JULY 4, 1915
Several American journalists, “May their tribe increase!” among them Mr.
Grundy, of the New York Sun; Nabob Hedin, of the Brooklyn Eagle; Mr.
Mower, of the Chicago Daily News; Mr. Roberts, of the Associated Press,
and Wythe Williams, of the New York Times, presented a petition to the
Minister of War for the Americans to celebrate Independence Day in
Paris. It was granted. The good news made a bigger noise on the front
than the heaviest bomb that ever fell. It did not seem possible,—too
good to be true!
Previously, no one, French or foreigner, soldier or officer, had been
allowed to leave his post. From then on, everyone received his regular
furlough at stated intervals—more liberal as danger lessened. Now, each
man is granted ten days every four months.
[Illustration]
Evening of July 3d I was on guard in front of Fort Brimont, three
kilometers from Rheims, when Dubois put his head around a corner and
yelled, “Come on, we are going to Paris.” I paid no attention to him. I
had not asked for a furlough, and, of course, did not expect any.
A few minutes later Dubois roared, “Come on, you fool, don’t you know
enough to take a furlough when you can get one? All Americans can go to
Paris.” When the corporal came around I asked to be relieved, went to
the captain and was told we had forty-eight hours permission; to pack up
at once and go.
We walked through the communication trenches to battalion headquarters
among falling shells. These made Dubois stop and say: “Damn it, it would
just be my luck to get killed now; I would not mind if I were coming
back from Paris, but if the Boche get me now I shall not be able to rest
in my grave.”
At the battalion headquarters we were lined up in the darkness. An
officer with a flashlight read off the names. Each man stepped out and
received his furlough as his name was called. The officer stopped
reading, Dubois still stood in line. Then he stepped up, saluted, and
asked for his furlough. There was none.
It was a dramatic moment. Sergeant Bouligny came out from the darkness,
and a spirited argument occurred between him and the officer. The
American sergeant then came over to Dubois and said: “It’s a damned
shame. They held that five years (suspended sentence for sleeping, when
lost by a patrol in ‘No-Man’s-Land’) over you. Now, man to man, I want
you to promise me you will go right back to your company. I told them
you would. I stood good for you. The colonel must sign that furlough. He
is not here and we can’t do a thing to help you.” It was sad. The poor
fellow was crushed. We walked away, leaving him in the darkness with his
bitter thoughts.
We arrived at Thill near midnight and were depositing our equipment at
the guardhouse when a guard came and said to me: “The sentinel wishes to
see you.” I went out and there was old Tex Bondt! “Yes,” he said, “I am
sentinel tonight. Last night I was in prison. This is it, the prisoners
are out working. I drew eight days for trying to be reasonable. Reason
is all right in its place, but not in the army. They nearly worked me to
death. We were carrying timbers to the front line to make dugouts—three
men to a stick. I was in the middle and I am six foot three!”
Next morning Bouligny and I tried to find some breakfast. The town was
deserted, badly shot-up. Stores were empty, civilians gone. Prospects
looked bad, when a gunny-sack was drawn back from a doorway, and a voice
yelled out, in English: “Here, where in the devil are you fellows going?
Come up and have a cup of coffee.” It was Tony Pollet, of Corona, New
York.[D]
-----
Footnote D:
In October, 1917, dressed in the French uniform, I was walking up the
street near the Grand Central Station, New York. A civilian accosted
me in French. We conversed in that language for some time. He worked
the third degree, asked about Battalion D, and mentioned several names
of men I knew. I turned on him and said, “You must have known Tony
Pollet.” The civilian stopped short, finally found his voice, and
gasped out, “Pollet?—that’s me!”
-----
In the early morning we walked fifteen kilometers to the railroad and
waited for the other Americans to arrive. Capdeville found some grease.
Sweeney went to a French camp and talked some potatoes from them. So we
ate “French fried,” with wine, till the train started for Paris.
Dr. Van Vorst was ranking officer, but Morlae and Sweeney sparred for
ground. Said Morlae to Delpeshe: “You do that again and I will turn you
over to the gendarmes.” Delpesche replied: “Who in hell are you? I am
taking no orders from you. I belong to Sergeant Sweeney’s section!”
Soubiron had the time of his life. He rode down on the foot-board of the
coach. He was determined not to miss the green fields, the lovely
flowers and the smiles of the girls, as they wished the Americans “Bon
Voyage.” Everything was beautiful after the drab and dirt of the front.
On the platform at Paris the two sergeants were still disputing. A
petite Parisienne stepped up to Sweeney, saying: “Pardon, Monsieur, you
came from near Rheims; did you see anyone from the 97th Regiment on the
train?” The 97th had been badly cut up. Sweeney remembered that. In an
instant his face changed. He smiled back at the girl and answered: “No,
there were no French permissionaires; only Americans were on the train.”
Two days later each man was relating his experiences:
=The base-ball man from San Francisco=: “Yes, I arrived in Paris without
a sou. I saw you fellows scatter in all directions, and did not know
what to do with myself. Two French ladies came along and invited me home
with them. They paid all my expenses and gave me this five franc note
and a sack of food to eat on my way back.”
=Percy=: “That New York Sun man, Grundy, found five of us at the Cafe de
la Paix. He ordered dinner. It cost him 120 francs. That was the best
dinner I ever ate, but, Lord, I wish I had the money it cost!”
=Nelson=: “Yes, my patron almost threw a fit when I blew in, but the
best of the house was at my service, good bath, clean underclothes—don’t
know where they came from, or whom they belonged to. But they insisted
on my keeping them.”
=Morlae=: “Yes, I was up at the Embassy, saw Frazier and he told me....”
=Bob Scanlon=: “My friends were out of town but left word that I should
have the best there was. So I went up to Place Pigalle and inquired for
a girl I knew, Susie, and they fished out a man six foot high!”
=Dowd=: “Yes, that Frenchman was splendid. When he learned we were
Americans he invited us to the banquet given by the American Chamber of
Commerce at the Palais d’Arsay. There was just one table of us soldiers
of the Legion and two long tables of men from the American Ambulance.
The Frenchmen were glad to see us—the Ambulance men did not seem glad at
all.
“‘How is that,’ said an American visitor, speaking to a well-dressed,
manicured doctor, ‘are there many Americans in the Legion?’
“‘I don’t know.’
“‘Well, aren’t there a good many of our boys there?’
“‘There may be, but, of course, WE don’t know them.’”
=Idaho Contractor=: “Yes, you fellows can talk about what you ate. When
I got over to Place Clichy, it was 9 o’clock. Madame was closing up—all
she had left was beans and vinegar. I had had no vinegar for ten months.
Beans must be bad for the stomach. My appetite went wrong just the time
I needed it most. I did not enjoy myself at all.”
=Van Vorst=: “Yes, I went over to Pickpus and saw the American
Ambulance. They looked very nice and clean but did not recognize the
dirty soldiers from the Legion, but the French officers did.”
=Bouligny=: “I missed everything, did not know there was anything doing
any place. Thought the 4th was on Sunday; didn’t know they were holding
4th on the 5th.”
=Narutz=: “Yes, I had a bully time. Met some old friends at the American
Express Company’s office.”
=Seeger=: “I heard Sweeney was promoted to a lieutenancy.”
=Capdeville=: “What do you think I am carrying this American flag for?
Of course, I am going to use it.”
=Delpesche=: “What are all you fellows carrying in those packages? You
look like a lot of farmers who just received a consignment from
Sears-Roebuck.”
=King=: “Yes, we bought this dollar stuff cheap, just 98 cents and
freight.”