
most of the front, which will be fine. The offen-
sive around here last week resulted in the French
gaining what they desired so they will probably
have a lull here for a while. But while this
attack lasted (for two weeks) it was terrible.
There are some pictures in Leslie's Magazine of

Camion Letters 63

July the 5th, which shows some pictures of
screened roads. These are taken on this front and
are roads which I have travelled over. The
bridge pictured was recently blown up by a shell.
These pictures might interest you as other pic-
tures also in it show pictures of this front.

Well, we have to carry some bomb-proofs up
to a town near the front lines tonight, so I must
close. We go up to this town by night because
the road up is visible to the Germans and our
convoy would be a tasty bit to them. Therefore
we go up there at night. I had to tow a car down
from there the other day in broad daylight, but
nothing happened and we weren't fired on once.

XXI

Paris, May 6, iQiy.
This is my first letter to you all since my
arrival in Paris. My last letter home was writ-
ten on the boat from which we landed without
event on April 25th. I shall never forget the
last morning on board. I climbed out of bed
early in order to be on deck when the boat

64 Camion Letters

arrived in sight of land. When I got up on
deck, through the mist could be seen indistinctly
the shore line, which in an hour became a mass of
green landscape. After eleven days of nothing
but water in motion, it was the greatest relief to
the eyes to see land again. Soon we were in the
harbor feasting our eyes on the beautiful farms
and hamlets which ran down to the water's edge
not over one hundred yards away. By noon we
were up the harbor as far as the tide would let
us go, waiting for higher tide before proceeding
to Bordeaux; away again at 4 p.m., arriving
at the end of our journey at 10 o'clock Wednes-
day night. As the hotels were nearly all filled,
we remained on the boat all night.

In the morning we barely had time to breakfast
and send for a few cards before our train left
for Paris. I did not, therefore, have time to
see much of Bordeaux. The trains and train
service here are far superior to what I had
imagined they would be. First-class engines,
good, though crude coaches, made up of six to
ten passenger compartments. Ten of us climbed
into one of these in a second-class coach, and we
jvere off. The Government took us up, so as ^e

Camion Letters 65

travelled free of charge, we saw nothing of the
conductor all the way.

The trip was without exception the most beau-
tiful and interesting that I have ever taken. All
of France is wearing its spring coat. The farms
run right up to the tracks. Garden truck and
grain are up, and the fields are full of laborers —
mostly women. The few men seen were either
crippled, wounded, or too old for army service.
Most of the traction on the farms is done by oxen;
more so now I understand than formerly, as the
horses all go to the front.

The farmsteads, though humble, are as neat as
pins. Gardens come up to the door; no space is
wasted. All of the houses are of stone, or a
kind of mud plaster, and all the houses on farms
and in the little towns have red tile roofs. One
feels on passing through the country that he is
constantly in a mammoth old-fashioned garden,
so neat and quiet and beautiful is everything.
Some of the boys played cards all of the way up.
I couldn't leave the window, for the beauty of the
scene gripped me from the moment we left
Bordeaux.

After nine too short hours, we arrived in Paris

66 Camion Letters

at dusk, and were taken at once to headquarters,
tired, dirty (they use soft coal on the railroads),
but glad to get where we could get something
under the belt and then a clean bed. 21 rue
Raynouard was full to capacity, as was the over-
flow on rue Lekain, but they had rented a good
sized chapel next to the house on rue Lekain, and
arranged twenty-five cots in rows there. About
twenty of the Cornell bunch, including myself,
picked cots there, and yours truly went at once to
bed to sleep the sleep of the just.

It is a mighty comfortable camp. We got
breakfast at the house next door in rue Lekain,
and the other meals at headquarters on rue Ray-
nouard. The feed is excellent and we could not
be treated better. Headquarters is a fine old
mansion given for the duration of the war by
the owners to the American Field Service. It
backs on to a beautiful park, sloping down to
the Seine, the existence of which would not be
suspected from a look at the grim, homely appear-
ance of the front of the house on rue Raynouard.
The interior, though now bare of carpets and
expensive furniture, suggests grandeur. Great
halls and stairways, a beautiful panelled dining-

Camion Letters 67

room, and imposing terraces in the rear, all fit
in with one's impressions (derived from books)
of French love of the beautiful. The rooms
now are dormitories for the men while in Paris,
and offices, a lounge and a dining-room and a
great kitchen. We are well taken care of here.

