Grant R. Willard, American Volunteer

We live in denims all the time

2019-05-17T16:49:00.000-04:00

This is the last entry in Grant Willard's WWI diary. Just a few hours after he wrote these words, he and his unit boarded a ship for home.

Saturday, May 17, 1919:

Up at 5:30--breakfast at 6. At 7 o’clock we marched over to Camp #1 where we were again de-cootized. We were then taken over to barracks--92 men in one barracks with a permanent corporal in charge. Regulations are most strict. We live in denims all the time, are only allowed out of the barracks from 8-11 and 2-5 and then only for drill. No prospects of leaving.

The ship the 647 boarded was the U.S.S. Mallory. She left port early on the morning of May 18 and the men caught their last glimpse of France as the sun rose in the east.

I surely tore off some sleep.

2019-05-16T16:48:00.000-04:00

Almost two years to the day that Grant Willard sailed to France, he and his comrades prepared to sail home.

Tuesday, May 16, 1919:

We left Le Douet this A.M. at about 9 o’clock. Hiked with packs into Nantes station and boarded an American freight train bound for St. Nazaire. Our American engineer got us out exactly on time--11:25.

Well, we were a pretty happy gang. Reached St. Nazaire at 2 P.M. and hiked about six long kilometers to Camp #2. Passed many boats being loaded with troops. Reached camp by 5 P.M. very tired and hot. 5:30 we ate a fairly good mess after passing a medical examination before about a dozen doctors. I surely tore off some sleep.

2019-05-15T16:48:00.000-04:00

Thursday, May 15, 1919:

Got orders today to leave for St. Nazaire tomorrow A.M. at 10 o’clock. Great day in camp. They say our boat sails on Monday. Guy Smith out to camp and said good-bye.

“Detained indefinitely. Well. Love.”

2019-05-09T08:35:00.000-04:00

Guard duty and souvenir hunting...

Friday, May 9, 1919:

[The] 647 took the guard this P.M. at 4 o’clock for 24 hours. McCrackin is Sgt. I’m Corp. of the 2nd shift. Dev., Fratz, Kirk and Jim are my men. We went on at 6 this evening and continue on a schedule of 2 on and four off.

Cabled Dot yesterday: “Detained indefinitely. Well. Love.”

There is not much new dope. Lieut. Smith was ordered to Paris for reasons unknown. Left last night and expects to return tomorrow A.M.

A Sgt. under our transportation officer now teaching math in every school told Kirkpatrick and Johnnie that the 90th Div. was expected down here soon which will force us out. Whether it will force us on to the boat or not is still a question.

Went downtown yesterday with the idea of buying souvenirs for the family and Dot, but came back empty handed. There are many nice things over here for women as well as men and my head is chuck full of ideas, but all so impractical. Laces and silks are very beautiful and not too expensive, but there is no place to carry such things except in duffel bags where they would surely spoil under present treatment. I had some shell cases dressed and decorated while we were up in Verdun for Mother. I’ve bought a number of souvenir spoons for Sis and Dot. I would like to get them more if I could find something practical. Johnnie, Tib and Dad are problems. If they only smoked I could think of a million little handy souvenirs. Something may turn up yet.

We have given up hope of ever getting out of here.

2019-05-03T08:00:00.000-04:00

As April gave way to May, 1919, Grant Willard and his comrades were still stuck in tiny Le Douet on the outskirts of Nantes with little idea of when they would sail home. Boredom and anxiety mixed with military regimen.

Adding to the boredom was the fact that they were confined to camp for the days surrounding May Day, or International Workers' Day. It was probably his first exposure to the holiday as the year before he was very busy at the front. Even though International Workers' Day was founded to commemorate the laborers killed in the Haymarket Affair in Chicago in 1886, the holiday never caught on in the U.S. as it did around the world. Various labor organizations and the government promoted Labor Day in early September instead.

In this entry Grant also mentions the older sister of his good friend and fellow ambulance driver, Allen "Happy" Ahlers. "Hap" and Grant served together for the whole war. Following the Armistice, Harriet H. Alhers Houdlette (1891-1985) came to France as a volunteer with the American Red Cross.

Saturday, May 3, 1919:

Still here in this little hole of Le Douet within striking distance of Nantes and yet too far off when one is “broke” as most of us are now. We have given up hope of ever getting out of here. A week ago today Lieut. Smith was told by the embarkation officer that we would leave yesterday. But nothing has come of any of these rumors and we have given up hope.

Lieut. Smith returned from Chaumont yesterday where he went in quest of these 17 Croix de Guerre that were promised us. He has made no formal statement yet, but Jack said last night that he was unsuccessful.

And so we hang on from day to day flitting from rumor to rumor, doing our daily drill and fatigue, not without complaint to be sure, but desperately and halfheartedly. Oh that I had only been demobilized over here when I had the chance.

For the past three days we have been held close to our barracks being prohibited from leaving the town because of French labor demonstrations. It seems that these three days are set aside for the French labor parties to celebrate in whatever way they see fit. They see fit in staying intoxicated most of the time and I guess the authorities are afraid of trouble if the Americans try to mix in.

It’s reported that we get paid Monday or Tuesday.

Allen Alhers (left) with Grant Willard in 1917.

Harriet Ahlers is in Paris, having just arrived in Red Cross work. Hap received a letter from her from Brest and sent a reply by Lieut. Smith which he delivered in person in Paris. She can’t come down here and Hap can’t go to Paris. Tough.

Shall not cable when we leave because I am broke flat and so is everybody else.

2019-04-22T08:00:00.000-04:00

Homesick, broke and frustrated, Grant tells his troubles to his family in Mankato.

Nantes, France
April 22, 1919

Dearest Family:-

If I were only in a position to say this to you instead of writing it to you I would be the happiest boy in all the world. But I’m not so why crab?

Willard home, Mankato, MN

We all hoped and believed that when we left Bretzenheim on the 26th of last month we would not have another opportunity of writing letters from this continent but the army has decreed otherwise. We are here in Nantes awaiting shipping orders and have been since April 9th. Everything looks blue and we are all feeling blue. We are under stiff military rules and regulations with little time and no place to play. It would not have been so bad if we had arrived down here expecting to be treated thusly but we weren’t prepared. Like children we expected to be shipped immediately. The let-down has been far from easy.

On April 14th I sent the following cable to Dot: “Section held at port. Home soon. Forward folks.” I was too near “broke” to send two cables and foolish enough to believe rumors of an early get-away. In this way I account for and excuse the “home soon” and “forward folks”. I hope the cable reached you. Dot should have received it on April 15.

On the evening of April 14 I was keeping time at a basket ball game in the YMCA at Nantes when a large YMCA man came up and introduced himself as Guy Smith. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t know him and had his introductory speech not given me ground to stand on I should have been very much embarrassed because I felt that he was someone I should know very well. We had quite a visit. He seems to be doing a big work as athletic director in this district and likes his work but is very anxious to get home. So say we all of us! He wanted me to be sure to remember him to you with his very best regards.

Grant with Hap Ahlers (left)

Hap is well and crabbing with the rest of us. He cabled his family the same day I did.

As to our departure there are no present reliable rumors. I can only say that we all sincerely hope that we are on American soil before this letter reaches you.

Am well and kicking—thinking hard of the future. Will be demobilized in the east somewhere if possible. Hope to see some of the family there when we arrive but wouldn’t advise your leaving Mankato to see me yet awhile.

All kinds of love,

Your homesick son,
Grant.

P.S.:--Shall not cable when we leave because I am broke flat and so is everybody else.---GRW.

Easter! What an Easter!

2019-04-20T08:00:00.000-04:00

Sunday, April 20, 1919, was Easter Sunday--the second that Grant Willard passed in France. He thoughts were undoubtedly of home and family that day though he didn't mention it in his diary.

Saturday, April 19, 1919:

New clothing issued in preparation of another inspection tomorrow. Received two letter today--1 from Mother dated Apr. 2 and 1 from Zella dated April 3. Very surprised to get them. 647 was alone in the contingent in receiving mail.

Sunday, April 20:

Easter! What an Easter! Fratz, Hap and I went out to a ball game between the S.S.U. and S.O.S. We won easily by a score of 8-1. Draper pitched a good game for us assisted by Brown and Lt. Gunkle. Spent the rest of the day in cleaning and pressing clothes in preparation for coming inspection.

Boredom, Boxing and Inspections

2019-04-19T10:35:00.002-04:00

Wednesday, April 16, 1919:
    Nothing new except rumors. New dope says we will be inspected on Friday by inspector general from St. Nazaire. Two preliminary inspections tomorrow. Regular medical this A.M.

Thursday, April 17:
    Two pack inspections today preliminary to final tomorrow. More red tape than ever. Lieutenant Smith very encouraging in his remarks. Say things never looked better toward a getaway since our arrival. Went downtown tonight with Chalfant, Johnnie, Hap, Risley, Savage to see YMCA boxing matches. There were about 6 bouts--some were very good. One S.S.U. man (Edwards 506) was represented and fought a hospital man 3 tow-minute rounds to a draw. If Edwards had had the experience he would have knocked his opponent out in the 2 round.

Friday, April 18:
    The only thing good about this Good Friday is the sunshine. We stood inspection before a Major from St. Nazaire-inspector general. It went pretty well, but not good enough. Our drill and packs were alright, but our clothing he would not pass. We are to be issued new clothes and stand clothing inspection next Sunday or Monday. The Major said he had inspected some 30,000 troops in base ports recently and that our contingent of 402 men had by far the most decorations of any body of troops he had seen. “The men must have better looking uniforms to go with the decorations.”

We spent four hours in eating chocolate éclairs. The pastries in this town are marvelous.

2019-04-15T08:00:00.000-04:00

Just five days after arriving in camp at Le Douet Grant and his comrades were beset by boredom and frustration. The fighting had ceased five months before and yet they had no certain information about when they would sail home.

He cabled his fiance, Dorothy, that he was delayed, and it cost him the equivalent of nearly $36 in today's market. He was so broke that he couldn't afford a second telegram to his family in Minnesota, and asked Dot to "forward" the message. In this age of Twitter and texting, it's difficult to fathom a mode of communication that was considered the texting of its day taking two days or more to reach its intended recipient.

At least the pastries were good...

Monday, April 14, 1919:

No new dope. Dirk, Hap, Fratz and I went to Nantes this P.M. Sent Dot the following cablegram: "Section held at Port. Home soon. Forward folks." It cost me 17 frs. 40 c. My supply of cash is low so I couldn’t afford one to the family. Dot should receive the cablegram day after tomorrow. We spent the rest of our four hours in eating chocolate eclairs. The pastries in this town are marvelous.

Tuesday, April 15:

Absolutely nothing new. The weather is rotten. Cold, windy and rainy. The only good day we have had since our arrival here was Sunday afternoon. They say it rains 360 days out of the year down here. Some hole to put a bunch like this in and there to wait indefinitely. There are not even encouraging reports anymore. No chance to get athletics started--no fields and all water. Our quarters are cold and uncomfortable with no place to sit except on the floor. Cafe hours are 12-2 and 6-9. During these hours there is a mad rush for the warm places. The rest of the time we just loaf when not on detail.

Lieutenant Smith is Camp Adjoint [assistant or substitute]. He is doing everything he can for the good of the contingent, but he has as his superior officer a West Point Colonel who is quite obstinate and the other officer of this contingent are very inefficient. I sure feel sorry for the Lieut.

At the YMCA last night watching a basketball game between the Fatimas and Camels when a large YMCA man came up and asked my name.

“Willard from Mankato?” he asked.

“The same,” I replied.

Whereupon he fell on my neck and told the assembled multitude many things about myself which I had never heard before. His name is Guy Smith. I know who he is now, but he had me guessing for awhile. Was glad to see him and hope we meet again.

Inspected by General Pershing today... a great disappointment.

2019-04-13T08:00:00.000-04:00

Now every day closer to home, Section 647 made its way by rail from quarantine camp at Ferrières-en-Gâtinais more than 200 miles to the west to a village outside Nantes called Le Douet. Here they would sit and wait... and wait.

While in Le Douet the 647 was inspected by none other than the commander of the American Expeditionary Forces--General John J. "Black Jack" Pershing. Grant was not impressed.

