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 CAMION LETTERS 
 
 FROM 
 MEN IN THE AMERICAN FIELD SERVICE 
 
 
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 CAMION LETTERS 
 
 FROM 
 
 MEN IN THE AMERICAN FIELD SERVICE
 
 CAMION LETTERS 
 
 
 FROM AMERICAN COLLEGE MEN 
 VOLUNTEER DRIVERS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 AMERICAN FIELD SERVICE 
 IN FRANCE, 1917 
 
 Duly, and the bit more which counted . . , 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
 191S
 
 Copyright. 1918 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
 
 Published January, 1918 
 
 TMI OUINM * BOOIN CO. fflIM 
 RAHWAY, X. I.
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 This is a volume of letters written by young 
 Americans who as members of the American 
 Field Service volunteered to drive the heavy 
 transport trucks, or camions, of the French Army. 
 Most of the letters are from the Cornell men 
 who formed the larger part of the first section 
 of drivers assigned to the transport work. The 
 straightforward letters are self-explanatory, but 
 it is in place to introduce them by a few words 
 telling of the way the Service engaged in the 
 transport of war materials. 
 
 The record of the American ambulances in 
 France is well known. Friends of France, Am- 
 bulance No. 10, and the Diary of Section VIII 
 have given to English-speaking readers the story 
 of young American volunteers in France doing 
 their duty to the cause they had voluntarily 
 chosen and doing it so well as to win for them 
 citation after citation in the French orders of 
 the day, and the Croix de Guerre that often ac- 
 companied the citation. More than one hundred 
 
 v
 
 vi Camion Letters 
 
 young American collegians wear this simple cross, 
 which comes to no recreant. That these young 
 men were representative of the Service is proved 
 by the fact that French Generals vied among 
 themselves to have the American ambulanciers 
 attached to their divisions. It is a record of 
 which the Service is proud and of which America 
 may well be proud. 
 
 In May, 191 7, the Paris authorities of the 
 American Ambulance Field Service in France 
 were requested by the French Government to take 
 over as much as was feasible of the transport 
 work of one of the French Armies. In the French 
 forces there are 80,000 motor vehicles driven, as 
 far as France can make it possible, by men whose 
 age or physical condition unfits them for active 
 service at the front. To release these men meant 
 to replace them with American volunteers and to 
 send back one by one to their farms or to Govern- 
 mental offices veteran Frenchmen whose services 
 were needed elsewhere than on the trucks. The 
 request, highly honoring to the Service, came 
 partly as the result of the great need of the French 
 for additional camionneurs, or drivers of heavy 
 trucks, and partly because a temporary shortage
 
 Introduction vii 
 
 of ambulances threatened to leave in idleness some 
 of the young American volunteers just arriving in 
 Paris. 
 
 The Service gladly took on the new work and 
 made a prompt appeal to the men on hand. Al- 
 though they had come over to drive ambulances, 
 most of them appreciated the new need and volun- 
 teered for the transport work. A training camp 
 was at once established, and after a brief but 
 adequate period of drill in handling the heavy 
 vehicles on difficult roads, the first transport sec- 
 tion set out for the front, carrying the first Ameri- 
 can flag authorized to be borne in this war. As 
 it happened, most of the forty men in the section 
 were from Cornell, and at the head was a Cornell 
 man, Edward Tinkham, who had already won his 
 Cross of War in ambulance work by " his untiring 
 devotion under the violent fire of the enemy." 
 Conformably to its new function the Service 
 changed its name to The American Field Service 
 and sent out a call for volunteers in this country. 
 
 Naturally a transfer of so much consequence 
 could not be accomplished without some diffi- 
 culties. On the part of the volunteers it involved 
 a change of purpose not to be lightly under-
 
 viii Camion Letters 
 
 taken. Men who had gone over animated by zeal 
 to perform humane services felt that to drive 
 munition trucks was a departure from their 
 original purpose. Some solved the problem in a 
 plain, soldierly spirit, saying that what France 
 wanted was clearly the thing for them to do. 
 Others held strongly to their original idea. 
 Moreover, although prompt information of the 
 new arrangements was sent to all officers recruit- 
 ing for the Service, there was obvious difficulty 
 in getting to all the oncoming volunteers an ex- 
 plicit understanding of the new situation. A fur- 
 ther question arose in respect of those men whose 
 expenses had been contributed in whole or in part 
 during the campaign for the support of the am- 
 bulance service. Some of these men obtained 
 from the contributors permission to transfer, 
 some went on with the ambulance work, and 
 some, accepting war conditions as the supreme 
 law, transferred to the new branch, assuming that 
 their action would be approved at home, as it 
 almost invariably was. 
 
 On this side of the water a great deal of con- 
 fusion arose through misunderstandings, slowly 
 to be cleared up by incessant correspondence. In
 
 Introduction ix 
 
 general there was difficulty in realizing that the 
 Service had no control over the necessities of war, 
 and that it was trying to meet an emergency prac- 
 tically. To have answered all the incoming 
 questions fully and personally would have meant 
 a practical abandonment of the work of the Serv- 
 ice in its offices and a commandeering of all the 
 office staffs for typewriting. Printed material 
 was copiously used, however, and gradually the 
 situation cleared up. 
 
 Meantime a new trouble appeared. Of late the 
 very word ambulance had been a thing to con- 
 jure with. The desire to relieve the sufferings 
 of the wounded had a splendid emotional quality, 
 and now at the very time when ambulance deliv- 
 ery was being held up in France, American gifts 
 for ambulances poured in. It was a hard, un- 
 gracious task to be compelled to decline or post- 
 pone the acceptance of the one thing that had 
 been the very heart of the Service. It was a 
 still harder task to persuade many of the generous 
 donors that their gifts were urgently needed to 
 develop the new branch of the Service. There is 
 at first thought little spiritual appeal in a trans- 
 port truck, little call for skill and initiative on
 
 Camion Letters 
 
 the part of its driver. Yet the reverse is the 
 case. The trucks are the backbone of the army 
 and the driver pilots them over shell-swept roads 
 with all the incident risks of motor troubles. Had 
 motor car owners stopped to reflect upon what 
 their feelings would be if instead of changing their 
 tires or inspecting their spark plugs on a macad- 
 amized American road, they could see shells 
 bursting near them on a devastated highway of 
 France, they would never ask, as some did, the 
 cool question about truck driving in France, " Is 
 this the work for a patriotic American youth with 
 red blood in his veins? " 
 
 It would not be fair, however, to give the im- 
 pression that taking over the transport work 
 nullified the Service's appeal for funds. The 
 friends of the Service maintained their firm faith 
 that instead of doing something alien to its origi- 
 nal purpose the Service was only reaching out 
 and making itself even more useful to France. 
 Indeed, in some quarters a desire to contribute 
 first arose with the knowledge that our transport 
 men were bearing our flag as combatants and not 
 using the protection of the Geneva Red Cross. 
 
 But still the fact remained, and remains, that
 
 Introduction xi 
 
 the transport service makes far less an appeal to 
 the heart than to the brain, and that the heart 
 has to be touched before the purse strings loosen. 
 
 Yet this transport work of the army is an abso- 
 lutely indispensable part of the force that makes 
 for victory. The camions carry from the depots 
 to the front supplies for trench-making, road- 
 repairing, and bridge-building. They carry equip- 
 ment for the divisions, and food for the men. 
 They carry the troops themselves when reserves 
 have to be rushed to a point of attack. And 
 they carry the ammunition on which depends the 
 barrage fire and the great offensives. " An army," 
 said Napoleon, " travels on its belly." This vivid 
 statement of the imperative value of the commis- 
 sary needs now to be supplemented and enlarged 
 — even without the imperial imagery — to include 
 the transportation of all that a modern army 
 requires. 
 
 The camionneurs who carry on the transport 
 work realize the responsibility of their task, and 
 they meet its dangers as true soldiers. The 
 job is a man's job, and calls for courage as well 
 as skill. It calls for initiative in the emergencies 
 which constantly occur. It is no humdrum task of
 
 xii Camion Letters 
 
 driving heavy trucks in a slow procession along a 
 quiet road. There is nothing humdrum in driving 
 under artillery fire. It is, as the men at the 
 steering-wheels know, an imperative duty and a 
 high privilege, and there is no good quality a 
 man possesses which does not find free play in 
 the daily task. 
 
 The men in the transport branch of the Service 
 have of course written many letters home, and 
 some of these letters have been passed over by 
 their recipients to the American headquarters. 
 The letters were written without thought of pub- 
 lication, but it has seemed proper to make out 
 of them a small volume whose general purpose 
 is to make known the character and activities 
 of the transport service. The letters speak for 
 themselves, — frank, boyish recitals of daily 
 routine and of occasional exciting experience. 
 Between the lines of the letters may be clearly 
 read a heartening thing, — the growth of high- 
 spirited natures out of boyhood to a man's 
 stature. 
 
 Mabtin W. Sampson 
 Cornell University
 
 CAMION LETTERS
 
 CAMION LETTERS 
 
 r A Bord le " Chicago " 25th April, 19 if. 
 
 We are safe at last in the mouth of the harbor 
 of the Garonne. Bordeaux is about forty miles 
 up the river. We got here at ten this morning, 
 and have been anchored ever since, waiting for 
 the high tide. We hope to arrive at Bordeaux at 
 8 p. m., and at Paris some time tomorrow. 
 
 It is a great relief to be here at last, with land 
 nearby. Last night was a pretty anxious time. 
 No smoking was allowed on deck after dark, and 
 all lights were put out early. We were rather 
 lucky to get here safely, for this morning one 
 of the French officers told us that two ships near 
 us had been sunk, one by a mine, he thought, the 
 other by a submarine. There are lots of other 
 ships in the harbor, but none as big as ours. Most 
 of the ships are waiting to go through to the 
 Mediterranean, as there is a canal right across 
 the country. 
 
 3
 
 Camion Letters 
 
 The red tape has started again. This morning 
 we had to have our passports examined again by 
 some men who came on board, and we are now 
 waiting for customs officers to come and inspect 
 our bags. . . . 
 
 The inspectors have passed safely, and we are 
 on our way up the river. Flat, green meadows 
 and towns on one side, and very low white cliffs on 
 the other. The spring seems to be considerably 
 ahead of the American spring. We can see 
 the towns and the people very plainly. At pres- 
 ent we are stuck in the mud, and do not seem to 
 be able to get off. The tide is coming in, how- 
 ever, so we will be floating again shortly, I hope. 
 
 By the way, one of the ships sunk was a 
 Swedish steamer, two hours ahead of us. When 
 we got the news by the wireless the Captain 
 stopped the ship and lay quiet for an hour, then 
 went on. It is lucky now that we could not go 
 any faster, or we might have met the submarine 
 instead. We are going to spend the night in 
 Bordeaux, and go on to Paris tomorrow.
 
 Camion Letters 
 
 II, 
 
 Paris, 'April 20, 19 17. 
 
 We are now staying at the house at 21 rue 
 Raynouard. It is a very old stone building on a 
 little street in Passy, in the western part of the 
 city. The house is built right on the street, but 
 back of it the grounds run down almost a quar- 
 ter of a mile, as far as a road on the bank of the 
 Seine, so we have a beautiful view of the river. 
 All the completed ambulances are kept in these 
 grounds. Of course the grounds are not kept 
 up carefully, but they are very pretty neverthe- 
 less. They feed us here very well — much better 
 than at college. There is more than enough of 
 every kind of food except sugar and butter, and 
 we can use very little of that. When you buy 
 food here, it does not cost any more than in the 
 United States, and some things are less. 
 
 Yesterday I went down town to buy some 
 things such as duffle bag, uniform, and equipment, 
 and stopped in the Madeleine. This afternoon 
 I am going to see Notre Dame. We are in a
 
 Camion Letters 
 
 very convenient location for sight seeing, being 
 only a couple of blocks from the Metro. The 
 Eiffel Tower is less than a mile off, and there are 
 a lot of municipal buildings near it. However, 
 no one is allowed to go near it, so I have only 
 seen it from a distance. 
 
 I am getting so that I can understand French 
 a little better, but that is not very well. How- 
 ever, I do not have any trouble getting around, 
 or getting what I want to eat or buy. 
 
 I do not know when we will leave for the front, 
 but it will not be for a couple of weeks. I must 
 stop, as I want this letter to catch the " Chicago " 
 mail. 
 
 Ill 
 
 May 10, 10 17. 
 Lots of things have happened since I wrote 
 last. I am writing this from a little encampment 
 of three tents on the outskirts of a little French 
 village, near enough the front to hear the boom 
 of the guns now and then. Last Saturday (May 
 5th) the head of the Ambulance Service, Dr.
 
 Camion Letters 
 
 Andrew, got the Cornell men together and told 
 us the French needed men to drive 5-ton Pierce- 
 Arrow trucks (they call them camions), and 
 wanted us to be the first section. 
 
 The work consists of taking supplies to the 
 front where they are most needed, the section not 
 being assigned to any permanent sector, but being 
 used as a flying squadron to go where the need 
 is greatest. They gave us overnight to think it 
 over, and the next morning forty-four of us 
 volunteered for the Service. It was a lightning 
 decision, but I think I chose right. In the first 
 place, our ambulances would not have been ready 
 for a long time, and we would have had to waste 
 most of the time waiting. In the second place, 
 this Service is no more dangerous than the am- 
 bulance, and it is what the French want us to do 
 at present — they say they are up against it for 
 truck drivers, and that is why their gains have 
 not been greater. 
 
 Personally, I would rather drive a Ford than 
 a truck, but I think it's up to us to go where we 
 can help most, and it would be very hard to 
 refuse our services when the French say they 
 need us. So here I am.
 
 8 Camion Letters 
 
 We have very good food, and plenty of it. The 
 fact is, I have never had such luxuries in camp- 
 ing before. There is a little brook near the 
 camp, and we have fixed a trough for a shower, 
 so we can take a bath every little while. My 
 French is improving all the time. It is hard to 
 find time to study it, but of course we have to 
 speak it quite often, although not as much as I 
 would have expected. I can carry on a simple 
 conversation unless the Frenchman gets excited, 
 and then I lose track of what he is saying and 
 can't understand a thing. 
 