I have been rather busy since my arrival and
have not really had an opportunity to see Paris.
I have, however, taken advantage of what spare
time I have had to see the exterior of some of
the most beautiful buildings and some of the
parks. Most of the famous buildings, as the
Louvre, etc., are closed to the public, on account
of the war, and I, therefore will not be able to
see the inside of them, but it is most interesting
to wander about just looking at these magnificent
buildings with their surrounding parks and won-
derful statues; one reads history, struggles, sacri-
fice, at every step. I imagine France is going
through now on a large scale what she has been
through for many, many generations. Her monu-
ments are predominantly war monuments, her
art that art inspired by great sacrifice and love of
country. Already I feel that I have learned
much that I needed to learn. If I were to re-

^8 Camion Letters

turn now I would feel repaid for the trip. I
shall have much to tell you of this wonderful
place and these wonderful people after I have
been in contact with them longer.

What has impressed me most during my short
stay here is the earnestness of the French people
in the present conflict; their willingness to sac-
rifice everything for the great cause wh.ch they
have been upholding for the world since the be-
ginning of the war. There are few men m
civilian clothes seen in Paris, and those few are
cripples and old men. Women predominate to
a great degree, and I think it conservative to say
that seventy-five per cent, of the women are m
black. And yet there is little sadness displayed.
True there are few smiling faces to be seen, too
great a tragedy is being acted for these poor
people to find much joy in life, and yet no one
complains; each plays the part willingly knowmg
that the sacrifice has been made for France. Th.s
is indeed a wonderful people. But Paris is no

longer gay.

It is indeed a great consolation to me now,
more so than I ever imagined it would be, to know
that the United States is at last a participant

Camion Letters 69

in this awful affair. It is indeed a miserable
affair and a pity that the whole world should be
required to turn from the ordinary pursuits of
life and peace to those of war. But for a long
time a war against oppression, crime, and fright-
fulness has been waged for us, and we have
reaped the " benefits " in money.

Thank God we can now lift up our heads and
square our shoulders again! The Stars and
Stripes again means what it meant in '76 and '12
and '61 — it stands for honor and peace and
humanity even though the price be war. I long
for the day when our first American troops land
in France to fight shoulder to shoulder with the
rest of the world against selfishness and greed,
and when this war is over, as I pray it soon
will be, may America, my country, take the
initiative in the movement for an alliance of
nations, a world federation so organized that
war will no longer be possible. Do not think that
mine is a schoolboy patriotism. I despise a fight
as such; I despise war — as such. We — the United
States — are fighting against war — not for it.

yo Camion Letters

XXII

June 10, 19 17.

Here I am again and my intention is to com-
plete this letter at this sitting and get it off to you
tonight. I had similar intentions on the fifth,
but was called for a meeting while writing and
this is the first opportunity I have had since then
to write you. I am writing this under far differ-
ent circumstances and conditions than those sur-
rounding me when I wrote the above. In the first
place I am seated on a pile of straw under a tent
somewhere in France as a member of T. M. 23,
with address changed to B. C. M., Paris, France.

I am still in the American Field Service doing,
however, different work than I had originally
planned. On May 5th, Mr. Andrew, the head
of the American Field Service, called all the
Cornell men together and outlined a plan which
the French Government asked him to adopt. As
the United States is no longer neutral the Ameri-
can Field Service has been asked to extend its
activities and supply men for transport work at
the front as well as for ambulance work. At

Camion Letters 71

present there is a great lack of drivers for the
big transport ammunition trucks — a lack which
is not felt in the ambulance work.

The plan as presented to us was for as many
men as possible among those present who could
pass the physical examination to volunteer for
this service instead of for the ambulance; to re-
cruit to forty men and leave at once for a week's
training at some point out toward the front. The
plan was adopted and after getting our equipment
together and being passed on by the doctor, forty
of us left Paris yesterday morning after a most
impressive ceremony. We were given a banquet
Monday night at which Ambassador Sharp and
several high up French officers addressed us with
stirring speeches. Yesterday morning we were
inspected under arms and passed in review with
the Stars and Stripes waving in our midst.

Do not be alarmed at this change. The work
is not more dangerous than the ambulance work,
but is more to my liking. It is belligerent service
and as the United States is no longer neutral,
and as I am praying that she will send her boys
and soon fight in a most worthy cause, I could
see no reason why I should now be doing work

72 Camion Letters

which is being carried on largely by neutrals.
The same organization is handling this new serv-
ice as is handling the ambulance. This is merely
a new branch — a new activity of the Field
Service. Our unit is the first unit in this service
and the first organization of Americans to go into
belligerent service in France since war was de-
clared by the United States.

