Same old Bill, eh Mable! by Edward Streeter
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Edward Streeter >> Same old Bill, eh Mable!
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[Illustration: "MARCHED TILL MY PACK GAINED A HUNDRED AN FIFTY POUNDS"]
"Same old Bill, eh Mable!"
BY
EDWARD STREETER
27TH (N.Y.) DIVISION
Author of "Dere Mable," "Thats me all over, Mable"
_WITH 27 ILLUSTRATIONS IN BLACK-AND-WHITE BY_
G. WILLIAM BRECK
("_Bill Breck_")
27th (N.Y.) DIVISION
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1919, by_
Frederick A. Stokes Company
PREFACE
The rightful place for a preface is at the end of a book or, better
still, the scrap basket. My only reason for setting it here is lest
someone read and, misunderstanding, take offense.
Not for one moment has there been any thought of making light of that
splendid, almost foolhardy, bravery which has characterized the
American soldier. It was he himself who made light of it, as he did of
the whole war, and probably would of doomsday.
Nor is there anything unkind or deprecating in his attitude toward the
Frenchman. He met a race so distinct from his in ideals and customs
that there was no basis for understanding. Failing to understand, he
followed his usual rule in such instances and laughed.
One of those veterans of a dozen battles, chancing to glance over
these pages, may say that the dangers and horrors of those last five
months have been underrated. They, however, belong to a comparatively
small and enviable minority. Those who turned the tide in July, 1918,
and who knocked the line at St. Mihiel into its proper place in
September, also bore the brunt on the Meuse and the dreary
mud-spattered monotony of the Army of Occupation. The great mass of
the American army saw but a few brief weeks of fighting during October
and November. Thousands of other Bills, equally brave and more eager
because it was denied them, never heard the sound of guns except on
the target range.
This is not a treatise on International Relations. It is not a
chronology of battles. It is not a memorial of brave deeds. It is
merely a few impressions of Pvt. William Smith, Buck, placed in a
situation so new, so incomparable, that it had wiser men than he
guessing. He was one of those who left their reasons for being "there"
to be analyzed by men not so occupied in the business of keeping
alive. He would have been bored to death if you had tried to explain
them to him anyway. His loyalty and patriotism were so unquestioned
that its discussion was absurd. Sentimental, yet so sensitive to
obvious sentimentality that he died many times making fun of the
things that he was dying for.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Marched till my pack gained a hundred an fifty pounds"
"Everybody had a beard on both sides of his face"
"Beat the buttons off them with a big board"
"Everyone tucks there napkins under there chins"
"They just ishued us overseers caps an rapped leggins"
"Will have to lean them up agenst something"
"Tyin it under your chin like a bib"
"Mike Whozis, the Captins orderly"
"Ive found the first real use for my tin derby"
"Another boiler blew up right in front of us"
"Lem Wattles what never had his name in the paper"
"Were livin right up in the trenches now"
"It doesnt look as if it had ever exploded"
"There was the Lootenant boostin the Major out of the trench"
"I stuck my head around the bush"
"You ought to have seen those two Lootenants come down"
"'Do you happen to have any lemonade?'"
"Tried to make a blanket roll in six inches of mud"
"All I do is scratch, scratch, scratch"
"The people here wear wooden shoes an have no shapes"
"A German bed is like a loaf of bread thats rose to much"
"They take off there hats to us"
"Levels it off with a piece of bread"
"They lined us all up"
"That little snub nosed thing across the street"
"Im going to be just plain Mr. Bill Smith"
_"Same Old Bill, Eh Mable!"_
_Dere Mable:_
Were in sunny France at last. I cant tell you much about it yet on
account of its avin been so foggy since we got here. We didnt deboat
in Paris as I was expectin. We sailed up a river to a town with a wall
around it and got off there. I dont know what the wall was for unless
to keep people in. They certinly wouldnt need one to keep anybody out
of that place. Were now in what they call a rest camp. If this is
restin then all they say about war is true.
For the last two days weve been unpackin boats. You havnt any idear
how refreshin it is to pile up about 5 milyon cases of corn Willie.
Ive been puttin on weight ever since I got here but its all been on my
back.
Some of the fellos think they got us mixed up with one of these Steva
Dora regiments. It dont seem to worry the Captin much. Theres no
reason it should tho. All he has to do is to sit on a box an keep the
quartermaster from gettin over-stocked on cigars.