Tuesday, April 8, 1919:

We left Base Camp this P.M. at 2 o’clock. Lieut. Smith is contingent commander so we see little of him. Jack Swain is our highest officer and makes a good one.

Wednesday, April 9:

Spent a tough night in our box-car, but what’s the difference--we’re going home! Arrived in Nantes, after a beautiful trip during the daylight about 5 P.M. We were marched about 5 km out into the country and billeted in a small town called Le Douet. Very, very tired and footsore.

Thursday, April 10:

Rotten weather and spirits very low. Have just been talking with a boy in a hospital unit who had been here for 5 weeks and didn’t know when they were going to sail.

Friday, April 11:

Still in Le Douet doing dirty details.

Saturday, April 12:

La même chose!

Sunday, April 13:

John J. Pershing (1860-1948)

Inspected by General Pershing today. Made us a very poor speech. He was a great disappointment. “American arms are the greatest in the world. The American Nation is the greatest nation in the world. The allied morale was about to break when America came into the war. America won the war.” These are a few thing he told us. If John [Pershing] expects to be elected President of the U.S. he’ll never do it on such a speech and I hope he doesn’t at all.

Note to reader: There was a movement to draft Pershing for GOP presidential nomination in 1920. At the time he said he wouldn't actively campaign but also wouldn't refuse to serve. Of course, the nomination (and presidency) went to Warren Harding instead.

Got de-cootized today which was a big farce.

2019-04-07T07:31:00.001-04:00

SSU 647 passed out of existence in April 1919. As the ambulance men turned in their well-worn Fords at base camp in the ancient town of Ferrières-en-Gâtinais, the SSU was dropped from the group's name and became simply Section 647 awaiting demobilization.

Tuesday, April 1, 1919:

Sent my trunk home via Am. Express costing me 104,50 francs, closed out my account with Morgan Harjes and beat it for St. Cloud.

At 1:30 we drove to Ferrières Base Camp--our last drive in our old Fords. 644, 649, 598 and we were on the road at the same time--a good race. We all pulled into Base Camp about the same time, left our cars and were given poor barracks.

Wednesday, April 2:

Busy, busy times! Reports are going in and everything is being checked up. Tomorrow we go into quarantine. Everything is being rushed and looks most encouraging toward an early getaway. The old Base Camp life over again--details, details, details--all absolutely ridiculous.

Ferrières Quarantine Camp

Sgt.-Major Prince told me last night that we will leave for Brest next Saturday or Sunday and will board a boat in not longer than 48 hours layover. I told him I’d buy him a great feed when we all got back if his report is true.

Thursday, April 3:

Got de-cootized today which was a big farce. It consisted of standing under lukewarm water for two minutes on a cold day in a cold bath house. Then in our underwear we ran a quarter of a mile to another building there to stand around shivering until our clothes were returned from a steaming machine. They were damp when we got them and I shivered for an hour before mine came at all. Then we moved into quarantine quarters and were not allowed out except, of course, for details. Men on detail could be sent anywhere.

Friday, April 4:

647 stood guard last night again. There are 11 sections here in quarantine and go to make up our contingent. There is much paper work to be done before we are ready to go. All accounts must be straightened up, service records checked up and transportation papers made out. Boddie, Soles, and the Lieutenant are very, very busy in the office. About eight Parc A boys are now in our section together with Sgt. Chalfont and Sgt. Sullivan bringing our enrollment up to 40. Astlett, Gaynor, McEnness, Putnam have left the section to be demobilized over here. Titchner has left for a permission in England to be sent home later as a casual.

Saturday, April 5:

The dope is that we leave tomorrow for St. Nazaire instead of Brest. We are being issued out complete traveling equipment today. I will tomorrow carry the first military pack of my life.

Sunday, April 6:

Orders countermanded! We leave tomorrow.

Monday, April 7:

Orders are again countermanded! We leave tomorrow!???x x x x x

My stuff was so moth eaten that I had to give all my clothes away, keeping only souvenirs.

2019-03-31T10:36:00.000-04:00

By March 1919 Grant Willard had been away from home for nearly two years. It was the longest stretch of time that he had ever been, indeed would ever be, separated from loved ones in his life. As you will notice from this series of letters and diary entries, he was excited and anxious to return home and get on with life.

Bretzenhem, Germany,
March 15, 1919.

Dear Dad:-

[General Order] 40 has just arrived. It’s an order regarding demobilization on foreign soil of officers and men who enlisted in the American Army on foreign soil. We will be demobilized over here unless we file an application to be transported to America and demobilized through regular military channels there. By filing such an application we waive all claims on transportation or transportation money to the place of enlistment. Demobilization through regular military channels means that we will be shipped to the military camp nearest our home. I would go to Ft. Snelling for my discharge papers, as I read the order.

Now then, should I decide to receive my discharge on this side: After reaching Base Camp with the section this month or the first of next I would be sent to a small place near Tours called St. Agnant, there to remain probably a week before the papers were ready. Then with $60 which is paid to every soldier as he is discharged I would be turned loose—a free man once again. Where would I go and what would I do? Probably the first thing I would do is wire for money. That’s where you come in and, as you will see before I finish this letter, yours would be no small part. Next would come the battle of Paris—packing and repacking my trunk, looking over my civilian clothes and trying to get into them. I have no idea they’ll fit and even if they do they are pretty badly moth eaten. My old Norton-Harjes uniform is so badly eaten that it is impossible. I wouldn’t wear an army uniform so 9 to 1 I would have to buy a suit of civilians. Prices in Paris are worse now than they have ever been. 70 francs a day is as fair an estimate as I can make under present conditions. Then would come the tussle for passage home. Everything leaving French ports is now reserved until the middle of May. Everything leaving England is even worse. By the time we get in it would be impossible to make a booking before the latter part of June. In the meantime I would hike for England where living conditions are much more reasonable. If I had the money I should like to spend a month in England but it would take more than I care to ask for unless I ran on to some very kind friends. Under this plan I should be fortunate to arrive in America by the latter part of July.

The other plan: Stick with the section. Get 24 hours in Paris when we turn our cars in. Send my trunk home either by American Express Co. @ 75 francs per 100 lbs. with $1000 insurance or let the Govt. send it home for nothing with no insurance. Board a transport probably sometime around the middle of April and arrive the latter part of April or the first part of May (I hope.) Then I understand we go to Camp Dix, New Jersey. If all right with you I will endeavor to get my discharge at Camp Dix instead of Ft. Snelling and spend awhile with Dot before coming west. This plan will only require enough money to keep me going in the east and pay my expenses to Minnesota. To get mustered out over here I figure would cost $500 if I were to see England at all which would be the strongest argument in favor of staying. To be taken back by the army wouldn’t cost me more than a fifth of $500, I shouldn’t think.

Needless to say I have decided to follow out the latter course.

I would like to see England but it isn’t worth the money now. Conditions are bad over here now. There are hundreds of people waiting for transportation. The American Army has control of the majority of boats between here and America so much so that the Canadians are pretty peeved. In the meantime Paris and French base ports as well as London and Liverpool are swarming with people of all descriptions waiting to get out. Prices in France have soared sky-high. England has managed to regulate prices in such a way that living isn’t so terribly expensive over there. But transportation being so uncertain makes definite plans and budgets impossible.

Am enclosing a picture of the section taken beside our barracks in Mainz. In the background can be seen a few of the German cannon turned in to the French according to the Armistice terms. That is—the terms as the Germans tried to read them—but the majority of the stuff turned in was junked because of its antiquity and modern guns required.

The mark is worth 50 centimes up here now.

Love,
Grant.

P.S. Don’t try to send me any money. I’ll wire for some if I need it—when I’m safe in the States.
GRW.

* * * *

Bretzenheim, Germany.
March 24, 1919

Dear Mother:-

Have just come back from Coblenz and am very tired but must write you now because I may not get another chance for some time. Since Sgt. Snader left for Poland in Relief work I have taken on his job as mess sgt and my trip to Coblenz today was for the purpose of buying supplies for our trip into Paris. When I left here with Johnny Taylor in his car this morning it was with order to buy enough food for a 10 day trip into Paris on flat cars. The French objected to a convoy because of the price of gasoline so they planned on making up a freight train for three sections (644, 649 and 647) and sending us in on a freight special. Needless to say, we were disappointed because we have been looking forward to a convoy along the old battle front for a long time.

When we returned this evening, with not nearly so much food as I should have liked, it was to find that the transportation order had been changed because of a shortage of freight cars and that we are to convoy to Paris, leaving as soon as is convenient after the 25th. Well now! We aren’t going to waste much time in convenience. If we can clean up what more there is to do around here in one more day I think that day after tomorrow, Wednesday, March 26, will find us on the road at a très bonne heure. Our route will take us right down the old line and give us a good chance to see some interesting country. However, poor roads may necessitate changes in route. The weather has been quite disagreeable of late so that soft roads are going to be not only slow but dangerous.

Haven’t heard from you all for sometime, accountable is the fact that our mail is probably being held in Paris for us. Am not worried—very happy at the present prospects of getting out of here and starting our long trip home.

Heaps of love,
Son.

* * * *

Wednesday, March 26:

Left Bretzenheim this A.M. about 7 o’clock en convoy for Paris. A beautiful day but cold. We came by way of Kaierslautern reaching St. Avold about 5 P.M. for the first night. ‘Twas a good jump--about 215 km. Every car present except the Packard & kitchen which pulled in about dusk.

Thursday, March 27:

Made a 7 o’clock start for St. Menehould via Metz & Verdun. We passed through Metz about 10:30 stopping at the Parc for food supplies. By noon we were in Verdun coming in by way of Belfort. The roads were terrible coming across no-man’s-land, but it was well worth the risk of broken springs. The weather was cold and raining. Before entering the city we came right down past our old hospital at Beauveaux over the same roads we traveled a year ago last August when excitement was keen. We laid over in Verdun 3 hours during which time Astlett, Hap, Fratz, Johnnie & myself jumped in Eric’s car and made the Citern, Lasource and Carrière Sud. The most interesting trip I ever took. The devastation is greater than any of us have seen before or since--beyond imagination. Our posts looked very much the same. Many nurses & Am. officers are sight seeing up there now.

647 in Verdun, March 1919

After running through snow, rain and wind all afternoon we reached St. Menehould about 5 P.M. and spent the night there. We are all soaked to the skin, but happy because we are on our way home.

Friday, March 28:

Made a late start (9 A.M.) for Rheims [Reims]. Weather rotten! Passed down through pernay and along the Rheims front. Roads bad and once we had to turn around in no-man’s-land because the road had not yet been repaired. We reached Rheims about 4:30 P.M. every car present and running fine. Went to bed early.

Near Reims, France

Saturday, March 29:

Spent the day in Rheims seeing the city and working on my car. Weather still rotten! Rheims is a wreak and I don’t see how in the world it is ever going to be repaired though some civilians who have returned are very hopeful, others are very pessimistic. The Cathedral is already being repaired. Of the 20,000 houses in Rheims 13,000 are total wrecks and 2,000 more are called "irreparable." I didn’t see a single building which had not been hit at least once. The most of this had not been done since 1917. The amount of destruction around the Cathedral shows very clearly that the Boche intended that this edifice should be totally wrecked. Not one shell of the many which hit the Cathedral exploded within its walls. Only one entered the building without passing through it and this one was a “dud.”

Reims Cathedral (2010)

Sunday, March 30:

Made a 7 o’clock start this A.M. for Meaux via Chateau-Thierry. A rather interesting day, but not to be compared with the others. Reached Meaux about 3:30 and Woodie & I arranged a section feed for the boys downtown. We had a good feed and good time.

Monday, March 31:

Pulled into Paris this A.M. about 11 o’clock and parked our cars at St. Cloud. We are given until 11:30 tomorrow A.M. in Paris to arrange personal matters. Hap, Fratz and I went in reserved a room at the [Hotel] États Unis and got busy on baggage. My stuff at the [Hotel] Mt. Thabor was so moth eaten that I had to give all my clothes away, keeping only souvenirs. We ate this evening at Viares. In the evening we went to the casino.

Have really grown quite attached to the old boiler and would like to bring it home with me.

