Chapters 9 & 10

July 24, 1918

I am glad when day breaks for Fritz quits shelling. We are on guard all the morning, being relieved in the afternoon by men from the first battalion, who are moving in and taking our billets. We leave these billets late in the afternoon and move a few kilometers nearer the lines (where friend and foe face each other all the time) and are billeted in small dug-outs, 12 men being assigned to each. The dug-outs having iron frames covered with sheet iron, the sheet iron being covered with dirt and camouflaged with dead bushes.
To kill or to wound any one a shell must hit directly on one of these dug-outs as they are under the level of the ground. Batteries of artillery, heavy and light, are stationed all around us, some of them firing all the time. Like the dug-outs they are concealed to keep them hid from view of enemy 'planes that come over any chance they get. The third and second platoons are stationed a few hundred yards from us, the third being assigned to billets, while the second platoon has to "dig in" (each man had to dig a hole in the ground large and deep enough to lay his body in) and put up their "pup" tents. The first platoon returns to Proven and camps in an old pasture.

July 25, 1918

A section of the fourth platoon goes up to within a few hundred yards of the front line trenches and spends the morning putting up barbed wire entanglements. The rest of the platoon goes up at night and works in the trenches where the infantry is, repairing damage recently done by German shells. I do not go on either one of these details, but remain in all day. I go over to where there are some Scotch soldiers, known as the Highlanders and talk awhile with them. They are stationed only a short distance from us in tin billets. The Highlander always wears a kilt, whether in battle or on leave. I receive two letters in the afternoon from the States. The guns continue their regular firing on the German lines.

July 26, 1918

The platoon sergeant puts me on the kitchen police for the day. The section work at their same jobs in and near the trenches. The sergeant in charge of our dug-out receives a roll of Charlotte papers from the States and they are eagerly ready by all, especially the Charlotte boys. About 11 p. m., Fritz begins shelling the light railway that is only a few hundred yards to our rear. Some of the shells burst pretty close to our dug-outs, but Fritz hasn't got our numbers yet. After he ceases firing the British artillery opens up and fires the rest of the night.

July 27, 1918

I go up with the section of the platoon that is putting up barbed wire entanglements. We start for the job at 5 a. m., riding nearly five kilometers on a light railway train. We are supposed to work until 11:45 a. m., but Fritz starts shelling a battery of guns stationed in and near the field where we are working at 10 a.m., and we leave the field and take shelter in an old shell-wrecked chateaux. We remain here until stopping time and then start back to our billets. We are all wet and muddy from falling on the west ground and jumping in shell holes when the shells fell close, to keep from being hit by pieces of shells. Reaching camp we are excused for the remainder of the day.

July 28, 1918

We get up at 4 a. m. and get ready for our day's work. After eating breakfast we march to Toronto Junction, the place we get on the light railway train, and get our morning train for the chateaux. We ride to within 200 yards of this building and get off but instead of going to our old job we march past it and cut across a large field to another railroad track which we follow for several hundred yards, finally going into a sunken bottom. I soon notice fellows asleep in holes dug back into the bank, while others are on guard. We are hailed, at a small bridge that crosses over the branch that runs through the sunken bottom by a sentinel, who says that only one man must pass over at the time and that he must stoop over as he crosses to keep from being seen by the Germans. Crossing we follow a trench that leads into another trench that is filled with English and doughboys from our own division, most of them laying under the ground in holes they have dug asleep. We come to another low place in the trench and again we have to stoop when crossing. Continuing on up the same trench we come to where the other section of the platoon is working and we begin working with them, throwing mud out of the trenches and putting in duck-boards for the doughboys to walk on. Anxious to say I have seen No Man's Land, I step on a firing base and take a look. Borrowing a pair of field glasses from an English sentinel I look over at the German trenches. Not a human being can be seen though as the Fritzies do not dare to peep over the top. Scores of British 'planes fly about over No Man's Land observing and occasionally diving on the German trenches pouring hundreds of machine gun bullets into them and rising again while the Germans use machine and anti-aircraft guns in an effort to shoot them down. The lieutenant warns us against looking upward while the Germans are shelling the British planes as there is danger of getting hit in the face and eyes by pieces of falling shrapnel. But the fellows seem to pay no attention to his warning, for every time a 'plane would draw fire they would look up at it. We do not work from 1 to 4 p. m., but are instead given that time as a rest period. We stop work for the day at 8 p. m. and start for camp. We stop at the ammunition dump where the train is supposed to meet us, and here we wait for 75 minutes, but no train shows up. In the meantime Fritz has started to shelling the roads and gradually begins shelling near this dump. Our lieutenant seeing that pretty soon Fritz will be shelling the dump gets his platoon started down the road. He was not any too soon in doing this for after we got a few hundred yards down the road shells began falling by twos and fours around this dump. We hike to camp, following the dirt road a while and then the rail track. We made a record hike, reaching camp at 11:30 p. m., sooner than we had expected to. We were all tired and hungry from the day's work and the hike, but our cook was on the job and had a hot supper prepared for us. We did not take time to wash or put our rifles in our dugouts, but threw our rifles on the ground and lined up for "chow." Each man received a mess kit full of mashed potatoes, beef steak and gravy, and hot cup of real coffee. Every one received a plenty and the cook was the talk of the platoon after supper.