 Our training is just about over now. We start 
 in on our regular transport work early next week. 
 I don't know where we are going, and couldn't 
 tell if I did. I can't even tell where our present 
 camp is. Our address now is simply " T.M. 23, 
 Par B.C.M., Paris " but that changes soon. You 
 see we are a new organization, and I do not know 
 how they will number us. 
 
 Every cloudy night we hear the big guns very 
 clearly, and sometimes see the "star shells." 
 Aeroplanes buzz around all the time.
 
 Camion Letters 
 
 IV 
 
 May i8j 19 17. 
 
 You have probably heard from a letter I wrote 
 the family that I am not in the Ambulance Serv- 
 ice any more. A new organization has been 
 formed — The American Transport Service — the 
 official name is not certain yet. We drive 5-ton 
 Pierce-Arrow trucks — the best in the world, the 
 French say — with " supplies " for the French 
 Armies. We are shifted from one army to an- 
 other as we are needed, which means that we are 
 always at the point of the greatest activity. We 
 go as near, often nearer, the front line trenches 
 than the ambulances, have harder work, and do 
 at least as much good. At any rate, it was what 
 the French wanted us to do, and I think it was 
 up to us to do it, unless there were individual 
 reasons against it. Almost all the Cornell boys 
 are with us, all but about eight of the thirty- 
 eight. 
 
 At present we are having a wonderful life in 
 camp here. An ideal location, good tents, straw 
 to sleep on, good food and lots of it, and a little
 
 io Camion Letters 
 
 brook near by to wash in. The only drawback 
 is that we cannot make any fires, the wood is so 
 scarce, and there may be other reasons. We have 
 been having some rainy weather, and things get 
 pretty damp. However, every one seems to be 
 keeping well, and I never felt better in my life. 
 
 The people are always very much interested 
 when they hear we are Americans. They ask 
 us all sorts of questions — if we are Roosevelt's 
 army was one. I can carry on a very simple, 
 slow conversation, but when they talk fast I am 
 lost. I've learned a lot talking with the truck 
 drivers that went with us to show us how the 
 trucks went. One man had been a diamond cut- 
 ter for Tiffany before the war, and most of the 
 others were intelligent. 
 
 On some of our practice driving trips we got to 
 the old lines where the French and Germans 
 faced each other for two years. In one place 
 there had been a village, but no one would have 
 known it. The ground was all dug up with 
 shell holes, and trenches, and covered with wire 
 entanglements. We went through the German 
 positions, and saw their underground houses, 
 electric bells, and stoves and beds, just like a hotel.
 
 Camion Letters n 
 
 — — .. _ 
 
 On another trip we went to Pierre fonds, and had 
 an hour to spend going through the castle. It 
 was completely restored a few years ago, and is a 
 great sight — all thick walls, and towers and a 
 little stone staircase. Most of the rooms had sol- 
 diers quartered in them, and straw on the floor 
 to sleep on. There are soldiers everywhere. 
 Every little village is crowded with troops just 
 coming from the trenches for a rest, or going to 
 the front. 
 
 Every night we can hear the big guns very 
 plainly, especially when it is cloudy, and some- 
 times we see strings of " star shells." 
 
 It is almost time for driving. I must stop. 
 
 V 
 
 May 18, 19 17. 
 Since my last letter I have been busy learning 
 about 5-ton Pierce trucks, and I now know quite 
 a lot about one. Every day we have driving 
 lessons lasting several hours, and sometimes we go 
 to very interesting places. The other day we
 
 12 Camion Letters 
 
 went to a place where the Germans and French 
 had faced each other for two years. They 
 showed us where a village had been, but it 
 looked exactly like the country round — shell holes 
 every couple of yards, trenches everywhere, and 
 also wire entanglements. We had to be very 
 careful where we stepped, because there were 
 lots of unexploded shells and hand grenades lying 
 around, which go off very easily. The Germans 
 had been living in dug-outs in a hillside; regular 
 rooms with tin ceilings, stoves, electric bells, and 
 everything. 
 
 Day before yesterday we started at 2 p.m. and 
 went to Pierrefonds, and they gave us an hour 
 to go through the castle. It certainly is a won- 
 derful place. We ate our food outside the town, 
 and waited till dark to get practice in night driv- 
 ing without lights. It was a black, cloudy night, 
 and we found it pretty hard to keep the road and 
 our place in the convoy (we had twelve cars). 
 It had been raining, and some of the cars got 
 stuck in the mud at the side of the road, and we 
 had a hard time pulling them out. Then another 
 car ran into us from behind and smashed its radi- 
 ator. It was not the driver's fault, though, be-
 
 Camion Letters 13 
 
 cause you could not see a car three feet off. We 
 had to tow them in, and finally arrived at camp at 
 4 a. m., a little tired. They don't work us like 
 that all the time, though everybody has kept well 
 so far. I never felt better in my life, and I think 
 I am putting on a good deal of weight. 
 
 Monday we had a big banquet. Ambassador 
 Sharp and lots of high French officials were there 
 and made us speeches. 
 
 I spent Tuesday in packing up, and yesterday 
 we entrained with great ceremony and came 
 towards here as far as the trains ran, and then 
 in trucks. We are somewhere near Soissons. 
 The French treat us like princes. They give us 
 the glad hand every chance they get, and tell 
 us how glad they are we're here. The food is 
 splendid. Last night at the soldiers' mess we 
 each had more soup out of a big iron pot than 
 an ordinary family of eight will eat, half a loaf of 
 bread that must have weighed three or four 
 pounds, some meat, tea, jam, and vin rouge. 
 The food is even better than at rue Raynouard. 
 We start work on the camions this afternoon.
 
 14 Camion Letters 
 
 VI 
 
 June II, ip 1 7. 
 
 I received your letters a few days ago, and 
 was mighty glad to hear all the news from Amer- 
 ica. I'm glad things are moving fast. 
 
 We have been having some exciting times 
 lately. Last week we were on the go most of the 
 time with capacity loads of 75's shells or air 
 bombs or hand grenades, the most dangerous of 
 all to handle, as one little pin sets them off. 
 
 We have been on roads when they were being 
 shelled several times. When a shell explodes at a 
 distance it looks at first exactly like a tall, black 
 maple tree, then it becomes just a mess of smoke 
 and dust. Most of the roads are in pretty good 
 condition, as they are lined with piles of gravel, 
 and there are men who fill up the shell holes im- 
 mediately. The other day we were going along 
 when a shell destroyed a bridge a little ahead of 
 us, and we had to back up quite a way to take 
 another road. I had been the first car, so of 
 course I was the last when we backed. Our 
 camions back slowly any time, and then they
 
 Camion Letters 15 
 
 hardly seemed to move, and the worst of it was 
 to see a Frenchman stick his head out of a trench 
 every now and then to see what was going on, 
 and then duck down again. Believe me, I wanted 
 to join them. 
 
 We had a great treat yesterday. The Captain 
 let us take a camion and go to a creek a few 
 miles off for a swim. It was an ideal place, and 
 we swam and lay around in the sun all afternoon. 
 It has been hot ever since we got here, and the 
 dust on the roads often makes it as dark as night, 
 except that it is white. Of course we wear gog- 
 gles, so it does not get in our eyes, but there is a 
 crust over every part of us when we get back. 
 The work is not so very hard, especially as there 
 are two men on a camion to take turns driving. 
 
 I am Tent Police today, and must go to work. 
 
 VII 
 
 June 12, 1 917. 
 I have just returned from a short morning 
 run. They are giving us a good rest after last 
 week, when we had a long series of twelve to
 
 1 6 Camion Letters 
 
 eighteen hour trips with only a few hours between. 
 We had some experiences that were a little too 
 exciting to be pleasant. 
 
 One day we were loaded with five tons of trench 
 bombs and were getting along towards the front 
 when the Germans started shelling the road we 
 were on. I guess they saw us from one of their 
 " Sausages " (observation balloons). I was driv- 
 ing the first car. Several shells fell about three 
 hundred yards from us, and then they dropped one 
 by the road about seventy yards ahead, about ten 
 feet from a man working on the road. As we 
 went by he was lying half on his face, with his 
 head and shoulders half blown off, sort of quiver- 
 ing, although of course he was dead. We had 
 just passed him, through a little stream of blood, 
 when the section leader came along in his car with 
 orders to back up, as a bridge ahead of us was 
 destroyed. 
 
 As we started backing, another shell landed 
 about twenty yards behind us, between us and the 
 next camion (a hundred yards). A shell looks 
 very pretty a little way off, it looks like a big 
 tree, but when it gets closer than a hundred 
 yards it looks wicked, and sounds so, too, and five
 
 Camion Letters 17 
 
 tons of explosives between it and you does not 
 make it any pleasanter. Well, we backed up 
 what seemed a long way and it took a long time, 
 and had to wait for all the others to get on the 
 other road. It was funny to look down along the 
 road and see all the Frenchmen squatting in their 
 trenches, sticking their heads out every now and 
 then to see what was going on, but it about dou- 
 bled the effect of the shells on us. 
 
 There was a big ditch just at the beginning 
 of the small road, and as we were pulling through 
 it the engine stopped, although we were in low. 
 It seems that the jarring had shaken a spark plug 
 wire off. Joe Gray, the other man on my camion, 
 jumped out and cranked the engine as it had 
 never been cranked before. He almost twirled the 
 handle off. I guess cars that haven't been used 
 for years would have started from the spinning 
 he gave it. He said afterwards that he could 
 have cranked the car all the way home if he had 
 had to. Anyway, the engine went and we pulled 
 out all right, and went along hitting on only three 
 cylinders till we found a sheltered place to stop 
 in and fix it up. We had to come back empty 
 over the same road and it was nervous work
 
 1 8 Camion Letters 
 
 going there, but we were not shelled again that 
 time. 
 
 We kick sometimes against having to wear our 
 steel helmets, but they feel just about right. at 
 times like that, although I don't believe they 
 would do much good, if any, as a shell fragment 
 goes through boiler plate like water through a 
 sieve, and our helmets are pretty thin. We only 
 had a very few shells whistle that day, as the ex- 
 plosion came so soon after they had passed. The 
 nearest one was probably only a few feet over our 
 heads, and as it passed we felt the concussion of 
 the air, or something else, perhaps, that felt like 
 a light electric shock. 
 
 Several times a day we can see a lot of little 
 puffs of smoke in the sky where airplanes are 
 being fired on by one side or another. Sometimes 
 we see air battles, where the airplanes go past 
 each other several times, and try to get over or 
 under the enemy, and sail all around each other. 
 Some of the fellows saw an airplane come down a 
 few days ago, but I haven't seen that yet.
 
 Camion Letters 19 
 
 VIII 
 
 June 24, 19 17. 
 
 This letter must be short, as I " roll " in a few 
 minutes, but I will write again as soon as I get a 
 little time. I have lots of your letters — I'll tell 
 you how many next time I write, as I haven't 
 time to count them now. I hope all the foolish- 
 ness that has appeared in the papers about this 
 Service has not started you worrying. I don't 
 know what makes them print such things, or 
 where they get all their ideas from, about " As 
 the 30 Cornellians appeared in the trenches, wav- 
 ing the Stars and Stripes, the veteran soldiers 
 gave a cheer." We don't go within a mile of the 
 first line trenches, and the only danger is from 
 stray shells, and the Germans are not wasting 
 many these days. There has been only one man 
 killed in all the sectors here since we came, and he 
 was the last one of forty men going into a dug- 
 out. There isn't as much danger as there is in 
 New York City. 
 
 I think it's fine that you are growing so many 
 things to eat. It certainly will help. Personally,
 
 20 Camion Letters 
 
 I haven't seen any board shortage. We have all 
 the food, splendidly cooked, we can eat, and in 
 this camp good water to drink, which is much 
 better than the miserable " pinard " they give us. 
 It is a kind of red wine — I think a kind of 
 claret — worse than anything you can buy in the 
 U. S. At least that is what I gather from our 
 connoisseurs. 
 
 This camp is very nice. Besides plenty of good 
 water, we have long wooden barracks to sleep in, 
 which we have made water-tight with rolls of tar 
 paper. It's near a little town where we go some- 
 times, and where we can buy fresh bread, which is 
 a great treat after the army bread, which is 
 baked somewhere in the south of France, and 
 would make good, solid, car-wheels by the time 
 we get it. We never see any butter, but there is 
 lots of " confiture " to eat on it. 
 
 By the way, did you get some photos of the 
 " Chicago " I sent you some time ago? I would 
 like to know, because there is a rumor that photos 
 cannot be sent through the mails, and so I have not 
 sent any more. If you got them safely, I have 
 lots I can send. I print and develop my own pic- 
 tures. Bought an outfit in Paris 50-50 with an-
 
 Camion Letters 21 
 
 other fellow, and we have been doing a rushing 
 business whenever we have a little time off. 
 There has been no excitement for a long time — 
 haven't even heard an arrivee shell for a long 
 time, but we hear plenty of " departs," as there 
 are now several batteries not far from camp. 
 
 I did not have time to finish this letter last 
 evening before " rolling," so I am finishing it this 
 morning (June 25). The trip was not as long as 
 we expected it would be, as the place we were 
 going to was destroyed before we got there, so we 
 were saved about two miles, which means some- 
 thing to us. We do all our driving without lights, 
 but somehow it never seems to get dark. There 
 has seldom been a night when the road was not 
 perfectly plain before us, and usually the traffic 
 is easily seen. At any rate the other traffic on 
 the road does not endanger us, as a steam roller 
 or a big gun are about the only things on the road 
 heavier than we are. It's mighty interesting 
 work, too, creeping along the roads with batteries 
 of big guns and little soixante-quinzes flashing 
 every few minutes near us, and seeing the shrap- 
 nel burst with a dull red flash over the trenches, 
 and, near the front, seeing the sky and ground lit
 
 22' Camion Letters 
 
 up for miles and miles around by the long strings 
 of star shells and rockets sent up by both the 
 French and the Germans. Sometimes there are 
 dozens of searchlights sweeping over the sky 
 when an airplane motor is heard, and when they 
 find it, if they do, you can hear the hammering 
 of machine guns shooting at it — it sounds ex- 
 actly like the compressed air riveting on a steel 
 building. 
 