2019-03-12T08:00:00.000-04:00

Convois Autos.,
S.S.U. 647,
Par B.C.M.
France

Bretzenheim, Germany
March 12, 1919

Dearest Mother:-

Thirteen more days and we expect to leave these parts for Paris. We are taking advantage of these beautiful days by working on our cars and getting them in as perfect shape as possible for our return trip. My car never ran better since leaving Ft. de Vanves a year ago last month that it is running right now. It seems to have taken new life with the rest of us at the prospects of being “mustered out.” Have really grown quite attached to the old boiler and would like to bring it home with me. There is not a bolt or a part on the car that I have not tampered with. I wonder what is going to become of all the ambulances and trucks which are daily being turned in? Most of them are in no shape to be taken back to the States.

John H. Willard between the wars.

Your last letter to me enclosed a picture of yourself, Sis and Johnny. I would have recognized you and Marion hasn’t changed much as I remember her but John I shouldn’t have known if I had met him on the streets of Mankato. I’ve never seen a bigger change in anybody. Maybe it was the uniform which made such a great difference. You know I never did have a chance to get very well acquainted with John in long trousers. In my mind’s eye I always see him in short pants and not very large. This last picture makes him look like someone I never saw. If he meets me at the train when I get home he’d better wear his name in large letters in some very conspicuous place or I certainly shall pass him up. – Mother, you actually look younger than when I last saw you. How do you do it? Is Dad growing correspondingly young? Sis isn’t quite as plump as I remember her. I like her better the other way. Quite a display of hardware she’s wearing. Did Bill send her those from this side?

Johnny Taylor and Eric Astlett have just returned from a seven day permission in England. They had a wonderful time. Both have relatives and many friends there which added considerably to their good times. They say it was just like leaving home when they had to start back. Food conditions there are good, they say, compared with what it is in Germany and even France. Butter, for instance, is hard to get but the boys say that the margarine is every bit as good. Their report of England and English people made me sorry than ever that these new permission regulations were not in vogue when Fraser and I went on our permissions. We will not have another chance to get over there now.

-SECTION NEWS-

The gang is sitting outside the window enjoying the warm sun and fresh air. They are going over them many old things which have taken place since we were made a section. Just now they are ragging one another about certain incidents on the baseball diamond. Jack Swain from Dallas, Texas is retelling in his very funny way of how Fraser over-ran second-base, in a game we played in Nancy, and slid for a rock somewhere out in left field, thinking it was the base.

Cook Tom, the friend of all homeless cats, has found a new pet and pal. It’s a little, sick, mangy, yellow cat. Tom calls him Sam McGee because he’s always cold and is continually hanging the stove. At night he sleeps in the oven or fire-box. There were a few live coals in the fire-box when Sam jumped in the other night and he had to sacrifice a good share of his hair to keep warm. But Sam gladly made the sacrifice. This morning Sam was in the oven when Tom built the fire. Not seeing him there Tom partly closed the oven door and wen after the coffee water. When he returned he saw two paws sticking up through the crack in the door in “Kamarad” fashion. When Tom opened the door Sam showed more life than he has for the week he has been with us.

Old Roland with ambulance men

Am enclosing a few photographs of a few of our past mascots. Old Roland was the most fun. You couldn’t help but laugh every time you looked at him even when he was sober which only during working hours on week days when he worked off all the effects of his wine. Roland is the Chief of Police and the Chief of the Fire Department of Lagny, France. He’s a good all round man. During the day he hires out on some ditch or garden job and during the evening he consumes wine.

In the picture of Apremont if you look closely you may see your little “tin soldier” in the act of carrying a bucket of water to his car which has a white towel hanging over the radiator. This particular piece of ground and up on the hill in the background were scenes of some very severe fighting.

Love,
Grant.

I have endeavored to fill my days without the use of cheap fiction stimuli.

2019-03-06T08:00:00.000-05:00

In this letter to his father and some diary entries written at the same time, Grant discusses more details of the army's plans to send them home. And he makes reference to stress caused him by his fiance's troubling mental attitude.

Convois Autos.,
S.S.U. 647,
Par B.C.M.
France

Bretzenheim, Germany
March 1, 1919

Dear Dad:-

Your letter of Feb. 10 caught me last night prone on my bed reading The Fighting Chance by Rob’t. W. Chambers. I had reached the point in the story where the hero had about won the battle and all he needed was the girl to cinch the deal. I postponed the cinching part until after I had read your letter. The lack of good reading material out here is distressing. Occasionally the K.C. gives us a new batch of Top Notch, All Story, Strand, etc., but these are not very satisfactory. I have endeavored to fill my days without the use of cheap fiction stimuli. Have succeeded pretty well through the medium of letter writing, filling in spare moments with a huge volume of the History of Europe since 1812. The weather is clearing up and the ground is about dry so we are growing more and more into the outdoor life (other than driving, I mean) – hunting (rabbits primarily), baseball, football, soccer – most anything. For indoor sports these last few months we’ve had a great deal of fun on bowling alleys in Mayence, English and straight billiard tables; scheduled tournaments among ourselves, challenges of one man to another then the selecting of teams – all has helped tremendously in maintaining a quite marvelous esprit de corps with the section. While other units have been having considerable trouble within their own organization in maintaining that spirit of good fellowship so essential to a life such as this, we have grown closer together if anything. I’m pretty sure we could go through another war without the slightest friction within the unit if we had to.

Grant's dad, W.D. Willard

But all of this has nothing to do with our getting back to the States. The next is a little more promising these days, Dad. Lieut. Kendrick came rushing into camp the other day and said that orders were now in our “auto parc” for his section (649) and ours to leave these parts in convoy for base camp on the 26th of this month. We are also scheduled for base camp in the last official reports printed in the Radiator. This should mean the States by the latter part of April. What will happen over there you probably know better than we. What are they doing with the U.S.A.A.S. men as they reach the States?

That makes me think: in my last letter to Sis I urged your coming east about the time I was due to arrive but the more I think it over the useless the idea seems. We may be sent to a camp in Alabama, for instance. Who knows? There will undoubtedly be some period of waiting before we are mustered out. We may be given a furlough during this period and we may not. If agreeable to you and if possible I should like to spend three or four weeks in the east with Dot before I come west. But these are things which will have to be settled after I arrive in America. Here’s hoping that April will see us there!

Another thing, Dad – don’t tack Sergeant on to my name. I’ll tell you the story in brief: Last November we ran short of sergeants – one having been made a private by request, one made a lieutenant and sent to another section and one called in to go to school. None were expected back. Swain, Snader and I were called into conference with the lieutenant and told that if we did not take the jobs vacated that he would have to handle it through headquarters which would mean their sending out three new sergeants from base camp because of overabundance of such at camp. Obviously this was not desired. Besides we had had an experience with one such a short time before. So we took the jobs as unwarranted sergeants appointed by our lieutenant. I handled details and assignments. Swain handled the cars and shop. Snader was the mess sergeant merely continuing with the work he had previously been doing as a private. Everything sailed smoothly until Christmas time when our old warranted sergeant, who had been sent in to school and who was not expected back, suddenly put in an appearance. My department had formerly been his. He was warranted, I was not but I was determined to continue with the work until asked to discontinue by the lieutenant, who appointed me. Then came a trip to Speyer which kept me away from camp for a day and a half. When I returned I found that I had been relieved of my duties. Details were posted on the bulletin board signed by the warranted member. Thinking that it was official and that I would be notified as soon as I saw the lieutenant I automatically retired. Nothing was said to me by the lieutenant so I went to him and asked to be officially relieved, that four sergeants were too many and that the warranted member I couldn’t get along because of differences in methods. He told me that I had made a mistake in letting him take my work away from me, that it was not official and against his wishes but that as long as I didn’t want to continue he would let things slide for awhile but would not officially relieve me. And so it has been ever since. I am officially still a sergeant but have no duties. It’s very embarrassing to me as well as to the warranted member. I am not put on details as I wish to be. Have been to the Lieut. twice more and each time he has said “wait.” Why, I don’t know. I don’t want the job and never did. It means nothing in this outfit except someone to look after a few odds and ends and trash. No discipline is necessary in this outfit and has never been used. So you see that while technically I am still sergeant I am no longer known as “serg” among the fellows. Just “Jess.”

Am enclosing a clipping which appeared in the Stars & Stripes not long ago regarding the organization of S.S.U. Please save it somewhere because I may need it for reference.

German money continues to decrease in value. We now get two marks for every franc. Formally it was 1.42, the 1.62, now 2. Is Germany going all to pieces?

Lovingly,
Grant.

Sunday, March 2:

A beautiful day! Fraser, Stender and I took a long walk out over the fields. We saw many rabbits. My what whoppers! We wasted all our ammunition because they are almost impossible to hit with a gat. Once in awhile they will sit up and give you a shot at them. With a rifle it is quite possible to get them. The boys are very successful with the shotguns.

Went down to bowl this evening, but found the alleys already occupied so we played billiards – Fraser, Soles, Woodie and I.

Monday, March 3:

Rainy and miserable. Stayed in most of the day reading and writing. Played billiards in the evening with Woodell, Fraser and Soles.

Tuesday, March 4:

The same as yesterday – cold wet. Titchner and I lost to Burt and McCrackin in bridge and in the afternoon Tich and I went to the Kurfürst for billiards.

Wednesday, March 5:

The Distinguished Service Cross men came back today and the camp listened to their experiences all day. The purpose of their being called in was a picture of each man which took about 5 minutes. It is further affirmed that we are going into Base Camp about the 25th or 26th of this month. There, it is reported, we lead an easy life, but that the food is none too good. We are quarantined for a week just before sailing and very likely will be in camp about 2 weeks, depending upon transportation facilities. If the weather is decent there will be plenty of time for sports.

Thursday, March 6:

Luykx and Hap left today for 3 days in Paris. Am on call today – none came in. Played bridge in the evening and Tich and I again lost to Burt and McCrackin. Much mail came in. Got 1 from Dot, 1 from Mother enclosing photographs of herself, Sis and Johnnie, 1 from Mr. Well and News Letter from the Plymouth Congregational.

Dorothy Houghton Willard (1894-1979)

Dot worries me considerably. Slept very little tonight because I couldn’t get over the tone of her letter. She seems to be losing hold on things. She’s brooding over what cannot be altered.

When in Paris I looked up my trunk and found it swarming with moths and everything completely ruined.

2019-02-17T08:00:00.000-05:00

Grant sends a newsy letter to his mom...

Bretzenheim, Germany
Feb. 17, 1919

Mother dear:-

The permissionaires returned to their post last Friday evening after a very enjoyable ride from Paris up here. We were fortunate enough to get seats in a second class compartment as far as Strasbourg where we laid over for a day and a half to see is French the town and rest up. Strasbourg is a very attractive city indeed with many points of interest for the tourist. Everything is French there now – the German population having been sent back to their own soil. To be sure, one hears German being spoken on every side but those who speak German there now are of French blood and can also speak French. Everybody seems to be very happy. The French have made an extra effort to furnish reconquered Alsace Lorraine with all necessities and luxuries which she herself knows. Strasbourg, being the capital, is very well supplied with fresh stocks in foods and clothing and selling them at very reasonable prices. The cathedral of Strasbourg is, of course, the chief point of interest for all tourists. And the chief point of interest within the Cathedral is the Astronomical clock started in 1838 and completed in 1842. It’s really a remarkable thing. The enclosed card will give you an idea of how the clock looks and if you can make out the description on the reverse side you will know much more about the clock than I can tell you. We just missed seeing the clock perform at 12 o’clock but were there for 12:15. At 12 the whole blooming thing goes into action. It’s like a three-ringed circus. One can’t take it all in in one performance. The cathedral itself is beautiful. I don’t know much about architectural criticism but I do know when I like stained glass. The windows are magnificent. But I’m not going to waste this perfectly good stationery by an unintelligent discussion of art.

Strasbourg Cathedral

As I say, we reached Mainz last Friday evening very glad indeed to be back with the boys in our comfortable barracks and very tired of traveling. You will all hear a great deal more about this permission of ours when we are together again because the whole experience was one succession of thrills. So when I speak of “that permission” please remember that I refer to our first leave under American Army rules and regulations.

There was much mail awaiting us in camp. I drew 19 letters, three of which were from you dated Jan. 3, 15 and 23 respectively. They were a fine collection, Mother, and made me feel very good indeed. Will take them upon more in detail in just a few minutes.