We left Paris for yesterday morning

after the fine send off, glad for the change, and
arrived here in the afternoon. We spent the
afternoon and evening pitching camp and getting
organized and turned in early in order to be up
early in the morning. The camp is in a beautiful
little valley just below a pretty, though humble
French town. We have three large tents, an
officers' tent, and two kitchen wagons, and an
office wagon. This morning we had another
ceremony conducted by a French Captain and a
large band, at which the American and French
flags were formally raised over the camp.

We shall be here a week learning how to drive
the big S-ton Pierce-Arrow military trucks,
after which time we will be sent out into active
service at the front. There will be twenty trucks

Camion Letters y^

travelling in convoy, two men to a machine, each
driving half the time and assisting on the road
the other half. We begin the work tomorrow and
later I will be able to tell you more in detail just
what we have to do. There will be much that I
cannot tell you until I see you again. Our orders
are very strict on this point and places and inci-
dents will have to be left out of my letter. I'll
keep a diary, however, and will have much to tell
you when I see you again. I am in the best of
health and am getting a great deal out of this
experience !

XXIII

Saturday, June i6, ipi/.
This is a hot, sultry afternoon and the bar-
racks are like ovens, but I want to get a letter
started to you now that I have a little time, so
I will start it now and finish it in the cool of this
evening unless other duties prevent. I have re-
ceived no word from the States since I last wrote
you, but as a boat has arrived and mail is be-

74 Camion Letters

ginning to come in again I am looking forward
to receiving the good home letters tonight.

Last night I had a most pleasant surprise in

the receipt of the pound of tobacco from .

I was surely hungry for a real smoke, for my
supply had run out some time ago and French
tobacco is vile. So I got out my old jimmy pipe
and filled it full and then went out and dreamed
pipe dreams. I guess you know, without my
telling you, how much I appreciate your keeping
me supplied. You folks will all have me spoiled ;
what with candy and books and smoke a fellow
is as comfortable as a Fifth Avenue millionaire
and lots happier.

Evening — same day. Well, I didn't get far
this afternoon. Just got started when Tinkham
called the section out for drill. We surely had
some workout and all came in after two hours of
it wringing wet, for this has been about the hot-
test day we have had and that means pretty hot
and the heat here seems more depressing than at
home.

We have had but very little rain in this sec-
tion, but in spite of that fact the crops seem to
be doing well. Though the heat of the day is

Camion Letters 71;

intense, the nights usually turn off cool and re-
freshing. A heavy dew falls, which probably
in a measure makes up for some of the lack of
rain. Just now I am down the road from camp
writing on the steering wheel of one of the
trucks as a desk and hoping that it will not take
too long for this part of the world to cool off
tonight, for it is difficult to make one's mind
operate when it is as warm as it is right now.

The postman disappointed most of us tonight,
bringing only three or four letters and that's not
near enough to keep a whole camp satisfied. But
as tomorrow is Sunday, which is not a day off in
the war zone, we will hope for better luck when he
comes tomorrow night. The mail service is
highly inefficient as far as speed is concerned, but
it seldom fails in finally delivering what is
intrusted to it. So here's hoping for the morrow.
I sure am anxious to hear from you all.

Everything is going well with me here. Our
group of four sections needs but one more section
to make the group complete, and that one will be
added next week. Recruits are rapidly arriving
in Paris for this service and new sections are
being formed as fast as possible and will be sent

76 Camion Letters

to form new groups as soon as they receive the
i proper training. Our group will consist when
completed of: Section A— mostly Cornell; Sec-
tion B — mostly Andover; Section C — mostly
Dartmouth; and Section D — miscellaneous. The
group lives in adjacent barracks, but each section
has its own Lieutenant and Commissary and
works independent of the others. There is a
friendly rivalry among the sections in many ways,
i.e., the carrying out of our daily work; drill;
baseball; etc.

On the whole the boys get along together
finely, though as is always the case when a bunch
of men get together there comes up now and then
a little friction which soon wears off after the
application of the right kind of oil and everything
is lovely again. It may be because I am closer
to them and know them better, but I feel that
of all the sections so far our bunch has the clean-
est, finest bunch of lads. I have made some good
friends among them. There's Rusty, of course;

them (Cornell '14) whom I knew well at

school; is a prince of a lad who I have

come to know very well, for we spend much of
our spare time together, and as he is Sergeant

Camion Letters 77

of the rame in which I am " Corp." we work
together. You will be glad to know him when

we get back. Then there is , who is Rusty's

pal and who is one of those short, lanky lads who
makes every one near him at all times laugh at
his funny remarks and antics. There are a lot

of fine fellows here! and I knew

better than any of the rest. So with so many old
friends and new a fellow can't kick at his
environment.

