Friday, March 8, 2019

Lt. Lyday Shares His Experiences in France, March 7, 1919

From the Brevard News, March 7, 1919

Experiences of a Soldier in France

Following is a letter to Dr. and Mrs. W.M. Lyday from their son, Lieut. C.E. Lyday, who is with the “Wild Cat” Division, giving his activities from the time he entered the training camp:

August 7, 1918—Left Camp Mills at 10 a.m., the hottest day that New York has recorded, and marched to Garden City, L.I., with a pack on our backs, where we entrained for Long Island City. We then took a ferry to Bush Terminal docks, which is the largest dock we have in the U.S., 1512 feet long. Arrived there at 12 o’clock and were given crackers, cheese, doughnuts, and iced coffee by the Red Cross. We just layed around there until about 4 o’clock when we were loaded on a boat, which was an old time British freighter, now used for a transport, named the Nestor. It took quite some time for us to get straightened out after we were on board but managed to get a pretty good sleep the first night.

Aug. 8th, 1918—Ship sailed at about 1 o’clock in a convoy of 15 ships, among which was the Empress of Russia with 500 Red Cross Nurses. There were flying machines, and three dirigibles accompanying us for some distance out and just before leaving the harbor we saw the last American girl in a row boat. It was rather late in the afternoon when we saw the good old Statue of Libertyi.
We had a very nice time of it for the first three days out but I was one of the lucky ones, I wasn’t sick, although a great many of the officers and boys were sick. Owing to the rough sea all officers were in charge of the decks occupied by the enlisted men so to look after the sick ones.

There was nothing seen by any of the officers or boys until the morning of the 13th when we sighted two very large icebergs off the coasts of Greenland.

There were about 150 officers and 3,000 soldiers aboard our ship and one night, owing to being all tired from not getting any sleep, the firemen refused to work. Of course the boys volunteered and a certain number were picked and they fired all the way over. At one time we were about 65 miles behind the rest of the convoy, but that was before the soldiers started firing. One day was pretty foggy and the cruiser had to fire two shots to let us know in what direction they were. The next day a tanker directly in front of us fired one shot into the water which we never found out the meaning for.

On the night of the 16th we saw a ship to the right of us and signaled it, and they refused to return the signal and our torpedo boat went to it and then returned the following morning; there was something else we never found out about.

The night of the 17th, our destroyer started on its way back to the good old U.S., and as she passed us she raised Old Glory and believe me, there was some hollering.

The next noon we were met by three small torpedo boats to escort us into England. Then our torpedo boat left us and headed back to the U.S. and she raised her flag as she passed.

We arrived in Liverpool, England at about 10 o’clock the night of the 19th and stayed on the ship until the following day and disembarked at about 10:30 a.m. We then hiked through the streets of Liverpool to the Union Station where we were met by a British band consisting of all small boys and they played the Star Spangled Banner and quite a few other very popular songs among the soldiers. 

The Red Cross then served us with hot coffee and crackers and then we entrained for an English Rest Camp.

Aug. 21st 1918—Arrived at Romsey, England at 6 o’clock in the morning and hiked four miles to Camp Woolsy and if that is the idea of a rest camp, take me home. While we were there, which was only two days, all we had was two meals a day and these were mighty poor. Although we were very fortunate in obtaining a bath at this place which was sure appreciated.

Aug. 23rd 1918—We left Camp Woolsy at 9 o’clock in the morning and started on a 20 mile hike with pack to Southampton stopping at a sailors rest camp at noon for our lunch, which consisted of cold “Bully Beef” (otherwise known as canned Corn Beef) and hard tack for lunch. Rested there about 25 minutes, then continued our march and passed through Southampton where we were greeted by the people with “Good Bye-e-e-e’ whereas in the States they gave us, or at least threw us a kiss sometimes would say “God Bless You.” At about 5 p.m. we embarked at the English Channel harbor on the ship “Queen Alexandrea,” arriving in Cherbourg, France the following morning and disembarked at 7 o’clock and hiking seven miles to another “English Rest Camp” named Camp Neirlavelle and then had our first meal in France, which was mighty poor. Our greeting there was “Une penny, Une penny.” That was our first French town and it looked as though the people built it and then moved away (rather lonesome like). That night we sure did appreciate the good beds because the night before we had slept right on top of each other all the way over the channel.

Aug. 24th 1918—Hiked to Cherbourg, at which place we boarded our first Side Door Pulman, our new destination not known to us. We passed through Caon, Mantee, Versailles, Chartes, LeMans and then to St. Nazzare, we were on the train two days and one night. We detrained at St. Nazzare and hiked six miles to Camp No. 1 and believe me it was a happy bunch when we landed there instead of having to go four miles to Camp No. 2. If you will look up the dimensions of one of those French box cars you will see that we had to sleep one on top of each other. Here is where we slept on bunks made in the “Chicken Coop” style, four to a bunk. After our company dug trenches or rather ditches over most of the camp and covered two barracks with tar paper, we found that they had enough rest and made ready to move.

Sept. 2nd 1918—Leaving on about 30 minutes notice we hiked back to St. Nazzare and to the Railroad Station, where we entrained in small French compartment cars to Tonnere, but passed there by mistake at an earlier hour than we expected to arrive and had to hike 14 long miles without a bit of water in our stomachs or canteens, arriving at Tonniere at 2 p.m. to have another meal of Bully Beef, after eating it for two days while on the train, but were again fortunate in being able to get a bath.

Sept. 3rd, 1918—On account of the town of Tonnere being to small to hold all of the train the Ambulance Companies moved to a smaller town by the name of Dannemoine, where the people sure did treat us fine with their old wines and old fashioned French dishes. We had quite a few boys sick in this town and we lost one of our boys there with the Spanish Influenza.

To Be Continued Next Week

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