 I have got to go and change a tire on my car 
 which was torn last night. Will write again 
 soon. 
 
 By the way, will you send me a mouth-organ ! 
 Just an ordinary one. I have tried to buy one 
 here, but they don't have them. Also, if it isn't 
 too much trouble, I would like a Sunday paper 
 sent me now and then. 
 
 IX. 
 
 July 2, 19 17. 
 At last the weather and transport service are 
 giving me time to write again. About a week 
 ago I got a most dee-licious box of nut fudge
 
 Camion Letters 23 
 
 you sent me. Thank you ever so much for it — • 
 the first real candy we have had since April 14. 
 Well, when I got up this morning some of the 
 boys came and told me there were a couple of 
 packages for me, and went with me to help 
 open them, and we found it was, or they were, 
 two big boxes of fudge, and a box of guava 
 jelly, for which I and the boys thank you again 
 very gratefully. It's the only good American 
 candy that's been in camp, and it certainly is a 
 treat. 
 
 Life has not been at all exciting lately. We 
 seldom get sent to dangerous places in the day- 
 time — not because they don't want us to get shot, 
 but the camions have some value, and usually we 
 would have to unload them near some General's 
 domicile, and that might get hit instead of us. 
 So, as a general rule, we load up in the afternoon 
 and then go and wait behind some hill or in some 
 wood where the Boche sausages can't see us, until 
 dark, and then go to the depot and unload. It 
 rained steadily for the last few nights, and so has 
 been very dark. I don't know why we haven't 
 been stuck in the mud, — most of the cars have, — 
 but we have had the luck to escape that, although
 
 24 Camion Letters 
 
 I guess we've been shelled more than any other of 
 our cars. 
 
 I have come to the conclusion that in this work 
 I am not running any more danger than I am in 
 going to college — perhaps not as much. All the 
 shells the Germans shoot at the roads to destroy 
 them are, of course, high explosive shells, and I 
 have lost all respect for them. They make a big 
 noise, and a big hole in the ground, and a high 
 column of dirt, but they won't kill you unless you 
 are right next to one. Of course, the shrapnel 
 shells are pretty mean — they explode in the air 
 and scatter, but they are no good for destroying 
 roads and bridges, and so we see very few of them. 
 We were in a village yesterday that the Germans 
 had occupied for two and a half years, and only 
 left about April 15th. When they left they blew 
 up all the houses and cut down all the fruit trees 
 they had time to, and cut a ring of bark off around 
 the trunks of the others. Sometimes they bored 
 a hole in a tree to put some powder in, and blew 
 it up. The country is a wreck now, and it will 
 be a desert next year, as far as trees go. 
 
 A few days ago we saw an exciting air battle 
 between one of our fellows in the Lafayette
 
 Camion Letters 25 
 
 Esquadrille and seven Bodies. We were playing 
 a game of baseball after supper when we saw six 
 " spads " (French) fly over us. One was hav- 
 ing engine trouble, and had to drop behind the 
 others. A little later we saw a whole swarm of 
 planes in the distance, and heard their machine- 
 guns, and saw one machine come down. The 
 day after one of the fellows went over to a big 
 hospital near us, and talked with the fellow, 
 named Hall, who had been brought down. He 
 said he had dropped way behind his party, and had 
 then mistaken the seven German planes for theirs. 
 Of course, when he got near them they attacked 
 him, and he was shot through the arm and the 
 lung. He lost consciousness and fell, but came 
 to about a hundred feet above the ground, in 
 time to turn his machine. Then he fainted again, 
 and when he came to he was in the hospital. 
 Sounds like a fairy story, doesn't it? Next day 
 all the papers said he had attacked the seven 
 Germans. 
 
 I can't tell if I have received all your letters, 
 but I have received several very interesting ones. 
 It's too bad Bill couldn't get into the army. He 
 must be awfully disappointed. I wonder if I could
 
 26 Camion Letters 
 
 pass the examination — my eyes are not very good. 
 Lots of the older men in this Service are here 
 because they are not able to join the army, and 
 want to do something. 
 
 X 
 
 July 14, 1917. 
 
 The maple sugar you sent me came safely last 
 night, and it was the greatest treat I have had 
 for weeks and weeks. It was fresh and in fine 
 condition. I gave some to some of my poilu 
 friends, and they didn't seem to know exactly 
 what to make of it. The only thing they would 
 say was that it was very sweet. I don't have 
 to pay duty on anything I get — even tobacco 
 seems to come through free. 
 
 July 1 oth I got your letter written June 21st. 
 We were making a night trip, and were waiting 
 to be unloaded when the staff car brought out the 
 mail to us. I couldn't see very well by the star 
 shells, so I took a lamp off the car and went down 
 into a nearby dug-out. It was the first time the 
 lamp had ever been lit, but it burned all right and
 
 Camion Letters 27 
 
 I had just time to read my letters before we had 
 orders to go on. 
 
 Everything is going on as usual. Nobody in 
 the section has been hurt or has been sick for 
 more than a couple of days at a time. The only 
 trouble is that there does not seem to be nearly 
 enough work for us to do. 
 
 Our address has changed again — the latest is 
 at the head of this letter, but any of the former 
 ones will reach us all right. I am afraid that 
 
 one of the boxes of fudge that sent has been 
 
 lost — I have received three in all. Along with 
 your maple sugar I got a big box of chocolate 
 from . At present, I have probably the big- 
 gest reputation for packages in camp. As soon as 
 one comes in for me, fellows come from both 
 barracks to tell me about it and help me carry 
 them up to my bunk. 
 
 The hot weather seems to be over, and it has 
 been very cold and rainy for the last few days. 
 I like it better than the hot weather, because I 
 have a rubber shirt and a sheepskin coat, and can 
 keep perfectly warm and dry. 
 
 I have a lot of cleaning and greasing to do to 
 my car, so I must stop.
 
 28 Camion Letters 
 
 XI 
 
 July 22, ipif. 
 
 I am writing on a desk I have just made out of 
 a shell-box, which I saved from a load of 
 " empties " we were carrying back from the 
 front. They are very useful to keep things in, 
 because they are very well made, with big iron 
 hinges. Most of the " 75 " cases have " U. S. 3 " 
 on them — meaning United States 3-inch, so I 
 guess we must be sending over lots of the shells 
 we use in our 3-inch guns. 
 
 There is not anything new about the work to 
 say. We still get splendid food and not too much 
 work to do. The section has been very quiet 
 lately, and I've almost forgotten what a shell 
 sounds like. The only excitement has been two 
 or three air raids which the Germans have made 
 on this district. A few nights ago we were 
 waked up by an explosion and a heavy shock that 
 felt like an earthquake, then there was another 
 nearer explosion, and another nearer still. We 
 were pretty well scared then, and were expecting 
 the next one on top of us, but there were no 
 more.
 
 Camion Letters 29 
 
 Last Sunday some fellows and I went to 
 Church at a beautiful thirteenth century cathedral 
 on top of a little hill. There was an architect 
 with us and he told us that originally the cathe- 
 dral had been about three times as big as it is 
 now, with a big spire in the middle, but, even in its 
 present condition, it is very impressive. The in- 
 side is all white-washed stone, with few decora- 
 tions, and the outside walls are covered with 
 grass and small shrubs, wherever they can find a 
 crevice to grow in. The congregation was made 
 up of women and children mostly — all dressed up 
 in their Sunday clothes, and some wounded 
 soldiers. 
 
 I am sending some photos in this letter, and I 
 hope they get through. One is of the celebration 
 we had the 4th of July. I told about it in an- 
 other letter. You can see the car sliding down 
 the narrow gauge track. The trick is to stick the 
 pole through a hole in a board nailed below the 
 pail of water. If you don't do it, the pail tips 
 over on you, as in the picture. The picture of the 
 French village is very true to life — just big piles 
 of stones on both sides of the road, with a few 
 walls standing. There are lots of dug-outs that
 
 30 Camion Letters 
 
 you can't see underneath these ruins. The pic- 
 ture of the convoy was taken when we stopped 
 once along the road. My car is not in it, but all 
 the cars are almost the same. The one of the 
 shell exploding in the distance was taken a 
 long time ago, also in a " village." You can 
 see the barbed wire chevaux de frises near the 
 camera. 
 
 Arrangements about our " permissions " have 
 
 changed again. I cannot visit , because we 
 
 are not allowed to leave France. I think I will 
 take a trip to the Swiss border — near Lake 
 Geneva. They say living there is very cheap, and 
 transportation is free, so it is a good chance to see 
 the Alps and to compare Lake Geneva and Lake 
 George for myself. By the time you get this 
 letter I will probably be back working again, as 
 my permission begins August 2nd. I am rather 
 disappointed at not being able to go to London, 
 but this certainly is a wonderful opportunity to 
 see some beautiful places without spending much 
 money. 
 
 Another box of fudge came night before last. 
 It had been packed in moth balls in the Post 
 Office, and it was pretty strong till I had aired it
 
 Camion Letters 31 
 
 for a couple of days, then it tasted natural and 
 very good. 
 
 The supper gong is ringing, so I must stop. 
 
 XII 
 
 21 rue Raynouard, Paris, May 6, 19 17. 
 
 The present prospect is that I will soon leave 
 Paris, and as it may not be so easy to write let- 
 ters later on, I want to outline the trend of events 
 up to now. 
 
 It isn't at all interesting to read, although we 
 enjoyed it immensely. After the incident with 
 the submarine we landed at Bordeaux, where we 
 spent the day. Rode to Paris in a funny train by 
 night. We've been in Paris for a few days now 
 and have spent the time taking care of military 
 and other red tape, taking French lessons and 
 Ford lessons and seeing Paris, which last is no 
 small nor unpleasant job. This certainly is a 
 regular city. 
 
 Now comes an explanation which I shall not 
 be able to make as clear as I would wish. 
 
 In the last big battle the French experienced
 
 32 Camion Letters 
 
 very great difficulty in transporting munitions. 
 There was a deficit of men to drive the trucks, so 
 serious that the army staff has requested that the 
 American Field Ambulance Service convert men 
 from ambulance to heavy transport drivers. They 
 say that they need the latter much more at the 
 present time. 
 
 The officials have asked that a unit of sixty 
 men be organized at once. Andrew, head of our 
 Field Ambulance Service in France, has put the 
 subject before the Cornell men now in Paris, ask- 
 ing that they form the nucleus of the first Ameri- 
 can unit of this sort. 
 
 Tinkham, who raised the first Cornell ambu- 
 lance unit, is going to convert the unit for which 
 he worked so hard into this new transport service. 
 Nearly every Cornell man is going into it. You 
 can see that I'm confronted with questions. In 
 spite of the fact that our standing as Americans 
 and American Ambulance Field Service men re- 
 mains exactly the same, there is a change in the 
 nature of the Service. France asks us to enter 
 the new Service. It promises harder work and 
 less excitement, farther from the front. It would 
 be a great relief to me if I could personally explain
 
 Camion Letters 33 
 
 the proposed change to the men who gave me 
 money to come over here. 
 
 But I must use my own judgment. I believe 
 that you and the other Cornell men at home would 
 endorse my action in getting into the transport 
 service. I place great reliance on Tinkham's 
 judgment. . . . 
 
 This is the second chapter of this letter, due to 
 the fact that I've been awaiting events. They 
 have occurred and the events of the near future 
 are clear enough to proceed. After the best of 
 my judgment and that of those whom I feel are 
 best fitted to give advice, I have decided to enter 
 the new transport section. We will be the first 
 armed Americans to enter the " Great War " with 
 the exception of some aviators. Tomorrow 
 morning at 9.30 we leave Paris for barracks not a 
 great many miles from Paris. There we will 
 remain for two weeks probably, learning the 
 Pierce-Arrow cars, which will be used exclusively. 
 
 I sincerely hope that in case you do not favor 
 my action, that you will refrain from too severe 
 a criticism until I can get home and explain com- 
 prehensively the turn which may mean so much 
 to me. Had I followed my personal desires I
 
 34 Camion Letters 
 
 would have refused to leave the ambulance serv- 
 ice. But after my experience with the submarine 
 and learning practically at first hand the enemy 
 that not only France, but the United States, has to 
 deal with, and seeing the tremendous sacrifice 
 going on about me without a sign of quailing, I 
 feel that any sacrifice of personal desires that I 
 make is infinitely trivial. If France is so hard 
 put as to make, through some of her highest 
 officials, a request that a part of her Ambulance 
 Service be turned over into this new Service, — 
 What is a man to think ? 
 
 This letter certainly lacks the valuable quality 
 of brevity. With a request that you write me 
 and a promise to keep you posted as far as rea- 
 sonable, though not an ambulance driver I am, 
 
 Yours sincerely 
 
 XIII 
 
 A whole lot has happened, too much to ac- 
 count for in detail, since I last wrote. Forty- 
 two of us, mostly Cornell boys, left Paris on the 
 morning of May 8. Movies and quite a celebra-
 
 Camion Letters 3^ 
 
 tion accompanied the departure. In the middle of 
 the afternoon we had arrived at the nearest point 
 the trains were able to reach to Soissons in the 
 Brie region. We were trucked to a small town 
 in a hilly wooded country. A mile or so out we 
 made a camp, which was changed to a permanent 
 position in a large and beautiful open beech wood. 
 
 We have three nice tents, fourteen men to a 
 tent, a French army cooking outfit and two 
 cooks who provide plain, well cooked food in 
 more than sufficient quantity. 
 
