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Saturday, January 26, 2019

Benjamin Butler Writes From the Front, Jan. 25, 1919


From The Pinehurst Outlook, Jan. 25, 1919

Letter From the Front

November 25, 1919
Dear Isabelle:

Thank you very much for the socks. I needed them very much and they were most welcome. We have been too busy to write very much of late but now the rush is over and the war too I trust. I do not see how Germany can start it again for a few years at least. If the peace terms are right she can never start it again. I only hope there is no sentiment mixed up in them and that they bleed her to the last drop. That is the only peace that will be lasting. Germany has not essentially changed her nature by the revolution, or uprising, or whatever it is. I personally think it is a blind that the Royalists are putting up to try and bluff the allies into helping the “Republic of Germany” to sand on its feet. Believe me, these Huns, from the privates to the generals, are all the same breed, and they hate the allies with a hate beyond all understanding. To the very last minute of the war they pillaged and burned. All with the same blind, wanton abandon that they have used since the beginning. They got out of this war too easy, and they are going to do everything in their power to follow up the advantage. All the territory that the French and British take from them, and all the indemnities we can heap upon them, will not be enough to atone for the wrong they have done France. It will take generations and generations to put the French nation where she was before this war, and even then the lives cannot be made good, nor will the people that have spent four years under the German regime ever be the same. Their souls have been wrung dry.

I had a rather interesting experience the other day. I was the first American to enter Laon. They have me a regular ovation. I was bringing up a crowd of repatriated civiles we had taken from the towns in the line and I never before felt so like a savior. The people seemed to look to us as Gods. Our word on a subject was law. As an example: I brought up the first contingent of about 70 or so. The convoy was made up of French trucks and our ambulances and I was guiding them into the suburbs of Laon at about 9 or 10 o’clock in the evening. It being a moonlight night a few avions came over from Germany and playfully started to drop some bombs around. The civiles were scared blue and as we were stopped at the time waiting for repairs on the road I feared a stampede. The only thing I could think of to tell them was that the noise they took to be bombs falling was only a 75 battery the other side of the hill firing at the Bosch. Would you believe it! They quieted right down and said they hoped they were killing some Germans! That first night was very interesting. When I got back to the cantonment I found that the Boches had put mines in a lot of the buildings and all night sections of the town and surrounding country were going up in the air. It made quite a lullaby, especially as you expected the next one would go off under you. Another time, a day or so later, we got a call about 10 o’clock at night to send a car to Liesse to get two sick civiles. I had no idea how near the lines the place was, except that the Germans had held it in the morning. The Lieutenant said I had better go with his driver, so off we went. The only thing of interest on the road was a Hun munition dump full of gas shells that they had thoughtfully mined in their retreat so that it went off in sections for several days, thereby filling the adjoining road with an assortment of gasses,. We got through that O.K. I noticed that there did not seem to be much night life in the streets. In fact, I did not see a soul. That is, as a rule a rather bad sign in a town near the lines. When we were about a third of the way into the town a man came out of a hole in the ground and hopping on the running board directed us to the house of the evacues. We got our load and started back. Very quiet and peaceful. I quietly asked the gendarme who had directed me how far the lines were. He pointed to a little wood on the left of the town and said the Germans were over there, 150 meters from there! I told the driver to chase right along and not to honk his horn. We got back without incident. It gave me rather a thrill, however, to have been that close to the retreating Huns.

I am very keen on the French, and have more friends among the Division than I have among the Americans. I am so sorry that my assignment to the French aviation fell through. If I had stayed out of the army only a month longer I would have been able to make it. As it was, just at the time I went for my final papers the service was closed to Americans. Most of my friends went into the Red Cross, and afterwards transferred to the French artillery. A good many of them have been killed, but it is a wonderful branch of the service. My mathematics would have been too weak to have made the grade. Any way, the war is over and soon I trust the dear old pines of North Carolina will wave over me.
Has Edith been established in Pinehurst yet? I know that she will have a good time there. What fun to be all together that way! Is your little tin Lizzy still marching? When I get back I can make it run without the motor, wheels, or anything else. To tell the truth, I am a bit sick of Fords. I have Sous Officer Mechinition for the last year and the sight of a Ford motor I take as a personal insult. I have learned though how to put the darned things together and make them run on the least number of parts. In fact, it is a constant source of surprise to me when a car goes out and comes back again without aid of another car to tow it. You should see some of the accidents we have had! Driving at night without lights on roads that are so full of traffic that it would be hard to thread your way through in the day time. We get cars that at first inspection look as if the radiator had been pushed out the back door. The mec. comes along with a few tools, spare parts and WIRE, and ties it up again.

Well, Isabelle, Old Dear, I think I will say good bye, as I have to make a trip to find a place for the men that have the itch to bathe. Loads of love to all, as ever, yours,

Benjamin F. Butler
S.S.U. 622, Par B.C.M.
Convois Auto, France


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