July 29, 1918

The platoon is excused from duty and given the day off. After dinner our lieutenant says those that want to can get a bath in the afternoon, and when that time arrived nearly all the boys were present, glad of the opportunity to get under a shower in the morning. I take a stroll to where a battery of artillery is stationed and watch them shoot their big guns.

July 30, 1918

We get up at 2 a. m. and get an early breakfast, then go to Toronto Junction and catch our morning train to the ammunition dump. From there we hike back to our same place in the trenches and continue putting down duck-boards. Fritz shells a clump of woods a short distance off, trying to put some British guns concealed there out of action. British planes fly over the trenches all day as usual, observing and seeing that German 'planes keep back behind their own lines. We rest four hours after dinner and stop work at 8 p. m. On our way back to the ammunition dump we stop and watch an air battle between British and German 'planes. One of the 'planes is shot down in flames after a few minutes' fighting. We ride from the ammunition dump back to Toronto Junction and then make a short cut across a field to our dug-outs.

July 31, 1918

We are given another day of rest, so in the morning I take a nap and in the afternoon stroll about. I go to a place about two kilometers away where a battery of British heavy artillery is stationed, but this battery is not firing. While there two German observation 'planes fly overhead. The sentinel lends me his field glasses and I take a look at them as they are overhead. No one moves while they are near for fear of giving the battery's position away to the German 'plane. After the Germans have recrossed their own lines the officer in charge of the battery tells the sentinel to make me beat it. The British are very careful who comes about their guns as there are lots of spies scattered throughout Belgium. Coming back to the dug-outs I stop a while with the second and third platoons and have a talk with some of my friends. At midnight we listen to scores of German 'planes pass over going to the rear to bomb the villages and towns.

August 1, 1918

In the morning we receive orders to return to Proven. The fourth platoon marches to the main road and there waits for the second and third platoons to come up, which they are not long in doing. By dinner we have our "pup" tents pitched under a row of large trees in a large lot. Holes have already been dug and we go in search of straw and grass to put in them to make the beds softer. The first platoon moves to a place near Ypres to do front line work. The lot we are in is about a kilometer from the town. We are here, according to one of the officers, to receive some important training. At night several of the fellows visit the town, but there is nothing new here to be seen. German 'planes pass over about 10:30 p. m. headed toward Calais.

August 2, 1918

The company drills in the morning in a new battle formation. Our battalion major is on the drill field all the morning watching us drill and suggesting certain things in regards to the drills. At 2 o'clock in the afternoon I am sent by one of the platoon lieutenants to locate the first platoon and get the payroll, so the rest of the company can sign it. All the information I get is that the platoon is northwest of Ypres. It rains all the afternoon and I get soaking wet even though I have a raincoat on. I pass through the town of Vlamertinghe, a town that was once prosperous, but has been destroyed by the Germans. Not a building remains unhit, nor does any of them stand at all, but lay in complete ruins. Even the church has been destroyed by the German shell fire. Reaching the suburbs of Ypres I begin my search for the first platoon by asking some British artillerymen if they have seen any American engineers about, but I can find no trace of the platoon. I ask several other artillerymen, but none of them seem to know anything about any American engineers. I then start through the shell wrecked town. Ypres is in a still worse condition than Vlamertinghe, everything being shot down by the Germans after they had failed to capture the town. The large church lies in ruins, as well as all the other buildings. There are thousands of soldiers in and around the town, but only a few can be seen, as they live in dug-outs for protection against shells that almost constantly come over. Going to where I espied a group of English soldiers I inquire of them whether they have seen any American engineers working or stationed anywhere near. One of them takes me into a dug-out and luckily I run across a sergeant out of another company of the regiment that I knew. He tells me to continue on through the town and take the main road that I will be bound to run in. At this instance one of the English non-coms says he will have an orderly go with me to the road spoken of. Thanking the sergeant for his information I follow the English orderly. Getting in sight of the road, the orderly, who has a wheel with him, leaves me. I knew that I would be unable to reach proven before morning, so I took my time in leaving Ypres. I stopped and looked at several buildings and note the damage done. While I am looking at one of the buildings that I judged to be a school or college Fritz starts to shelling and I make haste to get out and as far away from the town as possible. Not a human can be seen anywhere in any direction, and I went down the road scared scaredless fearing that any minute a shell would make the end of me and that no one would ever know what had happened. Two shells burst in rapid succession a few hundred yards back on the same road I am on, and I fall flat to keep from being hit by any stray piece of flying shell. But no "pid iron" (soldiers nickname for shell and shrapnel) falls near me, so I get up and resume my way, going faster this time than I did before. I reach a point in the road barricaded with trees and barbed wire and guarded by English soldiers. They seem to be suspicious of me, thinking perhaps that I was after information for the Germans, but they let me go on telling me to turn to the right and follow the trench that runs that way. The trench is full of mud, but pretty soon I congratulate myself on having its protection, for the German artillery gets reckless and sends shells in every direction. After traveling down the trench a good distance I meet another group of Englishmen who tell me where I can find some American engineers. Thinking that at last I had found the train of the platoon I am looking for, I follow the directions given and cut across a large field and go to a small hillside, where I find a platoon of engineers but from another company. They were unable to give me any information so I leave there following a dirt road a while and then striking a railroad. After going a little over a kilometer I sight two large buildings to my right with soldiers walking about and I head for them. The buildings are used as brigade headquarters for two English brigades that are in the lines. They are unable to give me any information and I give up the search until morning. I get a hot supper and a place to sleep for the night at one of the buildings. Before going to bed I hang my clothes on a chair before the fire, so they will dry by morning. 