 There is a splendid man, a French Lieutenant, 
 in charge. He and an assistant give us lectures 
 on the Pierce-Arrow cars, road and army regula- 
 tions, etc. There are eighteen trucks (one sec- 
 tion) back from the front to train us in running 
 them. We are getting along well and seeing a lot 
 of trenches and other interesting scenery. 
 
 When our section has been trained we will go 
 on duty as a reserve, to supply the drivers where 
 extra supplies are needed, the shifts making it 
 possible for us to see greatly more of the war and 
 country. 
 
 I have just asked the Lieutenant and he says it 
 is all right to say that we are in the Brie district
 
 36 Camion Letters 
 
 at present, near Soissons. Soissons is now being 
 shelled to prevent entrance of trains. 
 
 The actual war sights we have seen are I sup- 
 pose only preliminaries. We hear the big guns, 
 see as many as a dozen or fifteen airplanes in the 
 air at once and at night there are the stray shells 
 from anti-aircraft guns and the strings of lumi- 
 nous rockets. There is a hand grenade practice 
 point a couple of hundred yards from the camp 
 and we were shown the mechanism and throw- 
 ing, all of which were mighty interesting. 
 
 Yesterday we went to what was the first line 
 less than two months ago. The Germans were 
 driven out by a big French drive from a position 
 which they had held for two years. The place 
 was a sure enough sight, concreted, glazed, deco- 
 rated, curiosities and salvage to satisfy the most 
 fanatical. The place was full of traps, wires with 
 bombs hanging in concealed places, etc. We 
 hardly dared touch anything. 
 
 A town back of the trenches was nearly 
 grounded, the whole country round indescribable 
 in its ruin of iron, enormous shell holes, barb 
 wire, remains of all kinds of shells and mecha- 
 nisms of war.
 
 Camion Letters 37 
 
 » " I       ■»■■■■ — II —   ...■ll. -■ — ■■■, I. — —— ■!■■■   
 
 If I respected the French before I came over 
 here, that respect is now multiplied many times. 
 Outside of their treating us in the very best way 
 possible, the way they seem to be running the 
 war is certainly wonderful. If anything goes 
 wrong, or any personal pleasures have to be 
 turned into hardships, it's " Pour La Guerre" and 
 is all right. They all seem to be well aware that 
 this is a war of years, not months. 
 
 The morning after we had set up camp here, 
 a band was brought from the front, a Captain and 
 a bunch of men gave us a welcome, a speech, and 
 some right good music. All of which indicates 
 the value and rating that France puts on the new 
 blood that she needs more than any one in 
 America can realize. 
 
 We have been out nearly all day today, learn- 
 ing how to turn the trucks around under diffi- 
 culties. I should think that it would cost the 
 French Government about $100 apiece to train us. 
 
 It is now 5 o'clock and the big guns at the 
 front are going at it with unusual vigor.
 
 38 Camion Letters 
 
 XIV 
 
 Just before our arrival in Paris, the American 
 Ambulance Field Service was changed into the 
 American Field Service and the organization 
 much enlarged. Under the existing conditions, 
 many of us had to enter other fields of service. 
 We came to help France and France needed men 
 for transport service. It was our duty to join 
 where needed and this we did. Six of the W. U. 
 Unit are with me; the rest are in Paris and ex- 
 pect to drive ambulances there — to and from the 
 railway stations. I hated very much to break up 
 the unit, but I could not have done otherwise 
 and I have a clear conscience. America is at 
 war and boys of my standing should not be doing 
 only the Ambulance work. Please do not criti- 
 cise my action — it would be unfair to me, for no 
 one in America has the knowledge that he must 
 have before making any conclusions. — It isn't 
 what we came to do, but it is the thing to do. — 
 America is absurdly ignorant of the part she is 
 expected to play in this great war. It is a tre- 
 mendous and grim thing, and the sooner America
 
 Camion Letters 39 
 
 realizes it, the better. France has fought a won- 
 derful fight and it is now time for a fresh entry 
 into the conflict. 
 
 XV, 
 
 June 14, 19 1 7. 
 The section has just finished loading the cars 
 at one of the big depots and is on the road toward 
 the lines. It is early in the afternoon and they 
 can only go to a certain point along the road and 
 wait there until nightfall before continuing to the 
 more advanced posts. The load consists of vari- 
 ous trench materials, walks, poles, wire, screens, 
 and so on. It is not our task to carry such things, 
 but during slack intervals the reserves do not 
 always carry ammunition. We arrived three 
 weeks ago, just at the tail end of an offensive, and 
 work has been diminishing ever since. The fel- 
 lows get impatient at being idle any of the time — 
 they haven't learned that this is how war goes. 
 Over three weeks since we left the training school 
 and began regular service. Before six months are 
 up the fellows will have accomplished a lot of real
 
 40 Camion Letters 
 
 hard physical work. Much more, I think, than 
 in the Ambulance section. But the work isn't 
 nearly so appealing, so it would take more courage 
 to see it through. We go about as far up as the 
 ambulances and take the same risks — in fact, on 
 every trip some of the cars have run through 
 shells, but there isn't the same opportunity for 
 individual action. Convois of eight, twelve, six- 
 teen cars always together. 
 
 I knew from the start that we had an excep- 
 tionally good set of men, and they are turning out 
 that in every respect. The French Captain has 
 
 remarked about it several times. and 
 
 are excellent Sergeants, and and are 
 
 equally good Corporals. and are next 
 
 in line for non-com. officers. Already four of the 
 men of the original section have been made leaders 
 of new sections — they were not Cornell men, how- 
 ever. It is my aim to have this section the well 
 from which the leaders for the new sections will 
 be drawn. This T. M. Service should increase 
 very fast. I expect by the end of the summer 
 there will be a thousand men enrolled. Of course, 
 the type of fellows may have to change because of 
 conscription, but it will be just the place for men
 
 Camion Letters 41 
 
 over thirty who wish to serve in some active 
 manner. 
 
 I wish the people in America could realize how 
 much France needs men and supplies. Not only 
 fighting men, but organizers and business heads. 
 At times there are incidents that give reasons, per- 
 haps, why the war has lasted so long. 
 
 I was delighted to receive your letter telling of 
 the financial success of your campaign for money 
 for the Service. 
 
 XVI 
 
 July 2nd, 19 1 7. 
 Although yesterday was Sunday no one 
 would have known it as far as we were concerned. 
 In the morning a mist which was the end of a 
 two days' rain kept every one who had not work 
 to do indoors where we lay around and rested, as 
 the orders were out that we were to go out that 
 night. Besides I had several things to do, such as 
 laying walks, etc., so that the fellows could get 
 around camp without being swallowed up in the 
 mud. For two days' rain makes this soil im-
 
 42 Camion Letters 
 
 passable for human or any other travel. The 
 roads, however, are good, for they have a nice 
 deep rock bottom, and as long as one stays there 
 everything runs along O. K. But when a 5-ton 
 truck gets stuck in the mud there's the deuce 
 to pay and it takes a pretty good deal of work to 
 get her out again. So far we have been lucky and 
 with careful driving have avoided lots of trouble. 
 Now let me tell you why I feel like a prince 
 today. To begin with four of the fellows left for 
 Meaux, where they are training as officers and 
 that left some vacancies. Before this time I had 
 
 been a second driver to on the second car 
 
 (we call the job "Grease Cup Boy"). Well, 
 what do you think, I became the proud possessor 
 of a 5-ton truck myself, with a grease cup boy 
 under me and lots of driving. This job was not 
 to last long. I only took one trip with my car 
 and was hardly on to its quaint tricks when our 
 acting Chief called me to the Bureau and said 
 
 that one of the Corporals had been called to 
 
 and that I was to be a Corporal from henceforth. 
 Now maybe this doesn't mean much, but to me it 
 means a lot. Our Service is young and new sec- 
 tions are going out every day. Already nine of
 
 Camion Letters 43 
 
 our men have gone to Meaux; when they com- 
 plete their training they take out their own sec- 
 tions. I'm now in direct line to be sent to Meaux ; 
 maybe it will be in six weeks, maybe not for ten, 
 but anyway eventually I think I shall have a 
 chance to go and then I shall be a First Lieu- 
 tenant. So although I don't want to raise your 
 hopes too high I want you to know how lucky I 
 am and that so far I've done my duty and that bit 
 more which counted. 
 
 Our trip last night was uneventful, and as I 
 have been over the same road at least six times it 
 was more or less monotonous. However, the 
 place where we stopped for supper was under free 
 bombardment. The shells were coming in about 
 once every minute. The whizzytheth XX! and 
 then a bang! It was rather disconcerting even 
 when one knew they were landing three hundred 
 feet away. The French batteries were mighty 
 busy, too, and it was like being in a mighty 
 thunderstorm which never stopped thundering 
 an instant. One gets so that he can distinguish 
 the size of the gun by the strength of the explo- 
 sion and it was amusing to guess which was 
 which.
 
 44 Camion Letters 
 
 I don't think I ever told you just how we were 
 organized. That is, what every oMcier is sup- 
 posed to do. Well, there are five degrees of rank. 
 The Assistant Driver, Driver, Corporal, Sergeant, 
 and Chief. The Assistant Driver helps out on 
 everything and the Driver is only a degree higher 
 in that he is responsible for the car. Both have to 
 clean the car, repair it, etc., and also act in turn 
 with the other men as camp police. The Cor- 
 poral has to see that the work is done and done 
 right and in convoy rides in the last car of each 
 section to see that the convoy is kept from trail- 
 ing out along the road, and in case a car has to 
 stop sizes up the trouble, fixes it if he can, and if 
 not sees that it gets home. The Sergeant is re- 
 sponsible for the convoy en route, the camp and 
 men in general, while the Chief does the whole 
 thing, and rides in the Staff car. If he is a good 
 man and has a good bunch, his responsibilities are 
 light, if not they are heavy. 
 
 I must do the rounds, so good-bye until later.
 
 Camion Letters 45 
 
 XVII 
 
 Somewhere in France, July, ipiy. 
 
 It is three o'clock this afternoon and I have 
 only just got up, the reason being that I did not 
 get in until eight this morning. We had a long, 
 hard trip yesterday and last night. Left here at 
 two in the afternoon, picked up a load of barbed 
 wire, then ran up toward the lines as far as we 
 could in daylight and stopped for supper about 
 5 o'clock. Three of us had bought some cheese, 
 bread, and jam, so with the modest rations fur- 
 nished us we had an excellent supper, sitting out 
 in the middle of a field with a fine view off to 
 the west and no reminders from the north that 
 such a thing as war was going on. 
 
 We had not been there very long before we 
 heard a hiss and a bang nearby and ran over to 
 see what had happened. We found that one of 
 the crew boys had picked up a hand grenade and 
 thrown it into a nearby trench, but it failed to 
 explode, so he looked over to discover the reason, 
 with the result it went off and some jagged splin- 
 ters hit him in the leg above the knee. We band- 
 aged him up, hailed a passing ambulance and
 
 46 Camion Letters 
 
 shipped him off to the hospital, from which re- 
 ports have come that the slug was easily removed 
 and he will soon be out. He was a lucky 
 lad. 
 
 The fields about here are filled with unexploded 
 shell and hand grenades and bombs and we have 
 strict orders not to touch them, so it was his own 
 fault, pure and simple. Well, we had to wait 
 until 10 o'clock so we would not be seen before 
 going to the lines. We ran down into the gully 
 of the Aisne river and just as we were about to 
 cross the stream the car ahead of me, instead of 
 turning and going over the new bridge, headed 
 straight for the one which had been destroyed and 
 almost got there, but was stopped in time. I 
 turned to the right without waiting for him, 
 crossed the new makeshift bridge and went bang- 
 ing along up the opposite slope where we were to 
 unload. 
 
 There was no shelling to speak of, so soon all 
 ten trucks were unloaded and we were ready to 
 go home, but it was not to be. There was a 
 lot of heavy shells which were to be moved to 
 another spot from a nearby abandoned battery, so 
 we cranked up and started off for another load.
 
 Camion Letters 47 
 
 It was awfully dark and cloudy and just begin- 
 ning to rain, so there was some excuse for my 
 almost running down some soldiers on their way 
 back from the trenches. They were marching 
 along silently in the dark, the Captain with his 
 dog leading the way on foot; the soldiers with 
 their rifles and packs close behind him; they fol- 
 lowed by the supply wagons. 
 
 There is something most impressive about the 
 way these infantry officers lead their men. For 
 the most part they are men well on towards middle 
 age; that is, the higher officers; instead of riding 
 they usually walk along just ahead of the younger 
 officers and invariably they are accompanied by 
 a German police dog. You get the impression 
 that they expect nothing better than the men get, 
 stand the same marches and the same hard- 
 ships and at the same time carry all the respon- 
 sibility that the command of a body of men 
 brings. 
 
 So having passed by, we ran on for a few kilo- 
 meters in the pouring rain; the unloaded trucks 
 slid first to one side of the road, then to the other, 
 with sometimes a wheel in the ditch. After some 
 time we found the shells which turned out to be
 
 48 Camion Letters 
 
 those huge 320' s. It took the men a long time 
 to load them, so we coiled up on the seats, pulled 
 our thick coats over us, and slept soundly in the 
 rain for almost two hours. 
 
 Then came the order to move, the cars roared 
 and spluttered; one went into a ditch and had to 
 be pulled out. Another lost all the water from 
 its radiator because the car ahead smashed into 
 it but went along, the last car towing the invalid. 
 The road we ran along would in daylight have 
 been about as safe as a lane in no man's land, but 
 now with only the star shells burning over us 
 and no sausages or balloons up it was as safe as 
 Harrison Avenue on a summer night. The star 
 shells lighted things up wonderfully. 
 
 We went rumbling through deserted villages, 
 the noise of the trucks becoming a roar in the 
 little narrow streets. Never a soul do you see 
 in these little ruined towns; it is almost uncanny. 
 Most of the little houses are roofless, some have 
 great gaping holes in the walls, many have little 
 left but the walls themselves, which stand out in 
 all their jaggedness against the blaze of light to 
 the north. A sentry stood at the bridge as we 
 crossed a poplar lined canal. We ran along
 
 Camion Letters 49 
 
 through the country again, but soon entered one 
 of the prettiest French towns I have yet seen. 
 