Sunday noon. — Couldn't finish this last night,
as I was called in for orders for the work today,
which consists of a night trip. Leaving camp at
4 p.m. we drive to a loading station, get a load
of "junk" (munitions or materials), then drive
toward the front, arriving at a little shot-up town
at about 6:30, where we stop, eat a cold lunch,
and wait until dark. Then we move on to our
destination, an artillery supply station, where we
are unloaded. Then back to camp in the dark
without a light and in bed at about 2 a.m., if
everything goes well. Things are mighty quiet
here along the front and for the past week we
have not been on the road as much as usual or
as much as we would like to be. Nevertheless

7^ Camion Letters

there is plenty to do getting the cars in shape,
drilling, etc. There is work around the barracks
which we all pitch in and help with, such as
" cleaning house," peeling spuds, carrying water,
etc.

If you think we are poorly fed, just listen to
this. I just got up from a dinner at which the
following was inflicted on us : ham, French-fried
new potatoes, lettuce salad, strawberries, cherries,
bread and jam. What do you think of that?
Well, yes, I'll admit it was the best meal we
have had in camp, but whoever heard of a soldier
getting strawberries with his rations? We are
surely well fed. I have never enjoyed better
health. But say — I'll never be weaned from
little U. S. Here's what I dream about when
I dream about feed : Home-made bread, Butter —
Jelly!! Pie — ice cream — and say — did such a
thing as beefsteak ever exist or is that just an
idea I had? I'm not complaining one bit, for
I'm mighty glad I'm here, but— well, I'll sure be
glad to get home with you all, and eats have the
least to do with those sentiments.

We have had some mighty interesting experi-
ences here at camp and on our trips in spite of the

Camion Letters 79

comparative inactivity at the front. Only last
night at midnight we were awakened by the sound
of shrapnel bursting and machine-gun fire. Some
of us got up and went out to investigate and found
the cause of the disturbance to be a German
aeroplane flying in this vicinity; dozens of power-
ful searchlights surrounded the camp at a radius
of probably a mile. These moved back and forth
searching the darkness for the intruder. Star
shells were sent up now and then to help in the
illumination. The German flew low over camp.
We could not see him, but he caused considerable
commotion and some excitement.

A few days ago up near the front we wit-
nessed an air fight between a German and two
French planes. After doing some damage the
German got away safe. It was a fast and excit-
ing game while it lasted. Not long ago a Ger-
man plane was dropped in full view of our camp
and I saw (a few days later) a French observa-
tion balloon go up in smoke, the occupants land-
ing safely in parachutes. There is much activity
in the air, there being many " flying " camps
near here. I have seen as many as twenty aero-
planes in the air at once and nearly every day

8o Camion Letters

one sees an enemy plane being fired at. It is
only occasionally that a ground gun hits one, but
they make them keep high up in the air and
thus lessen their chances of taking photographs
of value.

As to the actual fighting on the ground we see
but little of it. Our trucks supply, almost ex-
clusively, the artillery which is located back of
or at the third line trenches. We carry the stuff
as close as possible to the guns — usually, because
of topography, from one-fourth to one-half mile
back, and the stuff is transported forward by
mules, burros, etc. We sometimes walk up to the
guns and watch them operate and an interesting
sight it is. The 75's are neat little guns which
fire up to twenty-four shells a minute. The first
time I watched one fire I thought the concussion
would drop me, and my ears rang for a week.
It is hard to see how the gunners stand up under
the strain for months at a time.

As far as we ourselves are concerned there
seems to be but little danger to our persons. We
do, of course, pass through territory that is
being shelled, but the chances for the individual
being hit are slight. The objective of the enemy

Camion Letters 8r

in these places back of the line is usually a
bridge or road or important building. Knowing
the location of these objects they aim by maps,
etc., never by sight, as they are on hills out of
sight of anything back of the French lines. So
when a shell bursts alongside of a bridge over
which the convoi is travelling and buries itself
in the mud you say, " Missed it, you son of a
gun ! " and move on.

Often only a few cars go out at a time and
it has come to be quite the thing to see which
bunch can tell the wildest tale of adventure on
returning to camp. All in all, this work is just
an everyday grind out of which one who wishes
to can get a great deal, but there is no hero
stuff in the camion service and Kipling would
have a hard time writing a poem on the thrills of
a truck driver. Nevertheless I will have much
to tell you when I return, about experiences which
some of the boys have been through.