Yesterday, Sunday, we moved from our comfortable quarters in Mainz and are now located about two miles from that city in a small place called Bretzenheim. We are living in the school house. While our new home is not as attractive as the old we are quite comfortable and have no grounds for complaint. We have plenty of heat which is the big item just now. The artificial lighting facilities are poor (being kerosene lamps) but three months ago we would have considered ourselves very fortunate to have been quartered in such a spacious place with so little routine to pester us. The cause for our having to leave the barracks was the arrival of many French combatant troops. Today is the Armistice Day and rumors of more war are flying thick and fast. The roads have been choked for a week with troops “marching up” and one gathers for inference that the French are “all set” for immediate action if necessary. Personally, I think that that it would be a very good thing for these Germans if the Allies were to blow up a few of their towns. But of course they won’t because it will not be necessary. As soon as they see we are all set and eager they will cease their pig headed haggling over the armistice terms and peace proposals. If we do have to go to war again it will be to the complete destruction of Germany in a very short while.

Allan "Happy" Ahlers and Grant Willard at Verdun, 1917

You ask if Allan Ahlers [1894-1962] is still with us. Yes, old Hap is very much here and is a very lively member indeed. Full of “pep” and fund and good common sense. Being the only two representatives from Minnesota in our outfit we are together a great deal of the time. He is sitting here beside me as I write, reading an old New York Times. He begs me to convey to you the impression that he is quite well and very anxious to get home. There must be a mistake about his family not hearing from him for so long. I’m quite sure he writes regularly. Hap did excellent work at the front and I think it would be a great shame if he does not receive a citation of some sort. Citations have been awarded for far less.

You speak of Herbert Wilcox’s not having civilian clothes and asking about mine. Have recently written Dot telling her she may expect me in a barrel for when in Paris the other day I looked up my trunk and found it swarming with moths and everything in the trunk completely ruined. They must have been hungry moths to have eaten such clothes as I had stored in my trunk.

The Literary Digests have come intermittently. It doesn’t seem as though I have received them all but maybe I have. There was a Jan. 18 issue waiting for me when I returned from permission. I like the paper very much indeed. Their articles cover a large field and strike me as being very broad-minded and fair. “Letters from the Front” are often very funny. It’s interesting what some fellows have the nerve to write home. I wonder how much you people believe in some of these letters home.

I’m sorry to have kept Dad waiting so long on his proposition. But when his first letter came we were in the thick of it in the Argonne and it was awfully hard to plan for the future. It’s hard now but I can pain some beautiful pictures of the future I would like. And I have painted them. The more I think of Dad’s proposition the better I like it. If there aren’t too many pro-Germans out there to deal with I’m sure I would like the work and am sure I can make Dot happy.

Listen – our service paper has just come out to the section and 647 is not included in the list of those sections who will be the first to leave Europe for America. Why, I can’t say. They claim they are sending the sections back according to length of time they have served over here. 75% of our personnel was over here before America declared war but we do not appear on the list. The Allentown men seem to be getting the preference. If this order is followed out according to plans we will not be home before July – in the last outfit to leave this side. Even so I would gain nothing by getting discharged over here, were such a thing possible, because it is a long job getting discharge papers through, passports and transportation. I have decided to stick with the section and get my discharge over there when the time comes. All applications for discharge over here are being turned down anyway except for those going to the Red Cross or those who live over here or can show business connections to keep them over here.

With a great deal of love,

Grant.

With a heart full of love

2019-02-11T08:00:00.000-05:00

Grant Willard expressed his feelings and observations with such eloquence and maturity that it's easy to forget that he was only in his mid-20s when writing them. He was a 20-something with all the needs, desires, passions and energy characteristic of that age. That included the need to blow off steam and have fun.

In these two letters home, Grant describes his leave in the south of France with some comrades. It was his third "permission" spent on the French Riviera since the fall of 1917. What better place to have some fun? Warm sunshine and beaches. So taken with the Côte d'Azur was he that he suggests his parents should travel to France after the war.

Convois Autos.,

S.S.U. 647,

Par B.C.M.

France

Menton, France

February 5, 1919

Dear little Mother:-

Am on another permission on the Mediterranean, this time in Menton near the Italian border. The weather is glorious and we are having a pretty good time – though not as good as in the old volunteer days.

Our trip down from Germany was most trying. The weather was cold and disagreeable and the crowds between Mainz and Paris were terrific. From Strasbourg to Paris (17 hours) we stood every minute of the way. I slept to the floor of the passage way once during the night but there was quite a crowd of Alpine Chasseurs on board and they mistook me for the Alps. There was nothing to do but to stand. We spent one night in Paris taking the [Train] Rapid for Menton on the following evening. The Rapid is a first class train intended only for officers and civilians but our knowing a few ropes helped us get aboard without difficulty. We spent a comfortable night in a warm compartment but at Marseilles we were caught by American MPs and thrown off the train. The next a.m. at 4 o’clock we were put onto a 3rd class train and reached Menton about noon of the 31st of January. The government furnishes us with very nice hotels down here and now that we are here we are very comfortable. For the first two days we did nothing but sleep. Since then we have been to the border, Monte Carlo and Nice as usual. We were in Nice yesterday and had an excellent time. Many nice people whom we met down here a year and a half ago are still down here and they remembered us in spite of the change of uniform. We danced and played around the Riviera in general and were well received in spite of our uniforms.

Now we are resting and trying to nerve up to the return trip

(Interruption – dinner call)

I am now in the writing room of the YMCA – they have grabbed the best buildings all along the Riviera (Cannes, Nice, Monte Carlo and Menton) and are doing everything possible for the American soldier. The YMCA here in Menton was the old Gambling Casino. It is lavish in decorations, theaters, dancing floors, pool and billiard rooms, etc. I am writing you from one of the old roulette rooms which is now being used for a reading and writing room.

I inquired around in Marseilles for Bill [Grant's future brother-in-law, William R. Everett (1891-1943)], but couldn’t seem to get on his trail. Where is he? I haven’t heard from him since the Armistice. Am under the impression he must be on his way back or is he going to be held for reconstruction work? I hope not for Marion’s sake. Though I tell you frankly that if there wasn’t so much drawing me back home I think I should look around for a good army job to keep me over here a year or so longer. I haven’t seen half enough of this country yet. While in Nice the other day we met people from Roumania, Constantinople, St. Petersburg and a retired American admiral (Admiral Day) who had traveled all over. When we were down here before we met a family from Florence, Italy. Just listening to these people talk has made me want to travel more. They know so much more than we Americans who stay in America all our lives.

Willard home in Mankato

But I’m not going to stay over here this trip. I’m going to aim toward another visit sometime later on. I wish you would make Dad bring you over here, Mother. Why have you never come? It hasn’t been beyond Dad’s power financially certainly because it isn’t an expensive place to spend a summer. Nowhere near as expensive as in some American summer resort. Tourists are quite apt to be asked exorbitant prices but one need not pay exorbitant prices. I think I could conduct a very cheap party over the most interesting parts of France and we could have load of fun. You and Dad would grow 20 years younger if you would make the trip. Now it is dinner time and I must quit.

No more rumors about coming home except that it might be most any day, now. Hope to stop over in Paris on our way back to Germany.

Heaps of love,

Grant.

* * *

Convois Autos.,

S.S.U. 647,

Par B.C.M.

France

Paris – 2/11/19/

Dear Family:-

On our way back from permission. I wrote you last from Menton on the Mediterranean. Hope that letter reaches you O.K. because it contains a report of the best part of our leave. It hasn’t been very satisfactory because traveling conditions have been so poor. From Menton we took a 3rd class permissionaires' train to Dijon. From Marseilles on it grew rapidly colder. The train was now heated. The cold combined with the hard wooden benches of the 3rd class car made sleeping and comfort impossible. We were 20 hours on this train. At Dijon we had to wait 10 hours for our Paris train. There was not a room in the town to be had so we spent our time in the Red Cross canteen drinking hot coffee and trying to be comfortable. Our Paris train pulled in at 3 a.m. jammed to the doors with passengers. We forced our way aboard and stood up for the next 6 hours. Fortunately our train was a rapid so we reached Paris about on schedule. But you can imagine that we were pretty well played out and resolved never to take another permission. After some debating and argument we were allowed to stay in Paris for two days to get rested up for the last leg of our journey. Paris is crowded and rooms are scarce. Through the kindness of Mr. [Henry] Sleeper of the American Field Service we were able to find beds and have been very comfortable here. We went to bed at noon of the 9th and never stirred until the noon of the 10th. I’ll take 2 months at the front in preference to another permission. Have been too tired to see about getting my baggage over to the Am Express Co. Our headquarters promises that time will be given all old sections later in which to straighten up all baggage questions. We were told that our section will be called in within a month and be sent back to the States. However, General Foch’s recent report to the war council may have some effect on our demobilization. I should be very much surprised if it didn’t. Germany is not whipped. Additional force is necessary. This does not necessarily mean more fighting, in my estimation, but armies and supplies are going to be essential.

So you see our job over here is not yet completed and until it is we shall continue to plug away doing our menial share and trying to keep happy.

With a heart full of love,

Grant.

Some of us are putting on flesh (I’m gaining daily) and have never felt better, physically, in our lives.

2019-01-24T08:00:00.000-05:00

As my readers know, Grant's father, William D. Willard (1867-1952), was cashier of the First National Bank of Mankato, Minnesota, and had proposed that his eldest son come work as his assistant after his return from war. While Grant writes enthusiastically about the possibility in this letter, we also know it never came to pass. He tells his father that he's written to his former employer informing him of the paternal job offer.

Grant also goes on emphatically about his love of Dorothy Houghton and his desire to get married. One can sense from the way he writes about Dot that his family was not entirely enthusiastic about his choice of wife. This attitude would affect their married life in Mankato.

Convois Autos.,
S.S.U. 647,
Par B.C.M.
France

January 24, 1919

Dear Dad:-

Your very nice, long letter of Dec. 24 reached me on the 18th of this month. I was very glad to get it indeed though sorry to hear that you have been laid up with the “flu.” I trust that you are well again by now and that the miserable stuff has left no ill effects.

(At this point Snader came in looking for an argument and he found one in here. The argument started out on the moral effect of German air raids and long distance shelling in France as compared with allied air raids in Germany. At 11 o’clock last evening the argument concluded having been switched to the Russian problem of today. So it is now the morning of January 25th – Saturday, I think.)

But to business! You have asked me two questions: (1) “How do you feel, are we going to be called upon for large quantities of steel, etc. for European reconstruction?” and (2) in regard to our future plans when your little tin solider comes trailing home. You must have my reply to the second proposition by now. However, I shall reply again in case the other never arrived.

I should be more than glad to return to Mankato and act as your assistant. Two years of barbarians has not decreased my steam pressure, in fact I think it has added to it if anything. You say it is steam you need. I should like to try mine out under your guidance. Then, too, I’ve got to get married. I’m so sure as I ever have been of anything that Dot is my mate. The past two years have been sufficient test. And she really is a wonder, Dad. If you have never appreciated how extremely lucky your son has been in a good many things he’s undertaken I’m sure your appreciation will dawn when you know my Dot better. There are times when it all seems almost too good to be true and the time hangs very heavy on my hands waiting for a chance to get back into civilization again. Your offer is just the thing I have been looking and hoping for. You see I’m pretty proud of your life and work and I should like to do what ever I can to help out and make as much out of my life as you have yours. Speaking of reconstruction, it is going to be necessary for me to do a little reconstructing myself before I get away from the present ways of thinking, speaking and acting but I’m sure that, with a little patience on your part, a good many of the army crudities can be entirely wiped out and a good many merits, started over here, further developed. At any rate, I’m very desirous of making the attempt.

I have written Mr. Wells [of the Wells-Dickey Trust Company in Minneapolis] to the effect that I couldn’t see much of a future in his office; that I didn’t care to be a bond salesman all my life; that it was too much to expect that I should be put into any other department with as little experience as I have had; that asking for a salary large enough for two of us living in Minneapolis on what little value I could be to the company would again be asking too much; that it is quite essential that I marry; that my father had made me a very attractive proposition which seemed to fill the bill to better advantage for all concerned. I haven’t yet received Mr. Wells’ reply, though it is about due most any day now.