 The streets were wide (for a French town), 
 most of the buildings were chateaux set well back 
 from the road among the trees, and oddly enough 
 they were little damaged from shell fire. Off to 
 the right a square church tower, surmounted by 
 the usual ugly spire which spoils so many French 
 country churches, was clearly visible. 
 
 We turned to the left and suddenly came into 
 a part of the town which had been torn to pieces. 
 The trees were cut off near the ground, though 
 some still stood with a grotesque limb or two 
 stuck out from the trunk. The houses were in 
 ruins; great round shadows in the gardens showed 
 where some of the shells had landed. It was 
 almost impossible to believe that this was a part 
 of the same town. 
 
 We passed on again into the country and turned 
 back toward the south. The star shells behind 
 us cast the shadows of the camion on the road 
 before us. No longer was the illumination an 
 aid; it was most decidedly a hindrance. The 
 road became rougher; we bumped rapidly on and 
 then suddenly came out into one of those great
 
 50 Camion Letters 
 
 broad highways for which France is famous. 
 Those of us who were wise enough to remove the 
 governors from our cars flew along; those who 
 had not bumped placidly on. Finally, just as it 
 was growing light, we came to our depot, only 
 to find we could not be unloaded until six o'clock. 
 
 The driver of the car ahead of me let down the 
 back of his truck, exposing the forty-odd shells 
 which lay there. He thought he would be un- 
 loaded there, but instead he was told to move 
 further on. Forgetting that his tailboard was 
 down, he started ahead, jolting over the corduroy 
 road. I saw the last one of the shells move back, 
 then it rolled a bit nearer the edge. I did not 
 budge, but sat there scared stiff. Nearer it came 
 and suddenly rolled off and dropped five feet 
 onto the log roadway and lay there. I had not 
 dared to breathe, for it seemed an hour, and all 
 I could do was to gulp. So we curled up again 
 on our coats. 
 
 The rain began again, but we slept on for two 
 hours, until the men came to unload us. Then 
 we flew for home, picking up some turbaned 
 African soldiers who asked for a lift. At 7: 30 
 a.m. we pulled in here and at 8 we were sound
 
 Camion Letters 51 
 
 asleep after eighteen hours on the road. I have 
 gone into detail about this trip, so as to show 
 what our work is like. Sometimes we have more 
 excitement in various forms, but it was an average 
 trip. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 We are resting by the road — a very common 
 thing in the Transport Military Service. I have 
 a load of green wood — for trestle work — which 
 cannot weigh more than 34,000 pounds, for it is 
 only a 5-ton truck. 
 
 As my paper may testify before my interrupted 
 letter is complete, I have not washed my hands 
 or face for more than sixty hours. My last bath 
 was taken in Paris. 
 
 I spoke above of interruptions. They are not 
 orders to proceed, or unload, or any such thing. 
 The first was to watch a snappy combat of soixante 
 quinses and a squadron of Boche airplanes. They 
 
 seemed to be directly over N , which is some 
 
 twelve kilometers from F where we are tem- 
 porarily quartered. The pet guns of the French,
 
 52 Camion Letters 
 
 the little pieces which with the aid of the inferior 
 Fifth Avenue buses are reputed to have saved 
 Paris pounded away for about ten minutes. They 
 sprinkled little white puffs all over the sky but 
 didn't seem to be coming within some nine or ten 
 miles of the white-bellied evening birds. The 
 latter, however, apparently were wasting no time 
 or gasoline in getting up and away. They were 
 soon out of sight. The poilus who insist upon 
 treating us as we do a circus parade claimed that 
 several of the booms were aerial bombs. How- 
 ever they tell us anything they think we can 
 understand of their French so it is hard to believe 
 anything. 
 
 The second interruption (which as it hap- 
 pened occurred some fifteen minutes before 
 the other — and a few less before I began 
 this letter) was a large troop movement. It 
 is nothing new, or unique. But of course 
 it may interest you somewhat. They were 
 mostly French Hindu Chinese, whom the French 
 call " Annamites," but were sprinkled with Sene- 
 galese and natives. Pinched in between them 
 were a few hundred German prisoners. They 
 looked very much like little boys who had been 

 
 Camion Letters 53 
 
 caught on five or six dictionaries and a morocco 
 bound copy of Heroes and Hero Worship eating 
 jam. They weren't having any fun, though, 
 where these were, and you can hardly hate any 
 one who has lived like a rat in the ground for 
 months. 
 
 I have seen a bit of that ferret-life. We have 
 been through miles of first line trenches which had 
 been evacuated by the Germans several weeks be- 
 fore. We also thoroughly investigated the vil- 
 lage of N , which the French tore completely 
 
 to pieces to retake it from the Germans. We got 
 what we had been asking for in Paris, almost the 
 day we left it — excitement ! Some of us wanted 
 it and some of us thought we wanted it. Now, 
 of course, we sleep with 210 and bigger shells 
 hurtling their demoniac way over our heads. But 
 the first day that we crouched in a rehearsal 
 trench watching the French rookies in hand gren- 
 ade practice, there wasn't one of us that didn't 
 shake all over every once in a while — perhaps 
 every time a grenade was thrown. 
 
 We are part of the French Army. Just what 
 our status will be when our troops, promised for 
 July, arrive we have not yet been able to dis-
 
 54 Camion Letters 
 
 cover. Finding out anything is the hardest work 
 we have. Often we don't know where we are or 
 where we are going. We never know when we 
 are through or when we are starting. In fact we 
 know very little except that we work hard and 
 probably shall until we get back to Paris. 
 
 Since starting the above paragraph we have 
 come some eighteen miles, steady running over 
 deeply rutted roads, muddy roads, and over- 
 trafficked roads. A tired, sleepy-looking gang of 
 unfit-for-the-front peasants are nonchalantly un- 
 loading the poles. I am carrying forty-six and 
 the seven men disturbing my camion should have 
 them out in time for dinner-supper, which is in 
 two hours. 
 
 This above statement is misleading. Supper is 
 any time we get back ; just as breakfast is fifteen 
 minutes before we leave — be that at 4 or 8. 
 Lunch is any time motors are hot enough to stop 
 the convois. 
 
 If I am giving the impression that a single 
 one of us is displeased or dissatisfied it is an 
 erroneous one. Lately, since we have left our 
 training camp, we have been mostly marking time. 
 I repeat that things are quiet along most of the
 
 Camion Letters 55 
 
 French front and especially where we happen to 
 be. Near here we have been extraordinarily suc- 
 cessful and the air supremacy is assured, I 
 imagine. However, French newspapers must bow 
 
 in accuracy and unbiasedness even to The ; 
 
 and French soldiers, even officers, are pretty 
 badly informed as to what is happening except 
 in their own sections. 
 
 England is of course just catching her stride. 
 I doubt if she has her second wind. Each day, 
 however, she extends her lines, relieving the 
 French strain and allowing a more perfect con- 
 centration of offensive forces. The Australians 
 are constantly the recipients of unending praise 
 and the Canadians and New Zealanders are hon- 
 ored. The Scotch (who wear silk plaid breeches 
 in every Paris cafe) are absolutely worshipped. 
 
 To return to my statement of our treatment 
 and satisfaction. They love us, particularly be- 
 cause we are volunteers and especially because we 
 are Americans. They cannot do enough for us in 
 every way. 
 
 The work is spasmodic — that is all that we 
 object to. We may work seventy hours and then 
 loaf and make ourselves think we are not (which
 
 56 Camion Letters 
 
 is the harder) for three times seventy. Even at 
 that it is pleasant to think that no alarm-clock 
 will waken you at 7 (a rough hand will do it at 
 5) to attend a lecture on Roman Lawyers and 
 their friends by a much-esteemed Professor. 
 
 I am at this moment the camp favorite. A 
 New York Times for Sunday, April 15, has just 
 arrived. It is the first American newspaper that 
 has disturbed our quiet and most blissful coma of 
 ignorance. 
 
 XIX 
 
 Somewhere in July. 
 We left the training camp about a week ago 
 and arrived at our permanent place of abode after 
 about six hours of riding in the camions. The 
 
 camp is at J , about seven miles from the 
 
 front, and in the Aisne district. We were put into 
 barracks, but before we had time to get settled 
 and everything put to rights we were called to go 
 out on a drive which lasted all night. The work 
 has kept up ever since and last night was the first 
 that we have had over five hours' sleep in.
 
 Camion Letters $j 
 
 The camion that Elmer and I received (there 
 are two of us on each truck) was a 5-ton 
 Pierce-Arrow, which was in fairly good shape. 
 It has been through the battles of the Somme and 
 the Marne and has three shell and five or six 
 bullet holes in it. El and I have worked on it 
 all our spare time and now it is running in fine 
 order. Over here you have to do all the repairs 
 on the cars yourself and that is no slight job 
 with some of these old trucks. 
 
 The other day we left at five in the morning 
 and loaded at park and drove about twenty 
 
 miles to B at C where we left our load 
 
 in the dumping park. While we were waiting 
 there for the Frenchmen to unload, — and believe 
 me they are mighty slow workers, — we had a 
 very interesting sight. 
 
 A French airplane was over the trenches drop- 
 ping a few bombs, when all of a sudden a German 
 plane came out. The French plane retreated 
 back over his own trenches with the other fol- 
 lowing him. It was a beautiful sight to see the 
 shrapnel from the French anti-aircraft guns 
 bursting white puffs around the German flyer. 
 The Frenchman finally got above the Boche and
 
 58 Camion Letters 
 
 came down in a spiral around him, firing his 
 machine-gun. As he did so the Boche must have 
 been hit because he zigzagged down to earth, 
 leaving a trail of smoke behind him. The min- 
 ute he started falling, all the French poiltts 
 started yelling, for the German planes do an 
 awful lot of damage dropping bombs at night 
 and the French are glad to get back at 
 them. 
 
 We went back again and loaded up at another 
 park and went across the Aisne river to a little 
 town behind a hill where we had to wait until 
 dark before we could go ahead. About nine 
 o'clock we took our load of shells, seventy-fives, 
 
 to Chateau S , which is about one mile from 
 
 the trenches. There are two batteries of seventy- 
 fives and one of one hundred fifty-fives there and 
 when they were all going at once it certainly was 
 some Fourth of July by the noise. When the 
 deportees left the guns you would see a flash and 
 then hear a report followed by a whirring moan. 
 That is all right, but when you hear an arrivee, 
 a shriek followed by a report, if it is anywhere 
 near you, you want to get right down on your 
 face on the ground. You are quite safe if you
 
 Camion Letters 59 
 
 do that because the fragments of shells scatter 
 in parabolas from where they land. 
 
 On the way home just after we crossed the 
 
 bridge over the Aisne at P d'A , one of 
 
 the cars ran out of gas so the whole rame stopped 
 and as luck would have it the Germans started 
 shelling the bridge with high explosive shells. 
 They didn't quite have the range and the first 
 shell landed seventy-five yards from us and the 
 second about fifty feet away. The last covered 
 us with dirt and the fuse landed on the road right 
 side of one of the fellows and he now has it as a 
 souvenir. We all must have had horseshoes tied 
 to us, however, and nobody has been hit in our 
 section as yet. 
 
 Well, we have got to roll pretty soon now, so I 
 must close. Give my love to all the folks and 
 write soon because anything no matter how short 
 seems mighty good to us out here.
 
 60 Camion Letters 
 
 XX 
 
 August ist, 19 1 ?. 
 
 I'm telling the world I'm tired. It is now 
 twelve days and twelve nights that we have been 
 working with only a little time between trips to 
 eat and write letters. About all our sleep we get 
 on our cars while they are being loaded. But now 
 we are all getting hardened to the work so it's not 
 so bad. As for dirt, well if cleanliness is next to 
 godliness then I guess we all live next door to the 
 devil, for water is scarce. There isn't much to 
 write today, for nothing much has happened. 
 
 The last three days I have been running the 
 wrecking car and since it has been raining for a 
 couple of days it has been some job. When it 
 rains here the roads all disappear and two or 
 three inches of slimy mud take their place. Con- 
 sequently lots of cars slide off into the ditches 
 and we have to haul them out. One car started 
 across country for Berlin but landed up against 
 one of the screens which protect the Route 
 Gardue so didn't get far. He was loaded with 
 ammunition which we had to unload, then pull 
 him back on the road, load him up again and ship 

 
 Camion Letters 61 
 
 him off. Then another car slipped off into a field 
 and we had to repeat the process. Finally after 
 forty-eight hours of work like that we started 
 for camp but picked up a car with a broken drive 
 shaft and had to tow it fifteen miles back to the 
 repair shop. But when we got there about 10 
 o'clock this morning such a meal as they had for 
 us! Good beef, string beans, lentils, potatoes, 
 bread and cheese, and hot coffee! Gosh! It 
 tasted like a million dollars. 
 
 Our camp is situated a short way behind the 
 lines so that we do not have to go far to the 
 munition depots, but since we are supplying two 
 sectors now we have to haul a long way. I have 
 forgotten whether I told about our camp so I 
 will tell you now. We have a large tent which 
 serves as a dining-room and as a recreation room. 
 Around this are grouped trailers, called 
 remorquisj in which we sleep. These are about 
 six feet by ten and three men live in each with 
 hanging beds suspended from the roof. So far 
 we have found them very comfortable but I bet 
 they'll be cold in winter. At any rate we don't 
 sleep much in them, so we should worry. We 
 have our own cooking staff and are very well
 
 62 Camion Letters 
 
 taken care of in that respect. Outside of the 
 regular French officers' fare we receive forty 
 cents a day extra toward food, so you see we 
 fare well. For breakfast we have eggs, bread and 
 jam, and coffee. For dinner we get meat (usually 
 beef), rice or spaghetti, bread and jam, and 
 coffee. Supper is our big meal, — we have meat, 
 potatoes, beans or lentils, some kind of fruit, 
 vegetables, and hot tea or coffee. The only thing 
 we lack is sweet stuff but we buy chocolate to 
 fill in. Just at present I am out of money so I 
 don't get any, so it's not much loss. 
 