The day we got in they tied us out in the middle of the river. They
left us there so long that there was a roomer the war was over an we
was goin to turn around an go home. When it comes to takin that trip
right over agen I say on with the war.
We lay around there so long I was beginnin to feel like the keeper of
a light ship. Then they got into an awful hurry all of a sudden an
piled pretty near the whole boat load onto one coal barge. Our Bilitin
oficer met us at the dock. Hed been over here a month gettin things
fixed up for us. From the way he acted youd think he was the fello
that invented the war.
After that we got out in the country and marched till my pack gained a
hundred an fifty pounds an my tung was lyin on my chest. Joe said we
needed a rest camp after a hike like that. When wed walked about six
miles, or killen meters as they call them over here, we turned into a
bare field. The Bilitin oficer said that was the camp.
Just then it started to rain. The Captin told the Top to make us all
comfortable. Then he remembered some business in town and went away
before he had a chance to hear any first impreshuns about rest camps.
The Bilitin oficer must have wore himself out findin us a nice place
like this with only a month to do it in. Id like to see what hed turn
out if he only had a couple of days. It rained all night. When I get
home Ill be able to put in a good night in the swimmin pool of a Turks
bath.
The next mornin we started in on intensive restin. We unpacked a whole
boat out onto a dock. Then some General came along. I guess he thought
we still looked a little peaked. He says "Just run that stuff into the
shed across the tracks." The place he called a shed would have made a
nice hanger for the New York Central stashun.
They tell me now were not goin right up to the front. We got to go to
school agen to learn something. If I had a diploma for every school I
been to in the last year my room would look like a dentle parlor.
The French seem glad to see us but they cant express themselves very
well. They dont seem to talk the same kind of French the fello learned
us in the Y.M.C.A. last winter. There all mixed up on there money too.
About the only way a fello can buy anything is to hold out all hes got
and let them take what they want. I guess theyll never overcharge me
by takin all I can hold out.
The whole sistem is based on the Sue, Mable. As near as I can make out
a Sue aint worth anything. A hundred Sues make a Centimeter an a
hundred Centimeters make a Frank. Five Franks make a dollar only now
they dont. That gives you an idear how simple it is to go into a store
an figger what you can buy with a quarter.
I hear the battery comin back so I guess Ill quit this and fall in on
the tail of the colyum. It isnt that I wouldnt just as soon have them
all know where Ive been, but it makes the Captin feel a lot better to
have me there at formashuns.
Yours if I survive the rest
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
If you ever have to do any travelin in France, walk. I dont suppose
you ever took a five day trip in an open trolly. We traveled five days
an all the time straight away from the front. First we thought we was
goin to Italy but we must have passed that long ago. They finally
landed us in a little town with about a hundred people, fifty cows an
no pictur show. The more I see of this country the more patriotic I
get.
The train we came down on looked like one I had when I was a kid on
tracks. You felt somebody ought to get out an wind the engine every
time it stopped. Whenever we got to stashuns a lot of fellos in long
coats would come out an blow whissels. Sometimes wed start but most of
the time nothin happened. At last I found a job for the Top sargent
when the war is over.
The cars are marked 1st, 2nd an 3rd class. The difference is that the
wheels on the 1st class has only got one flat side. The 2nd class has
got two, an the 3rd class wheels are square. We ride in the 3rd class.
Luckily the cars has only got four wheels. There so short you couldnt
get any more under them if you wanted to.
There freight cars are all Ford models to. On the doors they got
painted "Hommes 40 Chevaux 8." Thats French for 40 men an 8 horses.
That struck me as funny till I figgered out that they probably pack
five men between each horse sos they wont rattle round so much.
Of course nobody could ever collect tickets on a train like this. So
they got a saloon in every stashun insted of a ticket office. They
make the road pay on those. The first time we stopped Angus got off an
bought a bottle of Vinrooge wine. Thats a drink the French use. They
must wash in it to cause I havnt seen any water since I been here.
Marv Motel, one of the new fellos in the battery, said if you could
get two or three quarts of that under your belt it would act like a
couple of bottles of beer an help you to sleep. So at the next stashun
Angus got enuff for three quarts apiece.