Now as to the steel question – I can give you my ideas in a very few words. There is going to be more modern construction in Europe as soon as things have settled down a bit than ever before. By modern construction I mean railroads and steel framed buildings in particular. All of this development is going to call for steel. The pressure of war needs has created a much larger knowledge of industry on the whole. This means increased production, doesn’t it, when labor conditions become more stable? But before production can be increased machinery must be constructed on a larger scale than ever before. This calls for steel.

In France, I should say that there is a decided sentiment and activity under way for increased industrialism on, what we would call, a modern scale. France has been a bit backward in this regard, comparing what we have seen of France with what we have seen of Germany. In this new movement in France there is going to be a big demand for steel even outside of the devastated lands. This war has done a great deal for France. As you know that the wage-workers in France are in much better condition financially now than they ever were before? Why? Because we American soldiers together with the English soldiers have been responsible for putting a large sum of money into circulation. France has got her eyes open. But she is in a very embarrassing situation as a nation financially. The capital of France together with her credit will undoubtedly have to be spent in rehabilitating devastated regions.

Germany may get her steel for reconstruction and development from Austria and Hungary as usual. However, I know nothing of the amounts of iron ore in these countries and the prices of mining and shipping same as compared to ours. But Germany wouldn’t concern us much because she will be last on our list. If our output of steel exceeds our demands plus the demands of the allied and neutral countries then perhaps we can accept a bit of German credit.

England’s demand for reconstruction steel I should think would not exceed her war time demand.

Italy comes out of the war stronger than ever was before. War needs have increased her productive capacity. Italy like France has become more modernized by the war. This, I should think, would mean a demand for steel greater than the supply available from sources cheaper than from the U.S.

Then there is all of Russia! What’s going to become of Russia anyway? Will her eyes ever be opened so that they are not crossed? I am glad to see Russia represented in the Peace Congress and I hope it means that the allies are going to support one man in Russia during the reconstruction period any way. If Russia once get settled I see no reason why the demand for steel would not exceed the available domestic production at a less price than we could offer.

This covers the larger European countries. My conclusion, as you see, would be that there will be a large market for American made steel for the reconstruction of Europe. This conclusion, however, is base on a lack of knowledge of the amount and prices and grades of steel production in Europe. I really only know that the demands for steel will be great over here. Anybody knows that – so you see I’ve not given you a bit of information.

Ambulances in Mainz

We are still in Mainz. The last two weeks have indeed been easy ones. During this period we have made but one trip of any size and that was a second convoy up to the prison camp at Giesson. In addition we have two cars a day on call here in Mainz to answer what few requests there may be in this vicinity. Being attached to the army headquarters this way gives us the cream in the ambulance line and leaves the dregs for those sections attached to army corps and divisions. But the easy life with little work is beginning to tell on us. The “esprit de corps” has suffered a bit. However, many rumors of an early demobilization are refreshing and keep us all in pretty good spirits. Some of us are putting on flesh (I’m gaining daily) and have never felt better, physically, in our lives.

Hap [Ahlers] is bigger and stronger than ever. Johnny Taylor is no longer a boy of 17 but a grown up man of 19 years with big ideas and a great mind. Fraser’s egotism of two years ago has developed into the finest kind of fellowship and good fun; etc. down the line. We have all profited something. However, these are not arguments in favor of war but in spite of war.

There are rumors that we will be on our way home in a month but also there are so many rumors to the contrary that we pay no more attention to them whatever. I think our chances of being demobilized over here are very slim so that my trunk and other excess baggage will either have to be shipped home by the American Express Co. which is very expensive or I shall have to store it somewhere for further instructions. I hope to be able to get into Paris within the next month to get these things straightened out. I have several souvenirs which I don’t care to lose. But, Dad, I’m not bringing home an arsenal nor a curio-shop (un magasin d’antiquites). Mine are few but full of significance – for myself anyway. Some of the boys are lugging 500 lbs of souvenirs around with them. Wait until we have our cars take away from us and are made to carry only army issue on our backs!!!! That time is drawing nigh.

Much love to you all,

Grant.

Esprit de corps getting lax...

2019-01-22T08:00:00.000-05:00

Near the German city of Giessen was one of the most imfamous p.o.w. camps of the First World War. Denutrition, punishments and psychological mobbing were rampant. It was a precursor to major concentration camps of the mid-20th century and beyond. Grant and his comrades evacuated prisoners from Giessen several times.

Monday, January 20, 1919:

Left this A.M. at 6:30 for Giessen--#1,2,6,7,8,9,10,11,13,16,18, staff car and camionette. The day was dark and cold. Hap got almost as far as Frankfurt and had to return with carburetor trouble. The remainder of the trip passed off without accident.

Giessen POW Camp

A few kilometers out of Butzback, [Clifford O.] Soles & I left the convoy for Wetzlar. We arrived at our destination at about 11:30 A.M. and sat down to an excellent dinner with a French 2nd Lieutenant now in charge of the cemetery at the Wetzlar prison. We were supposed to bring this doctor back with us together with his infirmière and one couché. The Lieutenant spoke English--he was very nice to us. Since the armistice was signed they have been having a pretty easy time at Wetzlar. This Lieutenant had taken charge of the cemetery & camp sanitary conditions. He had been prisoner since last July taken on the Champagne. He had come to Wetzlar in October and had found things in a terrible condition. The graves of those prisoners who had died were not marked nor nicely arranged. No car had been taken of the place whatever. There were a number of Russian prisoners in the camp and the doctor said they were the worst, most slovenly and unsanitary people he had ever seen or heard of.

We left Wetzlar about 1:30 P.M. without the doctor, without the infirmière and without the couché. The doctor wouldn’t leave until he had finished his work, namely that of locating & labeling the graves of the dead. His infirmière wouldn’t leave without him and the couché has already been evacuated so Solesy and I returned to Mainz with no more of a load than we had running up. Out of Frankfurt we ran on to LaFleur out of gas so I took his patents aboard. McCrackin & Fraser took gas out to Al after we arrived. We pulled into camp about 6 P.M. tired & cold. Had one blow out just out of Wetzlar.

Wednesday, January 22:

The Lieutenant called us together today and made us a speech about the “esprit de corps” of this section. It seems that we are getting lax within the section & unless we improve we will have to drill, rise and go to bed at the signal of the bugle. I have since learned that the talk was intended especially for the cooks who have been getting a bit bossy of late, but I think the talk passed right over their heads. Woodie is obstinate and contrary. Afterward I had a talk with the Lieut. regarding my situation as a sergeant. He called me a quitter because I didn’t throw McCrackin out when he butted into my work and wait for orders from the Lieutenant before I withdrew. I explained the situation as I had seen it. He understood and was very nice about it. He would like to see me back where I was before McCrackin came, but didn’t want to put me there himself under the conditions. So I’m to wait awhile for further developments before I receive instructions. What this mean, I don’t know. Hope he isn’t going to get rid of Mac. I impressed it upon his mind that I was making no claims of reinstatement whatsoever--that I am absolutely contented to remain a private in this section.

[The French] are quite apt to play us, Americans, for suckers.

2019-01-19T08:00:00.000-05:00

Life in Germany for SSU 647 was a far cry from that they'd been living in wartime France. They spent their days in cafes, reading, exploring the country and generally relaxing with an occasional demand to perform their military/sanitary role.

Sunday, January 12, 1919:

Fratz, Johnny, Dirk and I went rabbit hunting with our “gatts” this morning. Finding the rabbits rather difficult to hit, in spite of their elephantine size, we spent our ammunition on targets. Fratz, Dirk and I played billiards at the Kurfürst this p.m.

Monday, January 13:

Rainy and miserable outside. Stayed in and read the History of Europe Since 1815 most all day. George, our waiter at the Cafe Paris here in Mainz told us that the cold and wet days are about over. We are soon to have spring. Should like to be here on the Rhine in the spring.

Tuesday, January 14:

The day of the big Kegel [bowling] tournament. Walked off into the country with Johnny, Fratz and Dirk this a.m. Played billiards this afternoon. Horn and Titchner went to Coblenz today for more food.

At 7 o’clock a few of the mob assembled at a very antique and miserable bowling alley in town. We paired off and had a most thrilling and exciting tournament. The alley is very funny. Made of concrete surface, longer and broader than ours and only 9 pins are used. It is next to impossible to make a strike and spares are very rare. Results are as follows.

Grant's original "kegel" chart from the diary.

We had a great deal of fun out of it. Too bad Horn couldn’t have been there. It was his idea originally.

Horn came in about 10 p.m. very tired and disgusted in general. The Commissary in Coblenz refused to sell or issue him a thing because we don’t belong to the 3rd Army American. The YMCA gave him a few little things. The Lieutenant will go with him again in a day or so to see if his bars help any.

Wednesday, January 15:

GRW, Johnny Taylor and Stuart Fraser

Rainy and miserable out.
Took a hike with Johnny, Fratz and Dirk winding up at the Kurfürst where we played billiards. Was made very happy today by the arrival of mail--one letter from Dot, one from mother (Dec. 16 and Dec. 10 respectively), one from the office, one from Tish Libby and a wedding announcement from Adele Pattison.

Friday, January 17:

The Lieutenant gave a birthday party last evening in the front rooms here in the barracks. He is 27 years old. He surely looks and acts older.
Harris and Woodell acted as toastmasters calling on everybody present to tell why he came to France. Bodfish presented the Lieutenant with the cigarette case which the section bought for him. The case is a dandy, but the presentation speech was better. The Lieutenant made a speech in return in which he called himself “Old Man Smith” and asked the session to proceed as if we were all civilians again, forgetting rank and bars -- man to man. He called on us for an expression of our first impressions when he joined us in Lagny. The testimonies were funny. Al LaFleur was particularly good because the Anderson régime had been exceptionally hard on him. Mechanic Anderson got well oiled up and made a wonderful speech on insignias for Lieut. Kendrick’s benefit. (Kendrick was with us.) “Ergo,” said Andie, “As Shakespeare says in Hamlet, section 649’s insignia is an anachronism.” Champagne, candies, cookies and cheese sandwiches were the order of the evening.

Sunday, January 19:

Rather an interesting day. About 11:30 this morning a French lieutenant appeared at our bureau and verbally gave us an order to vacate our happy home to make room for French troops about to arrive. Smithy gave him an argument. Then Burt came to Smithy’s assistance and they both put up a fight.

Arthur C. Burt

“My orders come from the billeting mayor of Mainz. Are you going to obey them and move within the next half hour or not?” was asked Burt after the argument had provoked him.
“We receive our orders from our lieutenant.” replied Burt.
“Where is your lieutenant?”
“In his room in Mainz.”
“Where is the sergeant in charge?”
“Gone to church.”
“Then you won’t move according to order?”
“No sir.”

In the meantime the (our) lieutenant had been sent for. Before he arrived, however, a telephone message came from the billeting mayor (a French colonel) saying that if we were not out within half an hour we would be put under arrest and a squad detailed to move our possessions for us. Our lieutenant arrived and stirred up more words. He had it hot and heavy with the billeting lieutenant and the infantry commandant. There was no written order and it hadn’t come to us through the D.S.A., the proper channel. Furthermore the D.S.A. had told us that we would not be moved from our comfortable quarters. So our lieutenant stuck it out, refusing to move, but went right down and reported the whole rumpus to the D.S.A.

In the meantime, at the expiration of half an hour, armed, mounted guards arrived with orders to keep us in our barracks--we were under arrest. Captain Bacheleur arrived from the D.S.A. and the argument started afresh. The D.S.A. supported us. The conclusion was that no order had been issued for our vacating. That had such an order been issued the D.S.A could have canceled it because it hadn’t come through the proper sources. We were merely requested to move by an infantry commandant who had tried to bulldoze us into believing it was an order. The billeting mayor had backed him up. So as a request on the part of the infantry commandant in order that he may not be compelled to split a company the matter rested between himself and our lieutenant. The logic of the situation was evident. 35 Americans vacated to barracks just as good as those formerly occupied in order to make way for 150 French infantrymen to occupy the same space in a building large enough to hold their whole regiment. We are a little more crowded in our new barracks but we will be quite comfortable once we are straightened around. At any rate we had the satisfaction of “calling” an awful big bluff on the part of a French commandant and a billeting mayor. They are quite apt to play us, Americans, for suckers. And I don’t think we will be asked to move again. We have a larger room than before with more light and plenty of heat. Dirk, Johnny, Fratz and I are together again and have taken Hap in with us making five altogether. Some of the boys, however, are a bit sore because their accommodations are not quite as nice as before, but I’m sure all will be smoothed over in a day or two.