One of the looked-forward-to times is the time
when we are considered filthy enough to warrant
the expenditure of a little gasoline to transport
us — to Heaven via the swimming hole. On these
days we all pile into one of the trucks and go

82 Camion Letters

to a wonderful spot in a little river a few miles
from camp. Here we spend two hours in the
double luxury of bathing and swimming. At
these times we are a great curiosity to the won-
dering French. Clothed in nature's own we
actually get wet all over and the French soldiers
don't understand it. Well, we have the times
of our lives on these occasions and the man who
refuses to go is a social outcast until the next
swim.

So you see our life here is a pleasant one.
We work and play and eat and sleep and I for
one am satisfied. I will indeed be glad, how-
ever, when this hellish affair in which we now
are participating is over. It is such a waste, not
alone in materials, — man will always be able to
feed and clothe himself, — but what is more im-
portant, in souls; and not those souls which have
passed on because of the war, but in those who
still live and will be alive after peace is declared.
Men cannot stay civilized under the conditions
imposed on both French and German privates.
Living in holes in the ground with nothing much
left to live for; hating not only the enemy, but
themselves and the civilization which made this

Camion Letters 83

thing possible, they can't come out of this
dirt, in which they have floundered for nearly
three years, clean-hearted and straight. The
thing has rotted the very core of the civilization
they once knew.

It is hard to realize over there the misery which
these people have so willingly suffered. Witness
the story of the whole thing written on the face of
one French soldier who has been through it and
you have proof. My hope is that the United
States will not send a few men — she must send
millions of them if she does not wish to inflict on
a few the suffering and stinting of the soul which
all France has borne for all too long a time.

June 18. Was required to stop yesterday and
take charge of five of the cars on convoy which
left camp at 4 p.m. I said that we would
reach camp at about 2 a.m., but didn't realize
where we were going to unload when I said it.
We landed back in camp at 5 this morning
after the most interesting and exciting trip we
have ever taken. Our trip went as I said it
would up to the point where we waited for dark
before proceeding. When we started out again
we left intervals of one hundred yards between

84 Camion Letters

camions and moved toward the front. We had
never been to the town where we were expected
to unload and soon found that it was closer to
activities than we had ever been before. For the
first time our entire convoy was in the region of
shell fire.

Shells dropped in and about the town, which
we found to be completely demolished and used
only as an artillery base. As soon as we arrived
we put the trucks in as safe places as possible
and hurried into dug-outs, there to remain as
long as the bombardment lasted. It was a most
interesting experience and an eye-opener and a
heart-breaker. Hundreds of men live or rather
exist in this town under ground. They either
dig out vast underground rooms or clean out the
debris in a cellar under a fallen building and
here put together beds and stay when not at the
guns. The places are clean but damp and I can
hardly realize how these men can keep their health
through years of that kind of life.

During a lull Tinkham and Slim and myself
went out into the dark and walked the " streets "
of this one time beautiful village. Everywhere
was wreckage; piles of stones which once were

Camion Letters 85

buildings; shell craters fifteen feet across in the
streets and yards; stark trees stripped by shells.
Rats — the town was full of them and added to
the ghastly impression which one received of the
place. Well — things began to get hot again and
we made fof cover. At 1 130 in the morning
we considered it safe to unload, so woke up
the fellows and drove to the unloading station
at one end of the town. Here we were un-
loaded by a gang of laborers and at 3 started
back for the camp. Somehow, although I was
mighty glad to have been on the trip, it seemed
good to get out of that hell hole and as we
travelled back into the more quiet country and
watched the sun rise and breathed the cool, clean
morning air there were many thoughtful faces
in that bunch of usually so light-hearted fellows.
Arriving in camp at 5 this morning I found
your fine letter waiting for me. It came in last
night when I was out on the job — coming home
as I did nothing could have been more welcome
and refreshing than the good news from the best
of sisters. I'll sure write to you in the very
near future. Truly I'm a lucky sinner — so many
good things happen to me — and the best things

86 Camion Letters

that happen to me here are the letters from you
all with the good news from home.

Apropos of being lucky you will be interested
to know that I was promoted Sergeant while on
the job last night. Our First Sergeant was made
Chief of one of the new sections the day before
with the rank of Lieutenant, and so they pushed
me up a peg. I now have charge of one of the
two rames in the convois and in the barracks.