The Vinrooge wine acted the way Marv said it would only he must have
meant two cases of beer insted of two bottles. It put everybody to
sleep like an anisthetic but Angus. He kept awake to finish what was
left. The last I saw of him he was singin Skotch songs out the windo
at the Engineer. One nice thing about these trains is the Top cant get
at you between stashuns.
You ought to have seen that bunch the next mornin. It would have been
an awful encouragin site for the Kiser. Everybody had a beard on both
sides of his face, inside an out an they wasnt talkin any more than
was necessary to call somebody something.
[Illustration: "EVERYBODY HAD A BEARD ON BOTH SIDES OF HIS FACE"]
About noon they got us out at some stashun sos the Captin could give
us the devil for not keepin neat an clean. Nobody minded much cause he
didnt look as tho hed spent the night in no dry cleaners himself.
Well, Mable, we just sat there for three days an three nights. I began
to think we must be goin home by the overland root. The only reason we
didnt murder nobody was because we didnt have room. Every once in a
while wed stop at a stashun an some red cross nurses would bring
around coffee. Only they wasnt red an they wasnt cross. Most of us was
so glad to see a woman that we could say something to besides "Ah We"
that we didnt menshun the coffee. Its funny what youll take from a
woman when it would be death for a mess sargent.
The Captin said wed have to stay in this town a week or two on account
of the school were goin to bein full. The Bilitin oficer came down
ahead as usual. This time he only had two days. After seein what he
could do in a month we didnt expect much. We got it. Ten of us are
roomin in a hay barn. The only good thing about it is that when your
in bed the Top sargent cant tell wether your there or not without
takin out all the hay.
As soon as we got here I noticed something awful strong an it wasnt no
geranium bed ether. Were getting used to it now. You can tell how rich
a Frenchman is by the size of his manure pile. There so proud of them
they set them right outside there windos sos they can sit an watch
them an never forget them. The bigger the pile the bigger man you are
in your home town. All I can say is Im glad the people we live with is
poor. Id hate to be bileted with the Mayor.
I got to quit now. The sensor cuts out most of this anyway. They say
he tears off half of every letter to lighten the mails.
au reservoir as the French say
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
Id have rote you sooner only the sensor wont let me tell where I am an
I couldnt think of nothin else to say. This is the third letter Ive
rote since we landed. Im a little worried about the other two cause
the Captin said we couldnt menshun the names of no places. So I just
addressed them to Mable Gimp, nothin else.
In case you dont receive letters like that I wish youd let me know.
Then I wont be expectin any answer. Ritin letters from here is like
talkin to a fello over the fone that aint there.
Im having a little trouble with the languige. Its tricky. A lot of
these French words is the same as ours only they dont mean the same
thing. Like "Pan" an "We" an "Mercy" an "Toot sweet." As soon as I
find what the words stand for Ill be all right.
Some of the fellos dont seem to get onto the idear of this thing at
all. They think if they talk like they had an egg in there mouth an
put in lots of zs its French. Take Joe Loomis for instance. He talks
like a German thats lived with the French Canadians for a while. Hell
go into a lunch room an say "Geeve me ze beef stak rar, mit ze
on-yon." Then he gets sore when they put the wine list in front of
him.
It aint the wine list that makes him sore of course. He cant get over
the American custom tho of eatin with his meals.
The first three days we was here we didnt have no guns nor horses or
nothin. I thought perhaps the Captin would give us a chance to get
over that rest camp, but he seems to have an idear tho that just so
many of us has got to be killed in the war an the quicker he gets it
over with the better. So every day he walks us about ten killen
meters with the sun hot enuff to boil eggs.
The guns came yesterday. There painted up like a ten cent sunset. They
call them Soizant Cans, whatever kind that is. They look pretty much
in the bean blower class to me. One of those guns we left back in the
States would take care of the four of them. But of course after
polishin those up last winter till I almost wore them out the Captin
had to come off an forget them. I guess now were stuck with these.
No horses came with the guns. I suppose we got to pull them around
ourselves for the rest of the war. I can just here the Captin tellin
Gen. Perishing, "No, no, General. My men havnt got a thing to do.
Outside of a couple of single mounts for the oficers I wont need a
horse."
I wish your mother could see the wimmin wash close over here. She
might get more enjoyment out of that lawndress of hers. There is a lot
of summer houses down beside a creek behind the town. Every day they
go down there an stand in a barrel right in the creek. First they take
the close an drag them around the creek for a while. Then they lay
them on a wooden block an beat the buttons off them with a big board.