Tomorrow a.m. at 6:30 nine cars with the staff car and camionette leave for Giessen and and Swain and myself for Wetzlar for prisoners of war.

We shall come dancing back to dear little Mankato – the happiest pair that ever went through a hell of torture together, unscathed and unscarred.

2019-01-10T08:00:00.000-05:00

As 1919 began, the Great War had been over for nearly two months and millions of young men had perished. Though there was peace among the great powers, it was not a peaceful year. There was civil, economic and labor unrest in Europe and elsewhere. Strikes were commonplace. Communist activists fought against reactionary forces in various countries.

In the U.S., the several states ratified the 18th Amendment to the Constitution, establishing the prohibition of alcoholic beverages. It took effect one year later.

The League of Nations was founded, and, at Versailles, the treaty was signed that formally ended the First World War. Afterwards U.S. President Woodrow Wilson embarked on a cross-country speaking tour to garner support for the treaty and put pressure on the U.S. Senate to ratify it, and wound up suffering a stroke in October that would leave him disabled for the rest of his life. In the end the U.S. never ratified the treaty and negotiated a separate peace with the Central Powers.

As for Grant Willard, 1919 was a momentous year. After being discharged honorably from the U.S. Army in the spring, he returned home to pick up the pieces of his life and start a new one. In September that year he and Dorothy Houghton were married in her hometown of Amber, Pennsylvania, and set up house in Minnesota.

January 10, 1919

Dearest Mother:-

A little mail came yesterday – the first I have received, outside of one letter from Dot, in a couple of weeks. I drew two letters – one from Marion and one from Zella Devitt. There must be a pile of mail for us somewhere. I thank Marion very, very much for the draft she enclosed. It has gone into Morgan Harjes & Cie. with the rest of my funds to be saved for a rainy day, which I hope is not far off.

Day before yesterday the Chief of our Service, Col. Jones, was in Mainz and told our Lieutenant that he could assure his boys that they would be on their way to the States within 3 months. And that those who wanted to stay over here would be given that opportunity. The latter don’t apply to me in the slightest degree. The former, on the other hand, hits me right between the eyes. Three months isn’t so very much longer. Col. Jones’ statement is the most authentic report we have had and I certainly hope he’s right. I had already sent a letter into headquarters requesting a furlough to the States for the purpose of continuing my former occupation. If it had been granted I figured that I would have been sent back to Allentown and be mustered out there. However, the Colonel said that such requests would not be granted, that he would O.K. them readily enough but that General Pershing was refusing all such requests. So I shall probably have to come back a soldier and will have had no opportunity of touring around over here.

There doesn’t seem to be much argument in favor of my refusing Dad’s perfectly good offer to join him in business when I come back. I think if Dot were convinced that I’m not to be pulled along through life on the coat-tails of my Dad that she would be quite as keen on the proposition as I am. I’m pretty sure she can be convinced. Your letters to her have helped. I’m trying to do my level best from this side. So I have formulated the following plan: immediately upon demobilization to make a direct hit on Ambler, there to get acquainted all over again and to make a regular lover’s fool of myself. It may be a period of three weeks or so before they throw me out during which period Dot and I will, undoubtedly have been very busy. Then I’ll come home, work like a trooper, pick out a shack or pitch a tent somewhere in Mankato or vicinity for Dot and myself. Then when everything is running smoothly and when agreeable to all concerned I shall pile out to Ambler and then to the time of Mendelssohn’s wedding march we shall come dancing back to dear little Mankato – the happiest pair that ever went through a hell of torture together, unscathed and unscarred. Was?

On Tuesday, January 7, Horn Snader and I went in my car to Coblenz for food supplies. The day broke clear and cold, the road is as smooth as a floor and moreover my car was running like a charm. What more could be desired for a 90 km drive down the banks of the historical Rhine? It was indeed a memorable trip, this beauty of which I couldn’t begin to describe to you because my pleonastic abilities have never been properly developed. Ask Carolyn and Alice – they can undoubtedly much more about the entrancing qualities of the Rhine than I can. I am enclosing a few pictures of some of the things we saw. When we passed the Loreley I looked so hard for the beautiful sirens that we mounted a rock pile in our “flivver” and had to be pushed off. Horn said that the only sailors he could imagine as being lured by the sirens we saw would be a crew of drunken Longshoremen.

Coblenz is a maze of Americans. I never saw so much elaborateness in my life. Every unit seems to have an insignia of some sort worn somewhere on every article of clothing. The M.P.’s which decorate every corner, highway and by way are all dressed up like a parade and address one as though he were the dust on his shoes. A poor, inexperienced ambulance driver has a tough time in Colbenz. (I was addressed several times.) Due to army red-tape and penurious YMCA men it took us eight hours of constant prevarication and running from headquarters to headquarters to get one fair sized load of provisions for our outfit – enough to last a week. We came home by our distemper. Why should we have to pay exorbitant prices for foods, clothing, reading and writing material already paid for by you people in the States and intended to be distributed among the American soldiers on this side? The Red Cross gave us our share of everything they had in stock – jam, milk, cigarettes, chewing gum, clothing and reading material. By “our share” I mean the usual army rations for 50 men to cover a definite period of time. What did we get out of the tremendous store house of the YMCA? Half a dozen packages of biscuits, one package of this writing paper and some magazines. We got all of this only after arguing with the main office for an hour and when we finally got it they wanted 30 some odd marks for the lay-out. Can you beat that? Horn said, “I didn’t come 90 km to buy goods which my family has already more than paid for,” and picked up the box and we walked out leaving the wide-eyed and very much shocked little triangle man scratching his bald-pate and pondering over Horn’s harsh words.

I’m afraid you would accuse me of being very unpatriotic if I should go on enumerating our Coblenz experiences. The Americans are handling the whole situation in their territory so differently from the French and English in theirs that it’s hard to understand it all. Judging from articles in US periodicals I should say that you people have a far greater understanding of the underlying principles of this war and the proper solutions for its resultant problems than has the American Army of occupation. I like the trend of thought and reason in the Literary Digest articles under the title of “Feeding German.” I wish the French knew more of how you people at home feel. As it is, they are becoming quite vexed with us. I don’t know how the English feel. We have fallen once for German poisonous propaganda. Wasn’t it sufficient to teach us our lesson or are we going to fall again? If we can’t agree with the French and English on the solution of Germany’s problem then it is sure a sign we haven’t learned our lesson and high time for us to pull out of Europe and leave it to those who know.

There has been a call for cars at the hospital to take sick prisoners down to the train so I must leave you now.

Am feeling fine.

Much love,
Grant.

The finals days of a bloody, calamitous year.

2018-12-30T08:00:00.000-05:00

Monday, December 30, 1918:

Things have happened pretty lively around here lately. On Wednesday (Dec. 18), Hap and I took two cars down to Speyer to pick up Signor, Kerr, Kirkpatrick and Rority who were on their way back from Paris where they had received D.S.C. for work in the Argonne. It is about a 90 km run down there along the Rhine practically all the way. A beautiful ride though we did make it in the rain. The big places on the way down are Oppenheim, Worms, Frankenthal, and Ludwigshafen. We wasted no time going down in hopes of having plenty of time on our return with the other four boys to take in the points of interest. We arrived in Speyer at 10:30 A.M. and found the boys right away.

Speyer, 2010

Speyer is quite an interesting little city with somewhat of a past. In earliest historic times, we are told, Speyer was the capital of the Teutonic tribe Nemeter. Then it became the Roman municipal town of Upper Germania and later from the 6th Century under the tribe of the Franks, as the capital of the surrounding district Charlemagne established in Speyer an Imperial Palatinate for temporary residence. Imperial diets were held in the reign of his son Lewis the Pious, and altogether no less than 49 were held between the years 838 and 1570. In 1030, the Emperor Konrad II, the Salic, founded the Cathedral and designated it as the resting place for himself and his successors. Thus Speyer became the burial town of the German Emperors. In 1111 Speyer was granted imperial freedom, but for nearly 200 years there were long and hard fights with the episcopal power until she was recognized as a direct or free Imperial City, and recognized by the bishops, who from the year 610 had resided within her walls. Until 1689 Speyer was the seat of the Reichskammergericht, the Supreme court in the German Empire. In 1689 the city was burned to the ground as ordered by King Louis XIV of France. It was rebuilt in time and then in the Peace of Lunéville, 1801, Speyer, as well as the whole German province on the left bank of the Rhine, was ceded to France. But after the complete overthrow of Napoleon in 1815, the left bank of the Rhine was recaptured once more from the French, and in 1816 the town of Speyer became a stable part of the newly formed Rhine Province belonging to the Kingdom of Bavaria, then the chief town of the Palatinate, and, somewhat later, once more an episcopal see.

Speyer Cathedral, 2010

The Imperial Cathedral was only half destroyed by the fire of 1689. It was patched up to look like the original in the 19th Century by King Lewis the First of Bavaria. The old tower-gateway is the only other structure which lived through the fire.

We saw all the places, but didn’t stop to go through the cathedral. We six ate at the Hotel Wittelsbach where we were served an excellent 4 mark dinner by an English speaking waiter.

Worms Cathedral, 2010

By 1:30 P.M. we were on our way back. In Ludiwigshafen we had a blowout. This threw us off schedule, but we did stop in Worms long enough to go through the Cathedral in which Martin Luther was tried and sentenced to prison. It was a dark and gloomy day so the cathedral didn’t show up very well. It is a big clumsy piece of Romanesque architecture. Had another blowout just out of Worms. It was dark before we had the blooming thing fixed. Near Oppenheim we changed another tire getting into camp about 6 P.M., and hour behind schedule. ‘Twas a nice trip, but I should like to do it over again in nice weather.

December 21 - Johnny, Frase and I went over to Weisbaden and saw the town. It’s a nicer place than Mainz -- a bath center, quite cosmopolitan, very clean and modern. It being a Saturday afternoon we couldn’t get into the stores, but the windows looked very attractive. Hope to go over again later.

December 25 - Ten cars went to Darmstadt this morning to get wounded prisoners and return to Mainz. Darmstadt is in the neutral zone so there are no troops there. The prisoners were mostly English and have some mighty hard stories to tell. In Darmstadt after the revolt of the German army and the signing of the armistice they report a very different attitude on the part of the Germans. However, they are firm and set on revenge. Most of them looked pretty well. The day was cold, rainy with flurries of snow and some snow already on the ground.

We returned to Mainz about 4:30 and hurried into our Xmas clothes. Our dinner was staged at a downtown Cafe and consisted of German barley soup with American bread and German jam for butter; goose or chicken (I had both) with American apple sauce, German potatoes, Brussels sprouts and German cabbage salad; American rice made up into a German cold pudding with German preserved fruits in it; coffee (American) and German cake made with our white flour. We drank French cognac and German champagne. The dinner was excellent, thanks to Sgt. Snader, but we had to break up at 8 P.M. because of the French military laws forbidding German civilian shops to be open after 8 P.M. All civilians must be off the streets at this time.

Limburg, 2010

December 28 - My birthday [Grant's 26th], but I forgot about it until the day was spent. We left Mainz at 8 A.M. for Limburg directly north of here about 80 km and beyond the neutral zone. The day was miserable, cold and wet. The other side of Wiesbaden we struck snow in the hills and chains were necessary. We arrived in Limburg about noon and found we were again to evacuate English prisoners. One of the men I carried had been over here a prisoner for four years and four months. They were the happiest lot I ever saw because they were going back home. Wow! but they had some gruesome tales to tell. In their prison camp we saw a graveyard where 60 Irish prisoners had been starved and then shot because they refused to answer Sir Roger Casement’s call and fight with Germany. We read the names on the crosses above each grave. There is no question but what they are Irish, O’Brien, O’Flanegan, etc. never were German names. It seemed queer to be out of the neutral zone where only German M.P.s guard the streets and conduct traffic.

