Wednesday, January 30, 2019

Alex Willson's Letter Home Published Jan. 30, 1919

From the French Broad Hustler, Hendersonville, N.C., Jan. 30, 1919

Interesting Soldier Letter

The following letter from France, written by Alex Willson to an uncle in Pittsburg, will be of interest to many people in Henderson County, not only from a personal standpoint but from the fact that the letter is in itself a vivid description of some of the things the boys have faced in driving the Hun before them. Young Willson, who is a son of J.R. Willson of Hendersonville, volunteered early in the game, enlisting at Pittsburg in May 1917 and being assigned to the 15th Engineers, 28 Division. He sailed from New York for Liverpool in July of the same year, thus being one of the first 30,000 that were the advance guard of the big army that Uncle Sam finally put into France and Belgium (and Germany). The letter follows:

December 8th, 1918
Dear Uncle Frank:

I returned last night from a two weeks furlough and found your letter written from Cumberland. Your letter was rather late in reaching the company owing to the fact that you omitted the “company B” part of the address and as much of the regiment has been scattered all over France it went to Regimental Headquarters first.

I spent eight days at Aix-les-Bains in Savo among the French Alps, one of the most famous resorts in the world, I believe. It was rather quiet at this season but the scenery of course was even more beautiful owing to the fact that the mountains were snowcapped which certainly gave a colorful effect in the sun-light. I spent seven days traveling during which time I visited Lyons, Barleduc, Verdun and Paris. Paris was in gala dress on account of the King and Queen of Belgium being there at the time. They are planning to give President Wilson a celebration, the likes of which the world has never seen. Verdun was quite a contrast from Paris. I gave been in Verdun before but I never had much time to go over the city. Everything in the city, of course, is wrecked. The cathedral is not damaged as bad as it might be—in fact I think most of the sculpture is saved. The citadel is the most wonderful thing I have seen. It is said that at one time in and around Verdun there were 500,000 men underground.
I won’t attempt to go into details of all my wanderings since leaving the State as that would make a regular book. I have it all written down however and if you should ever care to read it, I will be glad to show it to you.

Briefly:--We left New York on board the R.N.S. Baltic on the 9th day of July, 1917. Eleven days later after an uneventful voyage we landed in Liverpool, England, and entrained for Borden near Aldershot in the Salisbury Plains and spent several days in that country. England was beautiful at that time of year. Her famous rose gardens were in bloom.

We sailed from Southhampton to LeHavre and from there to Vierzon (ches) where we stayed a month. At Vierzon the regiment was split up and my company was sent up into the Meuse near Bar-le-duc a short distance behind the French lines where we built barracks for the men who were to come after us. From there we come back after short stops in several other places around Neuf chateau to Jonchey near Chaumont. Haut Marne where we started a large railroad yards and Ordnance station. We stayed in that mud hole 10 months and it was anything but pleasant. The work was hard and the winter cold. While there I was sent to the hospital with pneumonia and while there contracted an abscess in the ear that looked for a while like as mastoid. All together I stayed in the hospital three months. On August 6th, we left for the front where we have been ever since. After we reached the front we lived just like “doughboys”—all we had with us was what we could carry on our backs every where we went we hiked—on few occasions we road in trucks. We put in the tracks for the big railroad guns at Ansanville where the barrage was fired from on the start of the drive on Mount Sec. It rained all the time we were there which was unpleasant to work in but very lucky for our skins—because the last afternoon we were there the sun came out for an hour or so and as we were working in full view of Fritz’s observers it wasn’t long before he was dumping some nine inch H.E. shells on the job. There was a high wind tho and his aim was bad because he didn’t harm a man. We hiked out of town that night at midnight with the American barrage banging away right over our heads. We arrived in Commercy the next day, and the next morning started repairing the railroad into St. Mihiel. The Germans were still holding the hills outside of the city and one day we worked on the track where we could see the mounted guard when he came round the hill. I guess they were too busy figuring how to get away to bother us. From St. Mihiel we hiked to Clermont where we laid in the Argonne woods waiting for the battle to open. The barrage that opened that “drive up” the valley of the Aire was the greatest in the history of the war. As soon as the Germans commenced their famous retreat, why we started our railroad behind the infantry. Our surveying detail was working in advance of us and I think they spent as much time in dugouts as any place else as Fritz made it pretty warm for them. We didn’t have any trouble until we got to Varennes. At Variennes we were climbing the road around the hill when one of Fritz balloons evidently saw us. I never had as much pig iron flying over my head before. We went around behind the hill and dug places in it for our pup tents. Fritz shelled the road just beyond the foot of the hill for two or three days and there were eight American 155s (6 inch) firing right over our kitchen so taking it altogether had a rather noisy time for a while. After the guns moved up why it was fairly quiet until the moon reached its full phase and then “Jerry” as the German bombers are called started paying us nocturnal visits and of all uncomfortable feeling—why the worst I think is to be in a peep tent in the dark waiting for a dozen or so Boche planes to drop their end gates and unload a few tons of bombs.

We had a night engine crew working at Varennes one night and they didn’t notice the anti-craft search lights until the planes were right over them popping away with their machine guns. The crew dived under the coal car—but left a lantern hanging on one of the cars. One of the planes dropped a bomb which struck the coal car on the curved part of the water tank in such a manner as to bend the firing pin and instead of exploding and making a hole in the ground big enough to swim in it passed right thru the bottom of the car and into the ground about 6 feet from where our men were lying.

After Fritz started his wild scramble to get back to his dear old “Faterland” we moved to the railroad connecting ‘Verdun and Metz, on the day the armistice was signed. We camped for a while just between the famous forts of Verdun near what is called “dead man’s valley.” That section is a perfect picture of utter destruction. Not a tree or wall is standing. The ground is strewn with miles and miles of barbed wire and in lots of places with piles of bones of the unburied dead. It is said the Kron Prince lost 600,000 men in the one drive there and the goodness knows how many Frenchmen died there. We worked up to Etain, living in German dugouts. At Etain I went on my leave, I had intended to come back through Metz when I returned but at Bar-leDuc I learned that the company had moved so I came by trucks to Verdun and from there to Stenay where I’m writing from. The regiment is mobilized here and we are moving probably tomorrow up nearer to Luxemburg. They have sent back for our luggage that we left behind when we came to the front. Whether that means we are getting ready to come home or to go on into Germany with the Army of Occupation is the burning question of the hour.

This is quite a book I have written but in your last letter you asked me to tell you about my work which I was not at liberty to tell you at that time.

I will write you again later on a different subject on which I want your advice. I am feeling well.

This kind of life naturally makes a man tough. I have on occasions laid my blankets down in the mud and rain and slept as soundly as I ever did in 1901 Shady Avenue. Hope you are all well and your new business prosperous. Marie sent me a picture of the reunion.
I have two letters from her which I answered.

Affectionately yours,
Alex
Co. B. 15th U.S. Eng., American E.F.

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