Some of the boys are beginning to get clip-
pings from the papers in the States telling in
the wildest manner possible the most impossible
tales about this Service. Every time one of the
exaggerated items is received a disgusted and
disappointed crowd is the result. We are glad
to get the clippings, but are sorry that the dope
cannot be handed out straight. Take what the
papers say about this Service or any other with
a grain of salt. France is too deeply buried in
this horrible mud called war to be greatly affected
by the arrival in its midst of a little group of
American boys, even though we do hail from
Cornell.

What gets me is that most of the articles print
CORNELL and America and then follows a lot

Camion Letters 87

of piffle about Captain Tinkham and his bunch of
sturdy Cornell men going into the battle, cheered
by the French and English soldiers as they march
into the trenches. Imagine a Pierce 5-ton truck
marching into the trenches! I'm proud of the
Cornell section, however, for it is American to

the core, first and last. The other day a

College section arrived here. Jumping out of
the truck a cheer leader jumped upon a box and
led a lusty " rah, rah " yell. I was sur-
prised and more than pleased at the reception
this demonstration received at the hands of our
own boys. They simply rolled on the ground
with laughter and jeered the " prep school stuff "
down. It was rough on the new bunch, for they
are fine lads, but I think they learned the lesson
which many of our men needed — that it is no

longer or Cornell or XYZ fraternity, but a

man's game from the word go.

88 Camion Letters

XXIV

June 25, 19 1 y.

Since my last letter written on the i6th, I
haven't received a word from home. The mails
are surely mighty slow, so I'm still hoping that
tonight will bring better luck. I haven't a great
deal of news this time, for our routine has been
about the same every day, but I'll get this started
so as to have my stride when the big mail comes
in and I have the fun of answering the home
letters.

First, being in a particularly selfish mood, I'll
begin by telling about myself. I guess I told
you in my last letter of my promotion. I am now
a Sergeant — some Sergeant— what ? Well, a few
days ago I was told the welcome news that I
would be one of the five men of our section to
go to Meaux. I told you of Meaux once, but had
no idea that my chance would come so soon. It
is there that men are trained to become officers of
transport sections, — so if I make good, my next
step will be Lieutenant in charge of a section —
I surely intend to work for it. We leave here
on July 1st, and remain at the school five weeks.

Camion Letters 89

We will get intensive training in maps, roads,
etc. — engine troubles and engines — magnetos,
etc. — drill, organization of the army and of
transportation, etc. Just a general intensive
course to fit the men for the work in the field!
Rusty goes with us, so I'll have a mighty good
companion. I surely am glad for him — and for
myself that he is going,

June 26. Evening. Here I am again after
another day of inactivity. Usually when we do
not go out on the road we are kept fairly busy
around the barracks, but today we almost had
a day off. Up at seven. Then after breakfast we
peeled potatoes — which was as usual quite a
party. The fellows all gather round a big sack of
spuds and talk. Once in a while a peeled potato
finds its way into the pan. Then the boys played
ball against one of the other sections and I
couldn't resist the temptation to go out and watch
the game. It was sure fun and " we " won 1 1
to 4.

We have dinner at 11, when in camp. After
dinner three of us walked up to town and had a
bath at the infirmary, where there is a fine hot
water shower bath rigged up. It is located in a

go Camion Letters

stable, but it is a great luxury. In town we found
a woman who had strawberries to sell and we
jumped at the chance. She took us to her
" home " in a loft over the shower, where she and
her husband told us of their three sons.

It is the story of thousands of mothers and
fathers here. The two of them were forced out
of their peasant home when the Germans made
their first advance over this territory. One of the
sons was killed at Verdun, one is a prisoner in
Germany now and has been since 1914. The
other is a cavalryman active at the front now.
There can be few happy moments for that good
woman. Well, we bought the berries and took
them to a " store," where we sat down and
munched cookies and ate strawberries to our
heart's content. On returning to camp I just
lazed around until supper time and that brings me
up to now.

I saw the postman come and go again tonight
with nothing for me. I am consoled by the
knowledge that when he does come with my mail
there will be a great deal of it. I do long for
word from you all.

July jst. I have been so busy since starting

Camion Letters 91

this letter that this is my first chance to get back
to it. Let me tell you what I have been doing
and you will understand.

Wednesday night I was told to be ready at 6
a.m. Thursday for a trip to Paris to arrange for
the officers' school. We — that is those chosen
from the several sections — started in a bunch,
eighteen of us. Arrived at Paris about noon, we
went to the Field Service office, were sworn in,
and then had a day and a half to ourselves, which
we spent seeing Paris. I had many errands to
do for the boys in my section out at the front.
The time passed all too rapidly and we had to
leave Paris again. We landed here last night, had
supper at a beautiful old hotel and then were
taken out to camp. I sure am the lucky boy —
and for the life of me I can't figure out what I
have done to deserve all the good things that
come my way.