 It is rumored around camp that we move for 
 new quarters tomorrow. We go up to the West- 
 ern front where there is a big French and British 
 offensive going on. When we move all we have 
 to do is to hitch our remorqiris behind our trucks 
 and go. It's like picking up your bed and walk- 
 ing. By moving so much we will eventually see 
 most of the front, which will be fine. The offen- 
 sive around here last week resulted in the French 
 gaining what they desired so they will probably 
 have a lull here for a while. But while this 
 attack lasted (for two weeks) it was terrible. 
 There are some pictures in Leslie's Magazine of
 
 Camion Letters 63 
 
 I   I ■!   ——-———■■— ■■. I M il ' H I — ——■■■ I   
 
 July the 5th, which shows some pictures of 
 screened roads. These are taken on this front and 
 are roads which I have travelled over. The 
 bridge pictured was recently blown up by a shell. 
 These pictures might interest you as other pic- 
 tures also in it show pictures of this front. 
 
 Well, we have to carry some bomb-proofs up 
 to a town near the front lines tonight, so I must 
 close. We go up to this town by night because 
 the road up is visible to the Germans and our 
 convoy would be a tasty bit to them. Therefore 
 we go up there at night. I had to tow a car down 
 from there the other day in broad daylight, but 
 nothing happened and we weren't fired on once. 
 
 XXI 
 
 Paris, May 6, 19 17. 
 This is my first letter to you all since my 
 arrival in Paris. My last letter home was writ- 
 ten on the boat from which we landed without 
 event on April 25th. I shall never forget the 
 last morning on board. I climbed out of bed 
 early in order to be on deck when the boat
 
 64 Camion Letters 
 
 arrived in sight of land. When I got up on 
 deck, through the mist could be seen indistinctly 
 the shore line, which in an hour became a mass of 
 green landscape. After eleven days of nothing 
 but water in motion, it was the greatest relief to 
 the eyes to see land again. Soon we were in the 
 harbor feasting our eyes on the beautiful farms 
 and hamlets which ran down to the water's edge 
 not over one hundred yards away. By noon we 
 were up the harbor as far as the tide would let 
 us go, waiting for higher tide before proceeding 
 to Bordeaux; away again at 4 p.m., arriving 
 at the end of our journey at 10 o'clock Wednes- 
 day night. As the hotels were nearly all filled, 
 we remained on the boat all night. 
 
 In the morning we barely had time to breakfast 
 and send for a few cards before our train left 
 for Paris. I did not, therefore, have time to 
 see much of Bordeaux. The trains and train 
 service here are far superior to what I had 
 imagined they would be. First-class engines, 
 good, though crude coaches, made up of six to 
 ten passenger compartments. Ten of us climbed 
 into one of these in a second-class coach, and we 
 were off. The Government took us up, so as we
 
 Camion Letters 65 
 
 travelled free of charge, we saw nothing of the 
 conductor all the way. 
 
 The trip was without exception the most beau- 
 tiful and interesting that I have ever taken. All 
 of France is wearing its spring coat. The farms 
 run right up to the tracks. Garden truck and 
 grain are up, and the fields are full of laborers — 
 mostly women. The few men seen were either 
 crippled, wounded, or too old for army service. 
 Most of the traction on the farms is done by oxen; 
 more so now I understand than formerly, as the 
 horses all go to the front. 
 
 The farmsteads, though humble, are as neat as 
 pins. Gardens come up to the door; no space is 
 wasted. All of the houses are of stone, or a 
 kind of mud plaster, and all the houses on farms 
 and in the little towns have red tile roofs. One 
 feels on passing through the country that he is 
 constantly in a mammoth old-fashioned garden, 
 so neat and quiet and beautiful is everything. 
 Some of the boys played cards all of the way up. 
 I couldn't leave the window, for the beauty of the 
 scene gripped me from the moment we left 
 Bordeaux. 
 
 After nine too short hours, we arrived in Paris
 
 66 Camion Letters 
 
 at dusk, and were taken at once to headquarters, 
 tired, dirty (they use soft coal on the railroads), 
 but glad to get where we could get something 
 under the belt and then a clean bed. 21 rue 
 Raynouard was full to capacity, as was the over- 
 flow on rue Lekain, but they had rented a good 
 sized chapel next to the house on rue Lekain, and 
 arranged twenty-five cots in rows there. About 
 twenty of the Cornell bunch, including myself, 
 picked cots there, and yours truly went at once to 
 bed to sleep the sleep of the just. 
 
 It is a mighty comfortable camp. We got 
 breakfast at the house next door in rue Lekain, 
 and the other meals at headquarters on rue Ray- 
 nouard. The feed is excellent and we could not 
 be treated better. Headquarters is a fine old 
 mansion given for the duration of the war by 
 the owners to the American Field Service. It 
 backs on to a beautiful park, sloping down to 
 the Seine, the existence of which would not be 
 suspected from a look at the grim, homely appear- 
 ance of the front of the house on rue Raynouard. 
 The interior, though now bare of carpets and 
 expensive furniture, suggests grandeur. Great 
 halls and stairways, a beautiful panelled dining-
 
 Camion Letters 67 
 
 room, and imposing terraces in the rear, all fit 
 in with one's impressions (derived from books) 
 of French love of the beautiful. The rooms 
 now are dormitories for the men while in Paris, 
 and offices, a lounge and a dining-room and a 
 great kitchen. We are well taken care of here. 
 
 I have been rather busy since my arrival and 
 have not really had an opportunity to see Paris. 
 I have, however, taken advantage of what spare 
 time I have had to see the exterior of some of 
 the most beautiful buildings and some of the 
 parks. Most of the famous buildings, as the 
 Louvre, etc., are closed to the public, on account 
 of the war, and I, therefore will not be able to 
 see the inside of them, but it is most interesting 
 to wander about just looking at these magnificent 
 buildings with their surrounding parks and won- 
 derful statues; one reads history, struggles, sacri- 
 fice, at every step. I imagine France is going 
 through now on a large scale what she has been 
 through for many, many generations. Her monu- 
 ments are predominantly war monuments, her 
 art that art inspired by great sacrifice and love of 
 country. Already I feel that I have learned 
 much that I needed to learn. If I were to re-
 
 (,8 Cam ion Letters 
 
 turn now I would feel repaid for the trip. I 
 shall have much to tell you of this wonderful 
 plaee and these wonderful people after I have 
 been in contact with them longer. 
 
 What has impressed me most during my short 
 stay here is the earnestness of the French people 
 in the present conflict; their willingness to sac- 
 rifice everything for the great cause winch they 
 have been upholding for the world since the be- 
 ginning of the war. There are few men m 
 civilian clothes seen in Paris, and those few are 
 cripples and old men. Women predominate to 
 a great degree, and I think it conservative to say 
 that seventy-five per cent, of the women are m 
 black And yet there is little sadness d.splayed. 
 True there are few smiling faces to be seen, too 
 great a tragedy is being acted for these poor 
 people to find much joy in life, and yet no one 
 complains; each plays the part willingly knowing 
 that the sacrifice has been made for France. Th.s 
 is indeed a wonderful people. But Pans is no 
 
 longer gay. 
 
 It is indeed a great consolation to me now, 
 mo re so than I ever imagined it would be, to know 
 that the United States is at last a participant
 
 Camion Letters 69 
 
 in this awful affair. It is indeed a miserable 
 affair and a pity that the whole world should be 
 required to turn from the ordinary pursuits of 
 life and peace to those of war. But for a long 
 time a war against oppression, crime, and fright- 
 fulness has been waged for us, and we have 
 reaped the " benefits " in money. 
 
 Thank God we can now lift up our heads and 
 square our shoulders again! The Stars and 
 Stripes again means what it meant in '76 and '12 
 and '6 1 — it stands for honor and peace and 
 humanity even though the price be war. I long 
 for the day when our first American troops land 
 in France to fight shoulder to shoulder with the 
 rest of the world against selfishness and greed, 
 and when this war is over, as I pray it soon 
 will be, may America, my country, take the 
 initiative in the movement for an alliance of 
 nations, a world federation so organized that 
 war will no longer be possible. Do not think that 
 mine is a schoolboy patriotism. I despise a fight 
 as such; I despise war — as such. We — the United 
 States — are fighting against war — not for it.
 
 70 Camion Letters 
 
 XXII 
 
 June io, 10 17. 
 
 Here I am again and my intention is to com- 
 plete this letter at this sitting and get it off to you 
 tonight. I had similar intentions on the fifth, 
 but was called for a meeting while writing and 
 this is the first opportunity I have had since then 
 to write you. I am writing this under far differ- 
 ent circumstances and conditions than those sur- 
 rounding me when I wrote the above. In the first 
 place I am seated on a pile of straw under a tent 
 somewhere in France as a member of T. M. 23, 
 with address changed to B. C. M., Paris, France. 
 
 I am still in the American Field Service doing, 
 however, different work than I had originally 
 planned. On May 5th, Mr. Andrew, the head 
 of the American Field Service, called all the 
 Cornell men together and outlined a plan which 
 the French Government asked him to adopt. As 
 the United States is no longer neutral the Ameri- 
 can Field Service has been asked to extend its 
 activities and supply men for transport work at 
 the front as well as for ambulance work. At
 
 Camion Letters 71 
 
 present there is a great lack of drivers for the 
 big transport ammunition trucks — a lack which 
 is not felt in the ambulance work. 
 
 The plan as presented to us was for as many 
 men as possible among those present who could 
 pass the physical examination to volunteer for 
 this service instead of for the ambulance; to re- 
 cruit to forty men and leave at once for a week's 
 training at some point out toward the front. The 
 plan was adopted and after getting our equipment 
 together and being passed on by the doctor, forty 
 of us left Paris yesterday morning after a most 
 impressive ceremony. We were given a banquet 
 Monday night at which Ambassador Sharp and 
 several high up French officers addressed us with 
 stirring speeches. Yesterday morning we were 
 inspected under arms and passed in review with 
 the Stars and Stripes waving in our midst. 
 
 Do not be alarmed at this change. The work 
 is not more dangerous than the ambulance work, 
 but is more to my liking. It is belligerent service 
 and as the United States is no longer neutral, 
 and as I am praying that she will send her boys 
 and soon fight in a most worthy cause, I could 
 see no reason why I should now be doing work
 
 72 Camion Letters 
 
 which is being carried on largely by neutrals. 
 The same organization is handling this new serv- 
 ice as is handling the ambulance. This is merely 
 a new branch — a new activity of the Field 
 Service. Our unit is the first unit in this service 
 and the first organization of Americans to go into 
 belligerent service in France since war was de- 
 clared by the United States. 
 
 We left Paris for yesterday morning 
 
 after the fine send off, glad for the change, and 
 arrived here in the afternoon. We spent the 
 afternoon and evening pitching camp and getting 
 organized and turned in early in order to be up 
 early in the morning. The camp is in a beautiful 
 little valley just below a pretty, though humble 
 French town. We have three large tents, an 
 officers' tent, and two kitchen wagons, and an 
 office wagon. This morning we had another 
 ceremony conducted by a French Captain and a 
 large band, at which the American and French 
 flags were formally raised over the camp. 
 
 We shall be here a week learning how to drive 
 the big 5-ton Pierce-Arrow military trucks, 
 after which time we will be sent out into active 
 service at the front. There will be twenty trucks
 
 Camion Letters 73 
 
 travelling in convoy, two men to a machine, each 
 driving half the time and assisting on the road 
 the other half. We begin the work tomorrow and 
 later I will be able to tell you more in detail just 
 what we have to do. There will be much that I 
 cannot tell you until I see you again. Our orders 
 are very strict on this point and places and inci- 
 dents will have to be left out of my letter. I'll 
 keep a diary, however, and will have much to tell 
 you when I see you again. I am in the best of 
 health and am getting a great deal out of this 
 experience ! 
 
 XXIII 
 
 'Saturday, June 16, 1917. 
 This is a hot, sultry afternoon and the bar- 
 racks are like ovens, but I want to get a letter 
 started to you now that I have a little time, so 
 I will start it now and finish it in the cool of this 
 evening unless other duties prevent. I have re- 
 ceived no word from the States since I last wrote 
 you, but as a boat has arrived and mail is be-
 
 74 Camion Letters 
 
 ginning to come in again I am looking forward 
 to receiving the good home letters tonight. 
 
 Last night I had a most pleasant surprise in 
 
 the receipt of the pound of tobacco from . 
 
 I was surely hungry for a real smoke, for my 
 supply had run out some time ago and French 
 tobacco is vile. So I got out my old jimmy pipe 
 and filled it full and then went out and dreamed 
 pipe dreams. I guess you know, without my 
 telling you, how much I appreciate your keeping 
 me supplied. You folks will all have me spoiled ; 
 what with candy and books and smoke a fellow 
 is as comfortable as a Fifth Avenue millionaire 
 and lots happier. 
 
 Evening — same day. Well, I didn't get far 
 this afternoon. Just got started when Tinkham 
 called the section out for drill. We surely had 
 some workout and all came in after two hours of 
 it wringing wet, for this has been about the hot- 
 test day we have had and that means pretty hot 
 and the heat here seems more depressing than at 
 home. 
 
 We have had but very little rain in this sec- 
 tion, but in spite of that fact the crops seem to 
 be doing well. Though the heat of the day is
 
 Camion Letters y$ 
 
 intense, the nights usually turn off cool and re- 
 freshing. A heavy clew falls, which probably 
 in a measure makes up for some of the lack of 
 rain. Just now I am down the road from camp 
 writing on the steering wheel of one of the 
 trucks as a desk and hoping that it will not take 
 too long for this part of the world to cool off 
 tonight, for it is difficult to make one's mind 
 operate when it is as warm as it is right now. 
 