A button in a steam lawndry leads a life of quiet ease compared with
these.
[Illustration: "BEAT THE BUTTONS OFF THEM WITH A BIG BOARD"]
After they get them hammered out flat they hang them on a barb wire
fence. In the evening they take home anything the cows has left in
an old wheelbarro. I guess by that time there dirty enuff to wash agen
cause there always washin and you dont see no results.
We spend all our time now drillin with those little guns. Of course
there different from those we had in the States so everything we
learned over there has to be forgot. As far as I can make out we might
as well have learned basket weavin for all the good it did us.
Well, Mable, have as good a time as you can at home. I know how
tiresome those broken-winded fellos must be. Id go around with them
tho once in a while in case they should ask you. Democratic. Thats me
all over, Mable. Its the only thing your father an me has got in
common. Besides it will make it seem all the better when I get home.
Yours in spite of these things
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
I guess your last letter must have been sensored to death cause I
never got it. I been over here three weeks now an the only letter I
got was a bill for some flowers I sent you a year ago. That fello
would make more money as a detective then a flowerist. I bet hed have
found Charlie Ross if Charlied owed him any money. I expect to be
sittin propped up agenst the wall some day in the Old Soldiers Home
an about six postmen will come staggerin in the gate with my mail.
Keep on ritin tho. I can always turn it over to some historical
society.
Saturday an Sunday was the end of the week so the Captin let a few of
us go in to a big town near here to take a bath. Hes always tryin to
stick a little extra duty like that into a mans private time.
Me an Angus an Marv Motel went down together in a truck. I dont
suppose you ever road in a truck with only two other fellos in it. I
bet it goes farther up an down then straight ahead. Angus was all for
seein the town as soon as we got there, that bein about the only thing
that didnt involve spendin money. We compromized by seem the
restawrants first.
Its interesting to lissen to the French eat, they enjoy things so.
Everyone tucks there napkins under there chins like your father used
to before he had a hired girl insted of your mother.
[Illustration: "EVERYONE TUCKS THERE NAPKINS UNDER THERE CHINS"]
The French is awful optimistic eaters. By takin everything separate
they can work themselves into believin theyve had a course dinner. If
they had such a thing as oatmeal an cream I bet theyd make you eat the
oatmeal first an drink the cream afterwards.
Every time you look away you get a clean plate. All you need to start
a restawrant in France is a thousand plates an a dozen eggs. The rest
of the food doesnt matter much. About everything you ask for is
"Defended." That seems to be the same as "Just out" in American. In
most places its just a question of how long you can think of things to
ask for before you end up with an omlet. The only place you can get
real French cookin Mable is in the States.
Theres a bunch of French soldiers in town. Most of them have beards an
little bags hangin all over them. I wish theyd let us wear beards. You
wouldnt have to go round with your collar buttoned all the time then.
When I first got into town I thought it must be a holiday or something
cause the saloons was overflowin right out on the sidewalks. Everybody
was sittin round at little tables drinkin beer. I went in one tho an
there wasnt a soul inside but flies. It certinly is mixin. In one
place a fello wont take a drink unless he can go behind a screen. Over
here he wont have it anywhere but in the middle of the street. I can
see your father sittin out on Main street in a wicker chair with a
stein of beer in his hands.
Well Mable at the rate Im not receivin mail I wont be able to tell
wether its last winter or next winter that your talkin about when I
finally get your letters. Im going to keep on ritin tho just to annoy
the sensor.
Yours in haste
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
In a training camp once more beginin all over agen. If we had a school
system like this in civil life a fello would never live to finish high
school.
Were not livin in stables any more. They got us now in long stone
buildins with wood cots in them. I suppose somebody back at
headquarters heard of soft pine an thought it would be a good thing
for makin beds. I feel as full of bones as an old herrin.
We didnt have to pull the guns over after all. They tied them on
behind trucks. I was makin up a nice bed for myself in the back of a
truck when the Captin stuck his head in. He certinly believes in
exercisin his neck. As soon as he saw I was comfortable he says
"Smith, you ride on the end caisson an watch the brake." There was no
use tellin him Id seen the darn thing every day for two weeks. He
thinks he knows everything.