We reached camp about 11 P.M., after having gotten lost twice, tired, cold and in bad humor. It was a hard trip.

December 29 - At 9 A.M. 20 cars started for Frankfurt on the Main. It was a better day than we have had on our last few convoys-- warm and once or twice the sun actually shone. Frankfurt is a very pretty place, again the other side of the neutral zone. Our load this time was strictly American. The boys had been assembled from various places in Germany by a Swiss major whom they said was very nice and had gone to much trouble in assembling them. Their stores vary somewhat from the others we had listened to in that they had received the best treatment Germany could afford everywhere they had been. We were somewhat astonished when we saw an American boy giving some Union Leader smoking tobacco to some to the German kids who surrounded us the minute we stopped before the hotel in which the boys were staying. When asked about it he remarked, "Oh well, these Germans aren’t so bad after all and they haven’t much tobacco over here." It made us boil all over. Hoodwinked, they were. The Germans had been playing to them and they had fallen for it.

I carried one lad from the 102nd Machine Gun Company who was taken at Seicheprey when we were with them up there. He and Harold Tucker were taken together and had been together up till about 2 weeks ago when in Darmstadt they were separated. Once again I just missed Tucker. He said “Tuck” was looking fine and had been treated like a king.

From Frankfurt the Swiss major led the convoy in a German staff car down through Darmstadt, Bensheim and Weinheim to Mannheim where we left the boys in the charge of a German Red Cross. From here another American section will carry the boys back or down probably to Strasbourg where they will be shipped by train.

Our trip from Darmstadt down to Mannheim was most interesting principally due to the fact that German troops are stationed in both Bensheim and Weinheim. We saw some wounded German soldiers for the first time since we have been on German soil which made a pretty sight for sore eyes. The troops in these towns were very young indeed and didn’t know what to make of our being there.

We left Mannheim at 6:30 arriving in Mainz about 9:15 P.M. -- a good run and excellent day.

Tuesday, December 31:

Slept late and worked on the car. No mail. Miserable weather. Johnny, Frase, Dirk and self went downtown for supper and the evening we spent in the Cafe Paris and playing billiards. Johnny & I beat Frase and Dirk. Very little celebrating in spite of its being New Year’s eve and the Cafes open until 12 P.M. A few French were pretty happy, but as far as we observed everything went along smoothly.

Last night it snowed – real, white snow.

2018-12-23T08:00:00.000-05:00

Convois Autos.,
S.S.U. 647,
Par B.C.M.,
France.

Mainz, Germany
December 23, 1918.

Dearest Family:-

Last night it snowed – real, white snow. But this morning it went in a hurry. One the whole, the weather has been very mild though disagreeable with almost constant rain for the last month. The snow was pretty while it lasted and we wished we could have a bit of it for Christmas. It is very different weather from what we were having a year ago at this time. We haven’t had time to wear over-coats this year so far. Maybe we are growing tougher. Listen to what my diary says for a year ago today: “Flat on my back with a cold, sore throat and indigestion as a result of our St. Nazaire trip last week.” Then on Jan. 13 I wrote: “Three weeks ago when I started to write in this book while in bed I was prevented by the cold. There was a good fire going in a stove at the foot of my bed, but it is impossible to heat the air at a greater radius than 3 ft. and then it passes out a hole in the roof.” This all took place at Sandricourt you will remember. We surely were a blue outfit in those days and there is little to wonder at. How different now! A room to myself practically, plenty of good furniture, a roaring fire making it necessary to keep the window open because of the surplus heat. We should be quite contented and tonight I am feeling quite pert and sassy. This morning’s mail delivery brought your good box of Xmas candies and the picture of Dot. It’s a very good thing that nothing but hard candies was included because the box had caved in on about six sides but there wasn’t a piece of candy missing. I hope you won’t be disappointed when I tell you that the box was immediately opened and promptly pounced upon by a goodly number of husky ruffians. In fact, at the present writing, there is not a piece of candy to be found anywhere in this room. But I’m sure you will be glad when you know how hard it has been for us to get good things to eat up here in Germany. One can buy certain foods from the Germans but not chocolate. One can get some eatables from French commissaries but not chocolate. Our own little cantine supply of chocolate has long since disappeared. There are no American commissaries near here. So you see your gift really did fill a need. The reason I opened it immediately is partly because the temptation was too great to resist and partly because I had profitted by past experience. From now on for several weeks these boxes will be arriving all containing eats. If they are all saved until Xmas everybody over eats and feels rotten for many days. Spread it out is what I say. As far as I know your box is the first to arrive in the section. Thank you ever and ever so much for the candies. They were delicious. This statement is endorsed by J.H. Taylor, Stewart H. Fraser, Allen H. Ahlers, D.J. Luykx, Robt. R. Bodfish, Samuel Wilder and several others who have visited our apartments from time to time throughout the day. All wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. My fat little queen of the Philadelphia queens has also drawn some very choice compliments through her picture which now adorns the wall over my four-poster.

And now I’m going to relate for your perusal a bit of an account of what we are experiencing and talking about in these days of uncertainty.

Day before yesterday Johnny Taylor, Fraser and I took a train to Weisbaden just across the Rhine from here. We had been told that Weisbaden was a very cosmopolitan city, much prettier and up-to-date than Mainz. And so we found it. Very snappy city indeed with many elaborate baths and attractive shops. People speaking very good English hailed us from all sides. Our waiter at the hotel in which we ate dinner greeted us with, “Good afternoon, Gentlemen. What can I do for you?” It rather startled us. Then a very nice lady came over and spoke to us in the hotel. “I hope you boys will excuse me for intruding but I can’t resist the temptation of speaking to you Americans.” This was her salutation. She hailed from San Francisco where she was born and had lived up to about 15 years ago when she took to traveling. She and an aged uncle were caught in Germany at the outbreak of the war. The excitement broke the old man’s health and she was compelled to stay in Weisbaden with him. Soon after America joined the allies he passed away leaving her alone in a hostile country. She was very interesting indeed and we pumped her hard for information in between her own pumps on us. She says that Germany is starving though we outsiders don’t see it. It is only the rich and the more fortunate ones in Germany who are able to acquire the food essentials of life. Some hotels are able to buy, direct from the farmer, their meat, eggs, potatoes, etc., but that it is all done underhanded. A proprietor who is caught buying food elsewhere than from the government is given three years in prison. A farmer who is caught selling his goods other than to the government loses everything he owns. To buy food from the government means to eat nothing but vegetables – no meats nor grease of any kind. (This is all her story, you understand.) The wealthier classes have been able to live fairly well through underhanded work as long as their money held out. But the poorer classes have suffered and are suffering terribly today from lack of food and clothing. She herself, had been very fortunate in being taken in by two German families and by pooling their resources had managed to scrape through. She pays 5 marks for a pound of butter (and very poor butter, she says), 20 marks for a small piece of real beefsteak, about 2 marks for every egg she buys. These are a few of the things mentioned which I remember.

This much of our talk was intensely interesting and we all liked her very much and marveled at what she had been through. She talks very little German, dislikes the people very much especially the women. She says they are a bigoted, selfish, unpatriotic race of square-heads. She served for two years with the German Red Cross to save her skin.

But the last part of our talk destroyed completely my first good impressions. I think that in her argument as to what ought to take place now that it is all over can be seen Germany’s last hope – a hope on which she is placing everything – President Wilson. Not that President Wilson isn’t a capable man to handle the situation but that this lady’s argument is typical of the line of talk with which every German is going to try to hood-wink the world now that she has been beaten. Briefly stated the argument was something like this: the common people, the majority, of Germany were deceived and misled into the war by the Jünkers class. The German working man, the merchant, the foreign trader, the banker, etc. are not to blame. Therefore, Germany did not start the war. It was the Jünker class grasping for world power – not the Kaiser but the Jünker class. The German people were led to follow them through deceit. It is all over now. Germany is determined to rid itself of this Jünker pest, the blame for the whole thing. The guiltless people have been bled of everything they own and robbed of their dear ones. They admit their defeat and tremendous suffering. “Now that it is all over feed us, trade with us, give us a chance to build up a misled and maltreated Germany.” This is their cry now. Don’t you see? They are playing for sympathy!! They want sympathy from the nations which they have done everything in their power to destroy. They want our trade. They want to send merchants to our shores to peddle their “made in Germany” goods. They want to send men who have proved themselves to be German Secret Service Agents first and merchants during their spare moments. How can they have the audacity to think for a minute that we are ever going to believe them again. Sympathize with them? No! Not for a minute – Jünker or peasant. Feed them? Never!! Not unless it is absolutely proven that they haven’t the power to live without aid. Trade with them? Allow them to immigrate and mix with us? NO!! A thousand times NO!!!! Not until they have proven that they have the brains to warrant our having anything to do with them. It may be possible for them to prove and it may not. In either case it is not up to us to give them the chance. They’ve got to prove themselves worthy first and earn a chance. Keep them on their own soil. Let them fight it out among themselves. Don’t let them spread their poison. Quarantine them, segregate them – anything to keep them away from healthy civilized people. In five or ten years time of wrangling among themselves the fittest may have survived and have been able to clean out the worst of the disease. If they claim immunity at the end of this period let them be officially examined and passed upon by a competent board of international doctors and if found to be reasonably sane and pure let the nations try them out. If at the end of this period any of them have the fact to think they are fit to mix with civilized people then in our time to give them a chance and not until then.

This, dear people, is why I’m afraid it is a mistake for America to play any important part in the Peace Conference. We are too kind-hearted and lenient. We are going to listen to the pleading of the German working people “who have been misled” and sympathize with them. Why? Because we haven’t been in the war long enough. Read your casualty list totals and ask yourself who should rightfully determine the testing of a nation such as Germany. America doesn’t know, it can’t know, it may never know. So let us block our ears to German pleadings and modestly withdraw in favor of those nations who are far better equipped to solve the problem than we are or ever will be.

Oh, I tell you, we have it out hot and heavy here practically every night. Some of the fellows who can talk a bit of the language are apt to go down town and listen to this German propaganda. I tell you, it’s poison. We oughtn’t to be allowed to speak to a German. It’s hard sometimes but it’s for the good of the whole. Even this American lady had been so poisoned that her reasoning was unbalanced. Good American and all that but she had listened to people whom she had first admitted to be “bigoted, selfish and unpatriotic.” Raus mit!

You may not agree with what I have said but if I can’t convince you when I return I feel confident that the course of events will bear me out.

Latest rumor from Paris – we will probably be mustered out in about 6 months’ time. Not before. Our chances of being dischanged on this side are very slim. France wants to get us out of here and I don’t blame her.

With a great deal of love,

Your son
Grant.

Grant the Isolationist

2018-12-20T09:59:00.003-05:00

Friday, December 20, 1918:

Ottweiler, 2010

We left Ottweiler for [Bad] Kreuznach on Friday, Dec. 13, just a week ago. Nothing of importance happened there. We continued to make the old lady’s Cafe our headquarters. We found a billiard table in the Kaiserhof and most our time was spent in playing billiards, cards and writing letters. Our mail truck found us there and has been able to follow us pretty well since.

Bad Kreuznach is a nice city. It’s one of the water and mud bath centers of Germany. It’s now being used for a French headquarters town and there was some discussion among the higher French officers when they found us in the town. It is an unwritten law in the French army that no foreign troops shall be stationed in a headquarter’s town. Our French captain was quite severely reprimanded by his colonel for ordering us into the town. We lived in barracks and were very happy for the three days we were there.

Woodrow Wilson (1856-1924)

We ran onto a Cafe in town run by a lady who had lived 22 years in England. She had four children while there and her husband was a loyal citizen of England though he had never taken out his naturalization papers. He laughed at the idea of war and postponed taking out his papers from day to day. War came. He was interned; their oldest son, 18 years of age, was conscripted into the English army and she was given the preference of internment with her remaining three children or a return to Germany. She took the latter. She holds no grudge against England, is very glad England won the war and is very anxious to return. She doesn’t like the French very well, however. She made the statement one night as we were sitting around our beers that she wished the Americans would come to Kreuznach instead of the French. A Frenchman was sitting at our table who could understand English well enough to get her meaning. It didn’t make much of a hit with them. It spread around like wild fire among the French. Then the Petit Parisien published an account of the American occupation of Coblenz [Koblenz] in which it was stated that the Americans, both officers and men, were saluting German officers and that German policemen were not saluting the Americans. If this is true it’s atrocious and very sad. At any rate it made the French wild. We had several very warm discussions in the Cafes after this. We passed out many a cigarette during these periods. Since then the French have left us pretty much to ourselves. They don’t want us up here and the fact that we are merely being endured & tolerated is very evident.

