To His Brother Mr. Wayland Jones of this City
Dear Wayland:
Your letter came some days ago just as I was going up to the front line and while there I did not have time to write anyone except to drop a note to Eva. Writing letters from here is a bad job since we cannot write the things that would be of most interest to our dear ones at home. You see the “Hun” is very smart fellow and might get on to our plans, etc., so we cannot divulge them outside.
I can tell you of some of our experiences, however. First this job is an enormous one and it was a good thing for these countries that we Americans came just when we did or else the Hun would have had this whole outfit in his pockets. The conditions are too bad to tell about but since we are here we will drive him back and then he cannot come this way again.
Our men are well and doing fine work, up to this time we have had no casualties although we have narrow calls often. Sgt. Webb (and?) one of my 2nd Lts. Holden were out on a raiding party this week and the hour was 2 a.m. (a very popular hour at this kind of work) and with buzzing over the party Sgt. Webb machine gun bullets, shells, etc., found a German Machine Gun emplacement and got the whole outfit. The Germans had fled or else had been shot and fell back to their works and Sgt. Webb got their complete equipment, guns, pistols, overcoat and all. Lt. Holden and Sgt. webb don’t know what fear is and whenever I have to go out in No Man’s Land I want some of Co. K. (to?) accompany me. They are the finest lot of soldiers in this army.
We are just back of the line now billeted in our shelter tents just out of this artillery fire where we have baths, rest and drill for another few days and then “in we go again.” At this sector the fighting since the beginning has been worse than at any point along the whole front from coast to Switzerland. Within a 5 mile radius of our front line station there have been over 200,000 men killed and the majority have been buried or dropped into shell holes all over the land. The horrible part is that during engagements when much artillery is used these shells plough up the ground and expose the bodies some of which have only been there a few weeks. The odors are awful and we who may be in the trenches or dugouts have no way of moving around to get out of this, and whenever it rains as it has been doing the past few days things are unbearable almost.
I have some German buttons we took from some of the prisoners we got on our first raid into their lines and whenever I get the chance I’ll send you some souvenirs to put in your window.
We see many many German and Allies air craft passing over most any time and I have (a?) stiff neck every night watching for a first class air fight but the aero guns on land soon begin to shell them and we don’t see a fight finished, for as soon as the German air craft receives several of our shells from below they start back tot their liens and as soon as ours receive some German shells ours come back our way and all we then get is a rain of pieces of shrapnel from away up above, when we put on our “iron hats” or crawl into our shelters at night is when the “Jerries” get in their dirty work with their bombing machines dropping bombs into towns, hospitals, military dumps, etc. We can tell quickly when he is coming as his machines make a noise just like the buzzing of a bee or yellow jacket, and then they come in waves of some 8 or 10 and several waves which is confusing to our guns, so when they are over the searchlights, very lights, rockets simply light up the whole heavens for miles and we can see the shrapnel bursting like so many stars in the night. Some fun, but awfully exciting and dangerous.