 The postman disappointed most of us tonight, 
 bringing only three or four letters and that's not 
 near enough to keep a whole camp satisfied. But 
 as tomorrow is Sunday, which is not a day off in 
 the war zone, we will hope for better luck when he 
 comes tomorrow night. The mail service is 
 highly inefficient as far as speed is concerned, but 
 it seldom fails in finally delivering what is 
 intrusted to it. So here's hoping for the morrow. 
 I sure am anxious to hear from you all. 
 
 Everything is going well with me here. Our 
 group of four sections needs but one more section 
 to make the group complete, and that one will be 
 added next week. Recruits are rapidly arriving 
 in Paris for this service and new sections are 
 being formed as fast as possible and will be sent
 
 76 Camion Letters 
 
 to form new groups as soon as they receive the 
 proper training. Our group will consist when 
 completed of: Section A— mostly Cornell; Sec- 
 tion B — mostly Andover; Section C — mostly 
 Dartmouth; and Section D — miscellaneous. The 
 group lives in adjacent barracks, but each section 
 has its own Lieutenant and Commissary and 
 works independent of the others. There is a 
 friendly rivalry among the sections in many ways, 
 i.e., the carrying out of our daily work; drill; 
 baseball; etc. 
 
 On the whole the boys get along together 
 finely, though as is always the case when a bunch 
 of men get together there comes up now and then 
 a little friction which soon wears off after the 
 application of the right kind of oil and everything 
 is lovely again. It may be because I am closer 
 to them and know them better, but I feel that 
 of all the sections so far our bunch has the clean- 
 est, finest bunch of lads. I have made some good 
 friends among them. There's Rusty, of course; 
 
 them (Cornell '14) whom I knew well at 
 
 school; is a prince of a lad who I have 
 
 come to know very well, for we spend much of 
 our spare time together, and as he is Sergeant
 
 Camion Letters 77 
 
   '   I I 1 II -   -         - I l_. I. -■!!»■   —   
 
 of the rame in which I am " Corp." we work 
 together. You will be glad to know him when 
 
 we get back. Then there is , who is Rusty's 
 
 pal and who is one of those short, lanky lads who 
 makes every one near him at all times laugh at 
 his funny remarks and antics. There are a lot 
 
 of fine fellows here! and I knew 
 
 better than any of the rest. So with so many old 
 friends and new a fellow can't kick at his 
 environment. 
 
 Sunday noon. — Couldn't finish this last night, 
 as I was called in for orders for the work today, 
 which consists of a night trip. Leaving camp at 
 4 p.m. we drive to a loading station, get a load 
 of "junk" (munitions or materials), then drive 
 toward the front, arriving at a little shot-up town 
 at about 6:30, where we stop, eat a cold lunch, 
 and wait until dark. Then we move on to our 
 destination, an artillery supply station, where we 
 are unloaded. Then back to camp in the dark 
 without a light and in bed at about 2 a.m., if 
 everything goes well. Things are mighty quiet 
 here along the front and for the past week we 
 have not been on the road as much as usual or 
 as much as we would like to be. Nevertheless
 
 7& Camion Letters 
 
 there is plenty to do getting the cars in shape, 
 drilling, etc. There is work around the barracks 
 which we all pitch in and help with, such as 
 " cleaning house," peeling spuds, carrying water, 
 etc. 
 
 If you think we are poorly fed, just listen to 
 this. I just got up from a dinner at which the 
 following was inflicted on us : ham, French-fried 
 new potatoes, lettuce salad, strawberries, cherries, 
 bread and jam. What do you think of that? 
 Well, yes, I'll admit it was the best meal we 
 have had in camp, but whoever heard of a soldier 
 getting strawberries with his rations? We are 
 surely well fed. I have never enjoyed better 
 health. But say — I'll never be weaned from 
 little U. S. Here's what I dream about when 
 I dream about feed : Home-made bread, Butter — 
 Jelly!! Pie — ice cream — and say — did such a 
 thing as beefsteak ever exist or is that just an 
 idea I had? I'm not complaining one bit, for 
 I'm mighty glad I'm here, but— well, I'll sure be 
 glad to get home with you all, and eats have the 
 least to do with those sentiments. 
 
 We have had some mighty interesting experi- 
 ences here at camp and on our trips in spite of the
 
 Camion Letters 79 
 
 comparative inactivity at the front. Only last 
 night at midnight we were awakened by the sound 
 of shrapnel bursting and machine-gun fire. Some 
 of us got up and went out to investigate and found 
 the cause of the disturbance to be a German 
 aeroplane flying in this vicinity; dozens of power- 
 ful searchlights surrounded the camp at a radius 
 of probably a mile. These moved back and forth 
 searching the darkness for the intruder. Star 
 shells were sent up now and then to help in the 
 illumination. The German flew low over camp. 
 We could not see him, but he caused considerable 
 commotion and some excitement. 
 
 A few days ago up near the front we wit- 
 nessed an air fight between a German and two 
 French planes. After doing some damage the 
 German got away safe. It was a fast and excit- 
 ing game while it lasted. Not long ago a Ger- 
 man plane was dropped in full view of our camp 
 and I saw (a few days later) a French observa- 
 tion balloon go up in smoke, the occupants land- 
 ing safely in parachutes. There is much activity 
 in the air, there being many " flying " camps 
 near here. I have seen as many as twenty aero- 
 planes in the air at once and nearly every day
 
 80 Camion Letters 
 
 one sees an enemy plane being fired at. It is 
 only occasionally that a ground gun hits one, but 
 they make them keep high up in the air and 
 thus lessen their chances of taking photographs 
 of value. 
 
 As to the actual fighting on the ground we see 
 but little of it. Our trucks supply, almost ex- 
 clusively, the artillery which is located back of 
 or at the third line trenches. We carry the stuff 
 as close as possible to the guns — usually, because 
 of topography, from one-fourth to one-half mile 
 back, and the stuff is transported forward by 
 mules, burros, etc. We sometimes walk up to the 
 guns and watch them operate and an interesting 
 sight it is. The 75's are neat little guns which 
 fire up to twenty-four shells a minute. The first 
 time I watched one fire I thought the concussion 
 would drop me, and my ears rang for a week. 
 It is hard to see how the gunners stand up under 
 the strain for months at a time. 
 
 As far as we ourselves are concerned there 
 seems to be but little danger to our persons. We 
 do, of course, pass through territory that is 
 being shelled, but the chances for the individual 
 being hit are slight. The objective of the enemy
 
 Camion Letters 8r 
 
 in these places back of the line is usually a 
 bridge or road or important building. Knowing 
 the location of these objects they aim by maps, 
 etc., never by sight, as they are on hills out of 
 sight of anything back of the French lines. So 
 when a shell bursts alongside of a bridge over 
 which the convoi is travelling and buries itself 
 in the mud you say, " Missed it, you son of a 
 gun ! " and move on. 
 
 Often only a few cars go out at a time and 
 it has come to be quite the thing to see which 
 bunch can tell the wildest tale of adventure on 
 returning to camp. All in all, this work is just 
 an everyday grind out of which one who wishes 
 to can get a great deal, but there is no hero 
 stuff in the camion service and Kipling would 
 have a hard time writing a poem on the thrills of 
 a truck driver. Nevertheless I will have much 
 to tell you when I return, about experiences which 
 some of the boys have been through. 
 
 One of the looked-forward-to times is the time 
 when we are considered filthy enough to warrant 
 the expenditure of a little gasoline to transport 
 us — to Heaven via the swimming hole. On these 
 days we all pile into one of the trucks and go
 
 82 Camion Letters 
 
 to a wonderful spot in a little river a few miles 
 from camp. Here we spend two hours in the 
 double luxury of bathing and swimming. At 
 these times we are a great curiosity to the won- 
 dering French. Clothed in nature's own we 
 actually get wet all over and the French soldiers 
 don't understand it. Well, we have the times 
 of our lives on these occasions and the man who 
 refuses to go is a social outcast until the next 
 swim. 
 
 So you see our life here is a pleasant one. 
 We work and play and eat and sleep and I for 
 one am satisfied. I will indeed be glad, how- 
 ever, when this hellish affair in which we now 
 are participating is over. It is such a waste, not 
 alone in materials, — man will always be able to 
 feed and clothe himself, — but what is more im- 
 portant, in souls; and not those souls which have 
 passed on because of the war, but in those who 
 still live and will be alive after peace is declared. 
 Men cannot stay civilized under the conditions 
 imposed on both French and German privates. 
 Living in holes in the ground with nothing much 
 left to live for; hating not only the enemy, but 
 themselves and the civilization which made this
 
 Camion Letters 83 
 
 thing possible, they can't come out of this 
 dirt, in which they have floundered for nearly 
 three years, clean-hearted and straight. The 
 thing has rotted the very core of the civilization 
 they once knew. 
 
 It is hard to realize over there the misery which 
 these people have so willingly suffered. Witness 
 the story of the whole thing written on the face of 
 one French soldier who has been through it and 
 you have proof. My hope is that the United 
 States will not send a few men — she must send 
 millions of them if she does not wish to inflict on 
 a few the suffering and stinting of the soul which 
 all France has borne for all too long a time. 
 
 June 18. Was required to stop yesterday and 
 take charge of five of the cars on convoy which 
 left camp at 4 p.m. I said that we would 
 reach camp at about 2 a.m., but didn't realize 
 where we were going to unload when I said it. 
 We landed back in camp at 5 this morning 
 after the most interesting and exciting trip we 
 have ever taken. Our trip went as I said it 
 would up to the point where we waited for dark 
 before proceeding. When we started out again 
 we left intervals of one hundred yards between
 
 84 Camion Letters 
 
 camions and moved toward the front. We had 
 never been to the town where we were expected 
 to unload and soon found that it was closer to 
 activities than we had ever been before. For the 
 first time our entire convoy was in the region of 
 shell fire. 
 
 Shells dropped in and about the town, which 
 we found to be completely demolished and used 
 only as an artillery base. As soon as we arrived 
 we put the trucks in as safe places as possible 
 and hurried into dug-outs, there to remain as 
 long as the bombardment lasted. It was a most 
 interesting experience and an eye-opener and a 
 heart-breaker. Hundreds of men live or rather 
 exist in this town under ground. They either 
 dig out vast underground rooms or clean out the 
 debris in a cellar under a fallen building and 
 here put together beds and stay when not at the 
 guns. The places are clean but damp and I can 
 hardly realize how these men can keep their health 
 through years of that kind of life. 
 
 During a lull Tinkham and Slim and myself 
 went out into the dark and walked the " streets " 
 of this one time beautiful village. Everywhere 
 was wreckage; piles of stones which once were
 
 Camion Letters 85 
 
 buildings; shell craters fifteen feet across in the 
 streets and yards; stark trees stripped by shells. 
 Rats — the town was full of them and added to 
 the ghastly impression which one received of the 
 place. Well — things began to get hot again and 
 we made fof cover. At 1 130 in the morning 
 we considered it safe to unload, so woke up 
 the fellows and drove to the unloading station 
 at one end of the town. Here we were un- 
 loaded by a gang of laborers and at 3 started 
 back for the camp. Somehow, although I was 
 mighty glad to have been on the trip, it seemed 
 good to get out of that hell hole and as we 
 travelled back into the more quiet country and 
 watched the sun rise and breathed the cool, clean 
 morning air there were many thoughtful faces 
 in that bunch of usually so light-hearted fellows. 
 Arriving in camp at 5 this morning I found 
 your fine letter waiting for me. It came in last 
 night when I was out on the job — coming home 
 as I did nothing could have been more welcome 
 and refreshing than the good news from the best 
 of sisters. I'll sure write to you in the very 
 near future. Truly I'm a lucky sinner — so many 
 good things happen to me — and the best things
 
 86 Camion Letters 
 
   ■■■——■^——w—i^— —■»■■■■   i n i — —   — — —— — ^— — — *■ 
 
 that happen to me here are the letters from you 
 all with the good news from home. 
 
 Apropos of being lucky you will be interested 
 to know that I was promoted Sergeant while on 
 the job last night. Our First Sergeant was made 
 Chief of one of the new sections the day before 
 with the rank of Lieutenant, and so they pushed 
 me up a peg. I now have charge of one of the 
 two rames in the convois and in the barracks. 
 
 Some of the boys are beginning to get clip- 
 pings from the papers in the States telling in 
 the wildest manner possible the most impossible 
 tales about this Service. Every time one of the 
 exaggerated items is received a disgusted and 
 disappointed crowd is the result. We are glad 
 to get the clippings, but are sorry that the dope 
 cannot be handed out straight. Take what the 
 papers say about this Service or any other with 
 a grain of salt. France is too deeply buried in 
 this horrible mud called war to be greatly affected 
 by the arrival in its midst of a little group of 
 American boys, even though we do hail from 
 Cornell. 
 
 What gets me is that most of the articles print 
 CORNELL and America and then follows a lot
 
 Camion Letters 87 
 
 of piffle about Captain Tinkham and his bunch of 
 sturdy Cornell men going into the battle, cheered 
 by the French and English soldiers as they march 
 into the trenches. Imagine a Pierce 5-ton truck 
 marching into the trenches! I'm proud of the 
 Cornell section, however, for it is American to 
 
 the core, first and last. The other day a 
 
 College section arrived here. Jumping out of 
 the truck a cheer leader jumped upon a box and 
 led a lusty " rah, rah " yell. I was sur- 
 prised and more than pleased at the reception 
 this demonstration received at the hands of our 
 own boys. They simply rolled on the ground 
 with laughter and jeered the " prep school stuff " 
 down. It was rough on the new bunch, for they 
 are fine lads, but I think they learned the lesson 
 which many of our men needed — that it is no 
 
 longer or Cornell or XYZ fraternity, but a 
 
 man's game from the word go.
 
 88 Camion Letters 
 
 XXIV 
 
 June 2 5, ip 17. 
 