The Germans are placing heavy odds on Pres. Wilson & his peace policy. They rely on him to make things easier for them. If Pres. Wilson does not see the situation while he is over here and does not take the hint to get out and leave the spoils to Italy, France & England there is bound to be trouble. No American, not even Pres. Wilson, who hasn’t lived over here since 1870 can appreciate the situation. France & England know what is best for Germany and will see that she is properly dealt with. Let us Americans, who have played our part and reaped our benefits, modestly retire and merely applaud our allies. This is our part.

We left Kreuznach on Tuesday, Dec. 17, and are now most comfortably situated in a big caserne in Mainz on a hill overlooking the Rhine. The weather has been so miserable that we haven’t had much opportunity of getting out and around. We have the whole first floor of one of the buildings to ourselves. Our rooms are well equipped with electricity, furniture and stoves. There is plenty of coke in the cellar. There are two tiled wash rooms on this floor. Johnny, Fraser, Luykx and myself are living together in a room nicely calcimined and lace curtained. We have real beds to sleep on and altogether are very happy. We even have a dining room arranged like a cafeteria.

Ambulances parked in Mainz

An unfortunate state of affairs has taken place in the board of sergeants. McCrackin came back from the officers’ training school and announces his intention of refusing every commission offer which may come to him. He wants to stay with the section. This makes four sergeants, one paid & official and three acting. Too many -- and what is to be our status? Who is to be top? What are our duties to be? Snader would keep his job regardless of whether he was called “sarg.” or “General” so he is out of the discussion. Swain and I are not stuck on our jobs, and both would be glad to give up his respective tasks. Which one shall it be? It can’t very well be both because it really takes three to run the section. If I get out, that leaves Swain with McCrackin and the two don’t fit. If Jack gets out that leaves me with McCrackin and there’s sure to be a fight. McCrackin and I don’t agree at all. The gang is anxious to see us all stay because McCrackin is not very popular (he’s a pupil of Lt. Anderson) with them. The Lieutenant doesn’t like Mac and would like things to proceed as before, but he doesn’t know what to do with Mac. A queer situation and a rather embarrassing one.

I don’t ever want to see another uniform.

2018-12-16T10:32:00.001-05:00

Grant Willard's father, William D. Willard (1867-1952), went into business with his father in Mankato in the 1880s, first as manager of the Mankato Linseed Oil, and then vice president of the Mankato Knitting mills. Around 1901 he entered the banking business when he became cashier of the First National Bank. He remained as a cashier until 1924 when he was appointed vice president. He was vice president until 1940 and until his death was a director of the bank.

W.D. proposed that Grant take a position at the First National Bank after his return from duty. His eldest son seemed open to this idea, but for whatever reason it did not come to pass. Whether due to pressure from his future wife, Dorothy, or a desire to make his own mark on the world, or something else, Grant eventually turned down his dad's proposal to go into "the family business." He became a securities salesman, a profession that would prove to be problematic during the Great Depression.

Convois Autos.,
S.S.U. 647,
Par B.C.M.,
France.

Bad-Kreuznach, Germany,

December 16, 1918

Dearest Dad:-

Yours of November 22 with enclosures has been duly received. I will try to write you an answer to your proposition though I feel as helpless and foreign now in regard to such propositions as I did when you first mentioned the matter in a letter received several months ago. I don’t believe you can imagine just how far away from old ways of thinking and living I have been these past two years. It’s just like a man being suddenly awakened in the early morning and being rushed off to a foreign land away from home, friends – everything with which he was beginning to become familiar – and having to start all over again under entirely different circumstances, when he has finally waked and washed out his eyes.

I have read your letters and the enclosed clippings and have tried to understand them as I used to but this new life has so occupied every minute of my time that, frankly, I don’t believe the “doings” of significance on your side of the water have sunk very deeply nor have they left much of an impression on my mind. So don’t you see, Daddie, it’s awfully hard for me to make a decision, in these matters which is going to effect my whole future life as well as Dot’s? The same thing holds true from your point of view. You have changed, your business has changed, all America has changed – no doubt. In view of all these changes you don’t know that I am the you want any more than I know that I’m the man for the job. From what you told me in your letter and from what I already knew of your business I had rather come into your Bank and Trust Co. than anything else, I know of. I’m ready to leave this country tonight and start working with you tomorrow, but the government says “nichts.” The only thing I don’t like about the whole proposition is the coming in and coming up as your son. If I can’t do it on my own worth and value to the institution I had rather not do it at all. I suppose I shall have to be taken in as your son because I have not left sufficient record to make me eligible without you but will the rest of it be left to me? You understand, don’t you, Dad? I’m not casting you off. It’s not lack of appreciation for what you have done for me but rather the appreciation, itself. I don’t want to be pulled along. I’ve gone through almost two years of ambulance driving on this side and haven’t been towed yet. No more do I want to be towed through life in the future.

I like your proposition for several reasons. 1st, because I like the business and, from what I know now, would like to make it mine. 2nd, because I had rather be a big toad in a little pond than a small toad in a lake or an ocean. 3rd, because by staying with Wells-Dickey I can’t see a bigger future than you offer me. I like the Wells-Dickey firm very much indeed – I like their business and I like their personnel. However, I don’t like being a salesman nor a buyer (I would prefer the latter of the two) and I can’t see where else I would be led if I stayed with them unless it would be in further preparation for some such opportunity as you have already offered me.

There is another thing, too, which has bothered me somewhat and which I must tell you. Dot has been born and raised on the outskirts of a big city. She would prefer living in a bigger city than Mankato. She wants me to locate definitely in the east. But I’m willing to gamble on our being able to make her happy in Mankato. You probably ran up against the same proposition once yourself, didn’t you Dad? You won out and I think I can. I’m more than willing to make the attempt.

Is my answer to your proposition definite enough for the time being? I am writing Mr. Wells tonight telling him approximately what I have told you. Your two letters have made me feel better than I have felt in the last two years because they have meant that there is still a place for me back home and will be no matter how long we are held over here.

Your draft for 250 francs of Nov. 6 and of Nov. 22 for 300 francs have been very gratefully received. I will send them into Morgan & Harjes and Cie to be held for me there. Please thank Rob and Beatrice and Geo. and Julie Baldwin for me until I have time to write them.

Castles on the Rhine, 2010

I wish I could give you some definite information regarding our status over here. Our plans are only made for the day ahead. Tomorrow we move to Mayence or Mainz on the Rhine. That’s exactly all I can tell you. Rumors have come that one load of S.S.U. men will return to the States in March and another in June. If I had my say we would all leave tonight. We are useless as an organization up here with the French. They don’t need us nor do they want us. They are enduring us, I think, merely as a favor in view of our services with the French armies. I think every American should have been kept out of this occupation business and let the countries who really know how to handle this situation fix things up. We Americans don’t understand what it’s all about. We can’t begin to know the German as do the French and English. I’m afraid we would make an awful mess of this thing if we were left to settle the whole thing. We have helped whip a world pest. This is our only direct benefit from the war. Therefore what right have we got over here now. The French are beginning to resent our being here at this time and will resent it more the longer we stay over here and the more we butt into what is rightfully theirs. I know you can’t understand this but I think you could if you were in my position.

Our Xmas dinner will probably be eaten somewhere along the Rhine. I shall be thinking of you all then as I am now – as I have never thought before. I surely do want to get out of this country. And, Dad, even if I can get discharged over here I don’t believe I shall want to tarry on the way home. I should like to travel over here when there is no sign of war and the effects of war. That can’t be done now nor for many years to come. I don’t ever want to see another uniform.

Good night.

With love,
Grant.

Our white American bread almost created a panic in this town.

2018-12-07T08:00:00.000-05:00

Grant gives his family his first impressions of Germany and the Germans.

Convois Autos.,
S.S.U. 647,
Par B.C.M.,
France.

Saturday – Dec. 7, 1918

Dearest Family:-

My last letter to you was written from St. Avold in Lorraine. Since then we have made four moves. I am now writing you from Germany proper. We expect to move north again tomorrow. From St. Avold we moved north to Saarbrücken in Prussia. From Saarbrücken we moved south and east to a place called Bitch in Lorrain again. Here we were attached to the 33rd Army Corps of the 10th French Army of occupation. With them we moved north into Germany again – to a place called Deux-Ponts (or Zweibrücken if you have a German map). Then we moved northwest to Ottweiler where we are now. Tomorrow we expect to follow our army still further north probably stopping in St. Wendel for a day or two. We are headed toward Mayence [Mainz] on the Rhine where we expect to be in a week or so. Mayence is one of the French bridge-heads mentioned in the armistice, if you will remember. The troops of occupation take the territory within a radius of 30 kilos of these bridge-heads – Mayence, Coblenz and Cologne as stated in the armistice. We may even cross the Rhine. Who knows?

Now of course you want to know all about conditions in Germany and our experiences here. I was never so surprised in my life as I was at the conditions in Germany. Since the day we crossed the old battle line just south of Château Salins we have experienced one surprise after another. At St. Avold, as I told you, we staged our Thanksgiving dinner. Or course, we furnished most of the food ourselves because we had already bought it in Nancy – not because the Germans couldn’t have furnished it or even better. In Saarbrücken (Germany proper) I went with Luykx, who speaks German, to a restaurant and ate steak that melted in our mouths together with German-fried spuds and vegetables and wine all for 8 marks a piece. (One mark up here is worth from 65 to 70 centimes now about 14¢) In other words our meal cost us about one dollar and fifteen cents which is cheaper than we could have bought the same meal for in France and the steak was far better.

Another surprise came when the young German kids started swarming around our kitchen eating bread with sugar on it between meals. White sugar and plenty of it!! Their bread is not white like ours but a dark brown, darker even than the French war bread. Our white American bread almost created a panic in this town. Old women climbed all over one another just to take a look at it. The foods which they seem to be shortest of are white flour, butter, grease of all kinds, eggs and chocolate. They go crazy over chocolate.

All that we have seen in print about the German people wearing paper clothing is a lot of bunk. Their cloth is as good as ours and as plentiful as far as I can see. I haven’t priced any but there is plenty of good looking material on the roll on display in show windows. Leather apparently is expensive. The majority of shoes for the common people are made of imitation leather with wooden soles but in many ways they are more practical for this weather than leather soled shoes.

Of course, our reception into Germany was not of the warmest. But that could only be expected. They regard us as invaders not occupiers. But they are watched very closely and as far as we have seen have been very decent. They are afraid of us. They get off the sidewalks when they see us coming. Perhaps it’s because we all carry guns on our hips. We are nowhere near gruff and brutish enough with them. But I can’t picture any of our men cutting the hands and feet off a few of these German kids (and I never saw so many dirty kids in my life) and beating the women. Even the French are too lenient. But we are not brutes enough by nature to duplicate German atrocities.

Grant in Germany

During our stay on German soil we haven’t seen one German automobile which would indicate lack of gasoline. The roads around here have seen no motor traffic which has left them in perfect condition. The country is beautiful though the weather just now is very disagreeably wet.

I can’t tell you any more about when I’ll be coming home. I don’t yet understand why we have been sent up in here. There is nothing for us to do but odds and ends of things. The experience is worth something though I dislike the Germans the more I see of them. Germany, on the whole, is much more like America than France is but the people are certainly not to be depended upon. They are very treacherous in a gross way.

There are exceptions. I am writing you from a café in this town run by an old lady who lived four years in St. Louis, Mo. She is very nice to us, turning over her place for us to eat and loaf in. She likes America and Americans and can’t understand what this scrap is all about. I imagine there are many more like her in Germany. They don’t know nor will they believe that Germany was beaten in this war. To them this occupation is merely a step in the formality of assuring permanent peace. They rely much on President Wilson.

Now I must write Dot.

The same old love,

Grant.