This country (not France) is very hilly and all the land is in cultivation right up to within a few miles of the fighting lines. I saw one farmer (a peasant) yesterday just as I started back to the camp from the trenches, who was quietly ploughing up a place and preparing it for planting. The big shells were falling into this field some of them not over 50 yards from him. I decided that his ears were bad. The crops are mostly grain although I have seen a few places of tobacco. They raise lots of hops and this is very interesting, the fields are prepared and each row has long poles about 30 feet high with wire supports and twine for holding up the vine, the vines look something like our “balsam” and is very hardy or tough. I don’t know what kind of a fruit or bean it is going to have but expect it will either look like a “ship” or “goat” (schooner or Boch) but even if these vines do mature I cannot understand where the beer can be made as every “Brassier” (brewery) and all the other large buildings of any size have been shot or boomed to pieces. You have never seen such sights as we have seen. A once beautiful city right near our position is now a complete ruin. I don’t believe there is even a wall over 10 feet left standing. Cathedrals, churches, city halls, fine stone homes, factories “ecoles” (schools), monasteries, and everything of any value along with many thousands of lives are piled there and the Germans are over on that side and we are over on this side and if any man from either side gets too inquisitive and shows his head over the parapet he promptly gets a hole shot into his hard head. We have to repair our barbed wire in front of our trenches and our trenches when destroyed by shell fire ayt night and whenever we or he start our night work, he and we send up all kinds of lights which illumine the whole of No Man’s Land and we all have to lay down flat on the ground until the lights go out. Last week some of the men were outside on working parties when the lights started and one poor fellow jumped to a prone position and felt something give way under one elbow and when he got up and pulled his arm out of what he thought was a mud hole he found it to be the breast of a dead German. You simply have “the creeps” when out in No Man’s Land, but since they are in a lower place than we and their part of the ground the center of the battle ground for the past 4 years and the wind blowing from our way to theirs 8 out of every 10 days, their conditions must certainly be worse than ours at any rate we send over poison gas shells all day and night and since coming into this sector he has only sent over a few shells of gas and they did very little damage.
We had to march from July 2nd for five days forced marching to get to this place. July 8th we spent marching in the dusty, hot rough roads until nearly dark when we bivouached in the grass field near a farm hut where the owners had pigs, cows, and folks all in the same house as we have about $3,000 company fund and hadn’t had a chance to buy a thing since getting into France we decided to celebrate the glorious Fourth by having barbecue so bought some pigs and butchered them and got ready for “the eats” but about the time we got ready to start the fire “Jerry” came over in force with his bombing planes and we had to put out the fire and get under cover, so packed away the pigs into our rolling kitchens and made ready to sleep to be ready for the last day’s march to this place, when we were so hungry and tired we just cut up the pigs and fried the on our Dixies, a combination boiler and fryer. The greatest trouble we have is drinking water, and I really suffer, since I don’t drink wines or the like. There are thousands of places “Estaminets” where light wines are sold. These Estaminets are the front room of most every house you pass. No wonder the country has so much trouble.
We haven’t had any mail from home in over ten days now and that was written May 10 to 21st. So you see we don’t know much about things at home. My feet and legs have been giving me trouble but have managed to keep going most all the time but I find this “no spey” sleeping on the ground on one blanket and the fact the whole of this rough life has about finished me and some times I feel that my 45 years are against me in trying to do what I have felt my Christian duty. I was told by Sir Douglas Haig when he inspected our company that I was wonderful to leave my family to bring over my company to help this cause—but asked me if I would be strong enough at my age to stand it. A few days after he inspected us Gen. Pershing came up to our place and was very nice. He certainly has “the Pep” and I believe he is the biggest General on this fighting line. He loves his men and we love him.
It may be that I will have to let some younger fellow stand this strain and come back home some day, although I would hate to have my men go into action under anyone but myself, since I have worked with them for over two years and they have made the company into the best in the whole army.
We are away from everything except soldiers, trenches and in the face of the enemy where we get no newspapers, few letters, no Canteens where we might buy cakes, crackers, candy, cigarettes, etc., have very little water to drink and rations are drawn through one of our Allies and we can’t get used to their way of feeding and drinking, but our men are brave and we all feel that we can stand anything to lick the Hun.
One of my First Lieutenants, Lt. Cooper, was taken from me yesterday and made Regimental Adjutant. Today Lt. Wiley E. Dunn was taken from me and made Battalion Machine Gun Officer. Lt. Cooper promoted to be Captain. Lt. Dunn Frist Lt. Sergt. Bob Moore has been transferred to Provost Guard at Callais. Corporal “Dug” Moss promoted to be Sergeant. Corporal Brooks made the highest grading at the Musketry School, and lots of fine marks have been made by all our company.
We will appreciate some papers from Wilson, and clippings from the Old Reliable.
Give my best regards to all my friends and with love for your sister, F. Wayland, J., and yourself.
Yours Etc.,
Lute
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