This school is a wonder. It has been running
since the beginning of the war, but up to a few
weeks ago only French officers were trained
here. The school is on the barracks style and is
strictly military in its routine, but as to equip-
ment it is ideal. Our course starts tomorrow so

92 Camion Letters

I can't tell about the work, but it has a wonderful
reputation for efficiency. It will mean five weeks
of work (back to college again), and those who
pass the course will obtain commissions in the
Field Service. There is a possibility of the
United States taking over the Service, in which
case Americans graduated from Meaux would get
commissions in the United States Army.

This whole thing is so sudden as far as I am
concerned and I know so little about the school
that I will reserve the details of my new ex-
perience for my future letters.

This letter I must close and get off to you. I
am certainly pleased with the news of the activity
in the United States. Troops are already arriv-
ing in France and on talking to some of the
regulars (marines and army) in Paris I was
more than pleased, in fact proud, to learn of the
seriousness with which the United States is taking
the all too serious situation. I sure hope to be a
regular myself — soon.

I am hoping to hear from you all soon. Here's
lots of love to you all and best of wishes.

Camion Letters 93

XXY

July 8, 1917.

This is Sunday night and the end of the
first week in the new camp. It has been a
week full of interest and profitable employment.
I certainly consider myself fortunate in having
been chosen as one of the twenty Americans
here.

The finest thing that happened was the arrival
of two good letters from home. It was a long
wait, but it certainly was worth it, for I had re-
ceived no word from the States since the middle
of June,

Dad, here's to company A ! That is the spirit
that is going to win this war. If every one
will give to the extent that it is in his power to
give, in whatever form he is able, it will not be
long before the boys in khaki can finish their
round trip. What you call doing " your bit,"
Dad, is as essential and as big a thing as a man's
bit who qualifies and goes to the front. I can't
express the pride I take in the spirit you show
and have shown throughout this crisis. Let me
know more about the things that Uncle Sam is

94 Camion Letters

doing. Where do you fellows get together ? Are
the people really heart and soul behind this war ?
etc., etc. I tell you this thing is more serious
than most people think — almost everything de-
pends on the United States and she came in just
in time. I know that this is so.

We have entered on a grim, serious business-
and the length of time we will be in it depends
absolutely on the attitude of our people. We
must keep cool and make the fewest possible
mistakes, but we must work fast and hard. We
are up against a big game — a miserable affair —
if we blunder there is no telling where or when
we will end. If the people over there will get
just one word fixed in their minds much good
will be accomplished and that word is — ** Seri-
ous " ! This is not child's play — this is not San
Juan Hill, this is WAR — real war, — and the mere
fact that the United States is in it will not decide
the outcome. The United States must realize
that she is up against the stiffest proposition she
has ever been required to face and she must act
accordingly.

Politics must not be permitted to operate in
the selection of men to officer, — or in any of the

Camion Letters 95

military operations. I hope the training camps
are free entirely from its influence. France looks
to the United States for big things. France is
depending on us and we must not disappoint her.

I'll tell you now how I am situated here, at
the Officers' School. The school is located just
outside of this very beautiful city. It was started
at the beginning of the war for the purpose of
training French non-coms, as officers in the Auto-
mobile Service of the armies. Up to two months
ago only Frenchmen were trained here, but on the
United States declaring war the French Army re-
quested the Field Service to branch into trans-
port work and on accepting the new responsibility,
Field Service men became eligible (on qualify-
ing) for the French Officers' School. The school
lasts five weeks each session and is usually full
to capacity. We are only the second bunch of
Americans to enter, and are twenty in number.

There are 150 Frenchmen here, but our work
being in English we have our own barracks, study
rooms, and shops. The camp consists of one big
office and supply shack 80 ft. x 20 ft., one dining
shack to accommodate 200 men (and the meals
are good), and eight barracks 80x20 ft. .We

g6 Camion Letters

have one of these. At the end of it is a wash-
room, then two rows of beds — ten on a side.
Then a partition with a door leading into our
lecture-study room, which is about 20 ft. by 30
ft., and arranged with blackboards, long tables,
and benches. Here we receive long lectures on
the technique of the automobile, lectures on the
organization of the French Army with particular
reference to the Automobile Service; lectures on
topography and map reading, and practice in the
same; lectures on organization of automobile
units, on sanitation, food, and care of men; on
duties of an officer in respect to his work and his
men; on convoy and road work, etc., etc.