Of course youve never ridden on a caisson tied behind a truck. You
never went hitchin with a bob sled behind an express train in the
middle of summer nether. It was just luck that the old thing happened
to be under me every time I came down. Some times it would go crazy an
run from one side of the road to the other like it was lookin for a
chance to pass the truck. I dont know what would have happened if the
rope hadnt busted. That caisson must have thought it was a tank. It
turned right off the road, ran over a little ditch an tried to clime
a tree. It didnt have the build tho an quit.
The next thing I remember the Captin was sayin "Smith, what are you
tryin to do with that caisson, smash it?" Just as if Id swiped the
darn thing to go for a joy ride.
Well, Mable, your letter came at last. From the looks of it they must
have dragged the mail bag all the way. That certinly was interestin
about that poor young fello Archie Wainwright. It must be awful to
have a murmur in your heart when you want to go to war so bad.
Tell him not to worry about missin the war cause when I get back Ill
show him so much about it hell feel like a veteran in half an hour an
his family will be hangin out a service flag.
We just got ishued two new Lootenants inside of a week. Its gettin
harder an harder to rite anything interestin that youll understand.
For instance the first Lootenant was a 2nd and the second Lootenant
was a 1st. That shows you how tecknickle it all is but of course its
over your head like a shower-bath.
One of the Lootenants came over as a casulty oficer. He just came now
from Sam Moores College of Artilery over here in France. They turn
them out of there like Fords. If he knows as much as he admits he does
I dont see why they bother to put a high priced fello like Fosh in
command for.
Were bein learned mostly by French oficers. There awful polite. I
wish the Captin could hear them. Joe says he was made a gentleman by
an act of Congress when they made him an oficer. Congress certinly has
a lot of power in war time.
In the army your not supposed to be able to use anything till you know
how its made. You dont know how to put on a gas mask till you know
whats in the tin box an who was the first fello to use it. You cant
talk over a fone till your able to sit down an make one out of an old
cigar box an a piece of balin wire.
I never knew so little about so much in my life. You sit here all day
an lissen to a fello tell you how if you multiply something by enuff
other things you can hit a Fritz in the stummick three miles away.
Everythings tricky about this gun. Insted of shootin where you want to
hit like a man you look at a thermometer an a barometer, add em
together an look up the result in a little pink almanak. That tells
you where to shoot. I dont like this mystick stuff. Frank and
straitforward. Thats me all over, Mable.
They just ishued us overseers caps an rapped leggins. Theres one good
thing about these overseers caps. You cant put them out of shape like
the felt hats cause they never had any shape to begin with. I cant say
much in favor of the rapped leggins tho for a fello that never had any
experience with first aid or nothin.
[Illustration: "THEY JUST ISHUED US OVERSEERS CAPS AN RAPPED LEGGINS"]
I cant see any sense tho in ishuin close like a pictur puzzle. They
might just as well ishue your coat an pants in seckshuns an let you
hook em together every mornin.
I got to quit now. I was left behind to clean out the barracks an I
hear the battery comin in from drill so I got to hussle. Tell Archie
to cheer up about the war. When I come home hell be wearin so many
wound stripes hell be lookin like a zebra.
Yours till Archie gets a service stripe
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
Theyve made me a door tender to a Soizant Cans. All Ive got to do is
to open the door an another fello puts in the shell. Then I close the
door an start the shell on its way with a piece of string. Its a
pretty important job cause if I dont latch the door the whole works
will probably come out the back entrance.
Our horses came today. They must have thought this was a mobile
vetrinary hospittle insted of a battery. Whoever grooms those things
will have to lean them up agenst something. I read somewhere how the
average life of a horse in this war is only 60 days. Accordin to that
this bunch has seen about seven weeks service already.
[Illustration: "WILL HAVE TO LEAN THEM UP AGENST SOMETHING"]
Every mornin we go out to the range an shoot away liberty bonds. The
good part about shootin into a desert like that is that theres nothin
out there to hit so you can call it a bullseye no matter where you
land. The oficers just walk around shakin hands an tellin each other
what good shots they are. They sit up behind the guns in a place that
looks like the press box of a baseball game. It has a nice roof an
everything. When it rains they just pull their toes in sos the water
wont drip offen the roof on them. Then they say "This is war. We cant
stop for a little wet." Every time a fello fires they call it a
problem. About the biggest problem is to figger what their firin at.
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