 Since my last letter written on the i6th, I 
 haven't received a word from home. The mails 
 are surely mighty slow, so I'm still hoping that 
 tonight will bring better luck. I haven't a great 
 deal of news this time, for our routine has been 
 about the same every day, but I'll get this started 
 so as to have my stride when the big mail comes 
 in and I have the fun of answering the home 
 letters. 
 
 First, being in a particularly selfish mood, I'll 
 begin by telling about myself. I guess I told 
 you in my last letter of my promotion. I am now 
 a Sergeant — some Sergeant— what ? Well, a few 
 days ago I was told the welcome news that I 
 would be one of the five men of our section to 
 go to Meaux. I told you of Meaux once, but had 
 no idea that my chance would come so soon. It 
 is there that men are trained to become officers of 
 transport sections, — so if I make good, my next 
 step will be Lieutenant in charge of a section — 
 I surely intend to work for it. We leave here 
 on July ist, and remain at the school five weeks.
 
 Camion Letters 89 
 
 We will get intensive training in maps, roads, 
 etc. — engine troubles and engines — magnetos, 
 etc. — drill, organization of the army and of 
 transportation, etc. Just a general intensive 
 course to fit the men for the work in the field! 
 Rusty goes with us, so I'll have a mighty good 
 companion. I surely am glad for him — and for 
 myself that he is going. 
 
 June 26. Evening. Here I am again after 
 another day of inactivity. Usually when we do 
 not go out on the road we are kept fairly busy 
 around the barracks, but today we almost had 
 a day off. Up at seven. Then after breakfast we 
 peeled potatoes — which was as usual quite a 
 party. The fellows all gather round a big sack of 
 spuds and talk. Once in a while a peeled potato 
 finds its way into the pan. Then the boys played 
 ball against one of the other sections and I 
 couldn't resist the temptation to go out and watch 
 the game. It was sure fun and " we " won 1 1 
 to 4. 
 
 We have dinner at 11, when in camp. After 
 dinner three of us walked up to town and had a 
 bath at the infirmary, where there is a fine hot 
 water shower bath rigged up. It is located in a
 
 90 Camion Letters 
 
 stable, but it is a great luxury. In town we found 
 a woman who had strawberries to sell and we 
 jumped at the chance. She took us to her 
 " home " in a loft over the shower, where she and 
 her husband told us of their three sons. 
 
 It is the story of thousands of mothers and 
 fathers here. The two of them were forced out 
 of their peasant home when the Germans made 
 their first advance over this territory. One of the 
 sons was killed at Verdun, one is a prisoner in 
 Germany now and has been since 19 14. The 
 other is a cavalryman active at the front now. 
 There can be few happy moments for that good 
 woman. Well, we bought the berries and took 
 them to a " store," where we sat down and 
 munched cookies and ate strawberries to our 
 heart's content. On returning to camp I just 
 lazed around until supper time and that brings me 
 up to now. 
 
 I saw the postman come and go again tonight 
 with nothing for me. I am consoled by the 
 knowledge that when he does come with my mail 
 there will be a great deal of it. I do long for 
 word from you all. 
 
 July 1st. I have been so busy since starting
 
 Camion Letters 91 
 
 this letter that this is my first chance to get back 
 to it. Let me tell you what I have been doing 
 and you will understand. 
 
 Wednesday night I was told to be ready at 6 
 a.m. Thursday for a trip to Paris to arrange for 
 the officers' school. We — that is those chosen 
 from the several sections — started in a bunch, 
 eighteen of us. Arrived at Paris about noon, we 
 went to the Field Service office, were sworn in, 
 and then had a day and a half to ourselves, which 
 we spent seeing Paris. I had many errands to 
 do for the boys in my section out at the front. 
 The time passed all too rapidly and we had to 
 leave Paris again. We landed here last night, had 
 supper at a beautiful old hotel and then were 
 taken out to camp. I sure am the lucky boy — 
 and for the life of me I can't figure out what I 
 have done to deserve all the good things that 
 come my way. 
 
 This school is a wonder. It has been running 
 since the beginning of the war, but up to a few 
 weeks ago only French officers were trained 
 here. The school is on the barracks style and is 
 strictly military in its routine, but as to equip- 
 ment it is ideal. Our course starts tomorrow so
 
 92 Camion Letters 
 
 I can't tell about the work, but it has a wonderful 
 reputation for efficiency. It will mean five weeks 
 of work (back to college again), and those who 
 pass the course will obtain commissions in the 
 Field Service. There is a possibility of the 
 United States taking over the Service, in which 
 case Americans graduated from Meaux would get 
 commissions in the United States Army. 
 
 This whole thing is so sudden as far as I am 
 concerned and I know so little about the school 
 that I will reserve the details of my new ex- 
 perience for my future letters. 
 
 This letter I must close and get off to you. I 
 am certainly pleased with the news of the activity 
 in the United States. Troops are already arriv- 
 ing in France and on talking to some of the 
 regulars (marines and army) in Paris I was 
 more than pleased, in fact proud, to learn of the 
 seriousness with which the United States is taking 
 the all too serious situation. I sure hope to be a 
 regular myself — soon. 
 
 I am hoping to hear from you all soon. Here's 
 lots of love to you all and best of wishes.
 
 Camion Letters 93 
 
 XXV 
 
 July 8, 19 17. 
 
 This is Sunday night and the end of the 
 first week in the new camp. It has been a 
 week full of interest and profitable employment. 
 I certainly consider myself fortunate in having 
 been chosen as one of the twenty Americans 
 here. 
 
 The finest thing that happened was the arrival 
 of two good letters from home. It was a long 
 wait, but it certainly was worth it, for I had re- 
 ceived no word from the States since the middle 
 of June. 
 
 Dad, here's to company A ! That is the spirit 
 that is going to win this war. If every one 
 will give to the extent that it is in his power to 
 give, in whatever form he is able, it will not be 
 long before the boys in khaki can finish their 
 round trip. What you call doing " your bit," 
 Dad, is as essential and as big a thing as a man's 
 bit who qualifies and goes to the front. I can't 
 express the pride I take in the spirit you show 
 and have shown throughout this crisis. Let me 
 know more about the things that Uncle Sam is
 
 94 Camion Letters 
 
 doing. Where do you fellows get together ? Are 
 the people really heart and soul behind this war ? 
 etc., etc. I tell you this thing is more serious 
 than most people think — almost everything de- 
 pends on the United States and she came in just 
 in time. I know that this is so. 
 
 We have entered on a grim, serious business 
 and the length of time we will be in it depends 
 absolutely on the attitude of our people. We 
 must keep cool and make the fewest possible 
 mistakes, but we must work fast and hard. We 
 are up against a big game — a miserable affair — 
 if we blunder there is no telling where or when 
 we will end. If the people over there will get 
 just one word fixed in their minds much good 
 will be accomplished and that word is — " Seri- 
 ous " ! This is not child's play — this is not San 
 Juan Hill, this is WAR — real war, — and the mere 
 fact that the United States is in it will not decide 
 the outcome. The United States must realize 
 that she is up against the stiffest proposition she 
 has ever been required to face and she must act 
 accordingly. 
 
 Politics must not be permitted to operate in 
 the selection of men to officer, — or in any of the
 
 Camion Letters 95 
 
 military operations. I hope the training camps 
 are free entirely from its influence. France looks 
 to the United States for big things. France is 
 depending on us and we must not disappoint her. 
 
 I'll tell you now how I am situated here, at 
 the Officers' School. The school is located just 
 outside of this very beautiful city. It was started 
 at the beginning of the war for the purpose of 
 training French non-coms, as officers in the Auto- 
 mobile Service of the armies. Up to two months 
 ago only Frenchmen were trained here, but on the 
 United States declaring war the French Army re- 
 quested the Field Service to branch into trans- 
 port work and on accepting the new responsibility, 
 Field Service men became eligible (on qualify- 
 ing) for the French Officers' School. The school 
 lasts five weeks each session and is usually full 
 to capacity. We are only the second bunch of 
 Americans to enter, and are twenty in number. 
 
 There are 150 Frenchmen here, but our work 
 being in English we have our own barracks, study 
 rooms, and shops. The camp consists of one big 
 office and supply shack 80 ft. x 20 ft., one dining 
 shack to accommodate 200 men (and the meals 
 are good), and eight barracks 80x20 ft. .We
 
 96 Camion Letters 
 
 have one of these. At the end of it is a wash- 
 room, then two rows of beds — ten on a side. 
 Then a partition with a door leading into our 
 lecture-study room, which is about 20 ft. by 30 
 ft., and arranged with blackboards, long tables, 
 and benches. Here we receive long lectures on 
 the technique of the automobile, lectures on the 
 organization of the French Army with particular 
 reference to the Automobile Service; lectures on 
 topography and map reading, and practice in the 
 same; lectures on organization of automobile 
 units, on sanitation, food, and care of men; on 
 duties of an officer in respect to his work and his 
 men; on convoy and road work, etc., etc. 
 
 Then there is a big amphitheatre, which we 
 of Cornell call Bailey Hall, which seats the en- 
 tire camp, and there are given lectures on engine 
 mechanics, etc. There are three long shops con- 
 taining automobiles and parts of every kind used 
 in the French Army. There we get practical work 
 in taking down machines, every part of which we 
 are required to draw, after which we reassemble 
 the machines and put them in working order. 
 
 There, too, we get lectures on shop practice. 
 We get demonstrations in welding, soldering, and
 
 Camion Letters 97 
 
 brazing — general repairs, etc. The whole course 
 is given with the aim of giving the men, who 
 are to officer units or sections, the knowledge 
 essential to hold down the job most efficiently. 
 There are two other long shacks used as study 
 rooms for the Frenchmen, and that completes the 
 list of structures. All the shacks are made of one 
 thickness of wood with cinder floors and are very 
 comfortable, though I don't see how the poor 
 fellows exist who take this course in winter. 
 
 Every other day we go out on a road trip and 
 get practice in the handling of the convoy on 
 service. Each man gets a turn as officer of the 
 day and takes full charge of the doings in camp 
 during his day on. The other days we drill and 
 each gets a turn at handling the unit on the 
 march. We are up at 5 a.m. Breakfast at 6 
 and then lectures, shop, drill or convoy until 6 
 in the evening. After supper until 10 is the 
 study hour and we usually use it. There are 
 notes to copy, drawings to make, etc., etc., so 
 that I can truthfully say that I have never put in 
 such long hours (except when I took Spanish). 
 But, though long, the hours are most profitable 
 and interesting. Though only a five weeks' course
 
 98 Camion Letters 
 
 it is exceedingly intense and thoroughly practical. 
 Were I given the choice between this and Platts- 
 burg I would take this, for we have seen and 
 are seeing the methods actually used at the front 
 and I do not think Plattsburg can equal the 
 actual reality. All of which means only that I am 
 satisfied. If I pass the course here I will have the 
 same rank as a French Lieutenant. If the States 
 takes over this service (as I hope it will) there 
 is a possibility of those who get by here retaining 
 the same positions under the Stars and Stripes. 
 
 We are in a wonderful part of France. If 
 you will look up the advance of the French offen- 
 sive you will realize just why. Here and in this 
 vicinity thousands of lives were lost in the Battle 
 of the Marne in the defense of Paris. The coun- 
 try in this immediate vicinity is bristling with 
 historic interest. When we were told that we 
 Americans would have a holiday on the Fourth of 
 July, three of us, — Rusty, Baker, and myself, — 
 rented bicycles and while the rest went to Paris 
 we wandered all over the map, visiting all the 
 towns included in the Battle of the Ourcq. It 
 was a wonderful day in every respect. The 
 scenery about here is exquisite — and we just took
 
 Camion Letters 99 
 
 our time over beautiful roads, into towns every 
 roof of which is of red tile, along the Marne and 
 the Ourcq, stopping at interesting points, talk- 
 ing " French " to people along the way and learn- 
 ing much of interest. I am not allowed to name 
 the towns, for some reason or other, but I have a 
 postcard collection of the whole thirty miles, 
 which I'll bring back with me and then I can 
 tell you all about it. 
 
 The 14th is the big French holiday and we 
 get Saturday and Sunday off then. We hope to 
 make a two-day trip at that time to we don't 
 know where yet, but feel that Paris would be a 
 waste of time when we have an opportunity to 
 see places now which will cover pages of history 
 in the future. 
 
 Well, that is about all the news. I'll be here 
 until August 4th, after which time I don't know 
 where I'll be. Better send mail to T. M. V. 526, 
 until further notice and don't forget to put on 
 Convois Automobiles. My mail will be for- 
 warded to me. 
 
 I am sending a couple of pictures of myself 
 along just to show what I look like on the job 
 and off. One was taken at the barracks at
 
 IOO Camion Letters 
 
 T. M. V. 526. The other was taken by one of 
 the boys somewhere on the road to the front. 
 The helmet is of steel, which when near the 
 front, we are required to wear. The gas mask 
 over my left shoulder is another required appen- 
 dage and the map case on my right side contains 
 military maps of the country in which the convoy 
 is working. There is one of each for each family 
 if you wish. 
 
 Well, I must close this and get to work. I 
 shall write more often while here. Am enjoying 
 the best of health and have nothing to complain 
 about and everything to be thankful for. Here's 
 hoping this finds you all well and happy. My 
 love to you all.
 
 The Writers 
 
 of the Letters are: 
 
 I-XI. 
 
 E. H. Pattison, Cornell. 
 
 XII-XIII. 
 
 J. L. Rothwell, Cornell. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 H. Byrd, Washington. 
 
 XV. 
 
 E. I. Tinkham, Cornell. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 D. Hinrichs, Cornell. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 A. Sherry, Cornell. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 R. E. Mackenzie, Cornell. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 I. Hall, Massachusetts Institute of Tech- 
 
 
 nology. 
 
 XX. 
 
 R. Durland, Massachusetts Institute of 
 
 
 Technology. 
 
 XXI-XXV. 
 
 R. A. Browning, Cornell.

 
 3V5 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
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