Then there is a big amphitheatre, which we
of Cornell call Bailey Hall, which seats the en-
tire camp, and there are given lectures on engine
mechanics, etc. There are three long shops con-
taining automobiles and parts of every kind used
in the French Army. There we get practical work
in taking down machines, every part of which we
are required to draw, after which we reassemble
the machines and put them in working order.

There, too, we get lectures on shop practice.
We get demonstrations in welding, soldering, and

Camion Letters 97

brazing — general repairs, etc. The whole course
is given with the aim of giving the men, who
are to officer units or sections, the knowledge
essential to hold down the job most efficiently.
There are two other long shacks used as study
rooms for the Frenchmen, and that completes the
list of structures. All the shacks are made of one
thickness of wood with cinder floors and are very
comfortable, though I don't see how the poor
fellows exist who take this course in winter.

Every other day we go out on a road trip and
get practice in the handling of the convoy on
service. Each man gets a turn as officer of the
day and takes full charge of the doings in camp
during his day on. The other days we drill and
each gets a turn at handling the unit on the
march. We are up at 5 a.m. Breakfast at 6
and then lectures, shop, drill or convoy until 6
in the evening. After supper until 10 is the
study hour and we usually use it. There are
notes to copy, drawings to make, etc., etc., so
that I can truthfully say that I have never put in
such long hours (except when I took Spanish).
But, though long, the hours are most profitable
and interesting. Though only a five weeks' course

98 Camion Letters

it is exceedingly intense and thoroughly practical.
Were I given the choice between this and Platts-
burg I would take this, for we have seen and
are seeing the methods actually used at the front
and I do not think Plattsburg can equal the
actual reality. All of which means only that I am
satisfied. If I pass the course here I will have the
same rank as a French Lieutenant. If the States
takes over this service (as I hope it will) there
is a possibility of those who get by here retaining
the same positions under the Stars and Stripes.

We are in a wonderful part of France. If
you will look up the advance of the French offen-
sive you will realize just why. Here and in this
vicinity thousands of lives were lost in the Battle
of the Marne in the defense of Paris. The coun-
try in this immediate vicinity is bristling with
historic interest. When we were told that we
Americans would have a holiday on the Fourth of
July, three of us, — Rusty, Baker, and myself, —
rented bicycles and while the rest went to Paris
we wandered all over the map, visiting all the
towns included in the Battle of the Ourcq. It
was a wonderful day in every respect. The
scenery about here is exquisite — and we just took

Camion Letters 99

our time over beautiful roads, into towns every
roof of which is of red tile, along the Marne and
the Ourcq, stopping at interesting points, talk-
ing " French " to people along the way and learn-
ing much of interest. I am not allowed to name
the towns, for some reason or other, but I have a
postcard collection of the whole thirty miles,
which I'll bring back with me and then I can
tell you all about it.

The 14th is the big French holiday and we
get Saturday and Sunday off then. We hope to
make a two-day trip at that time to we don't
know where yet, but feel that Paris would be a
waste of time when we have an opportunity to
see places now which will cover pages of history
in the future.

Well, that is about all the news. I'll be here
until August 4th, after which time I don't know
where I'll be. Better send mail to T. M. V. 526,
until further notice and don't forget to put on
Convois Automobiles. My mail will be for-
warded to me.

I am sending a couple of pictures of myself
along just to show what I look like on the job
and off. One was taken at the barracks at

lOo Camion Letters

T. M. V. 526. The other was taken by one of
the boys somewhere on the road to the front.
The helmet is of steel, which when near the
front, we are required to wear. The gas mask
over my left shoulder is another required appen-
dage and the map case on my right side contains
military maps of the country in which the convoy
is working. There is one of each for each family
if you wish.

Well, I must close this and get to work. I
shall write more often while here. Am enjoying
the best of health and have nothing to complain
about and everything to be thankful for. Here's
hoping this finds you all well and happy. My
love to you all.

The Writers

of the Letters are:

I-XI.

E. H. Pattison, Cornell.

XII-XIII.

J. L. RoTHWELL, Cornell.

XIV.

H. Byrd, Washington.

XV.

E. I. TiNKHAM, Cornell.

XVI.

D. HiNRiCHS, Cornell.

XVII.

A, Sherry, Cornell.

XVIII.

R. E. Mackenzie, Cornell.

XIX.

I. Hall, Massachusetts histitute of Tech-

nology.

XX.

R. DuRLAND, Massachusetts Institute of

Technology.

XXI-XXV.

R. A. Browning, Cornell.

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