August 3, 1918

It is 10 o'clock in the morning before I leave the brigade headquarters and continue my search. An English lieutenant wants to know why I haven't got my rifle and bayonet and ammunition along with me and I tell him I wasn't ordered to bring them when I left Proven. He tells me to bring them along the next time I am sent on an errand, but I decide not to let there be a next time if there's any possible way to get out of it. Another lieutenant sent for me and I go to his office. He shows me a little dot on a map and tells me that is the place the platoon I am looking for is stationed. He gives me a slip of paper with some figures on it as my guide and I start out with a determination to find this platoon before I return to Proven where the rest of my platoon is camped. After walking for nearly three hours I reach a large chateaux, the place the platoon was supposed to be, but find instead a few Royal engineers (English) who are maintaining telephone service for the artillery in the vicinity. Failing to find any one among them who knows anything about any American engineers, I continue on down the road. Coming to a crossroads I inquire of a group of Belgian soldiers which road leads to Proven, but none of them can understand or speak the English language. One of them carried me before their commanding officer, but he is as ignorant of English as the enlisted men were. I see it is for me to decide, so I take the road that runs straight ahead. Having a few francs in my pocket I stop at a Belgian kitchen about a kilometer down the road and buy some bread and jam, which I soon get rid of. Late in the afternoon I run across a column of our doughboys on the march and from them I learn the way back to Proven. I am only a short distance from Dirty Bucket, one of the places I pass through on my way to Ypres. Reaching Dirty Bucket I go in a British canteen and spend my last two francs for a cup of tea and some sweet biscuits. Unexpectedly I meet an old friend, who had transferred from the company while we were stationed at Camp Sevier into the infantry. Darkness finds me still in the canteen talking to this friend of mine. But I leave soon after darkness and start for "home," taking the same road from Dirty Bucket back to Proven as I did coming up. But when I was headed for Ypres I got a ride in an ambulance for part of the way and when I come to a cross-roads it is hard for me to tell which one to take. I reach Poperinghe late in the night, but continue on my way to Proven without stopping as I had planned to, where the first battalion was stationed. Fritz is shelling the town (Poperinghe) and the roads that lead into it. I skip the town by taking a small road that leads around it for about a half a kilometer. It makes me think of home when I hear the screaming shells burst in the distance.

August 4, 1918

I reach Proven at 3 o'clock in the morning and after telling the cooks who I am I go in the kitchen tent to get something to eat. Being forbidden to strike a match for fear of letting a German 'plane know we are stationed here, I have a hard time for a while of finding anything that can be eaten without cooking. When I do finally find some cheese, jam and bread I satisfy my hunger. Taking part of a loaf of bread, a can of jam and a large piece of cheese, I go out to the water wagon and fill up. When I am through there is very little of anything left of what I took out. Eight a. m. I report to the lieutenant that had sent me on this trip the results of my research and find out that the payroll was brought in by one of the first platoon men shortly after I had left. The lieutenant was glad to see me back safe and sound he said. He said he thought that I had been wounded, as I stayed away so long. My platoon sergeant puts me on kitchen police in the afternoon.