Love from Chezeaux: World War One Letters from an American Soldier

By Clarence A. Bush and Lyn Allyn

Personal letters and drawings herein portray the life of a young soldier, Private Clarence Augustus Bush, during World War I. While serving in France he wrote home frequently to his bride Margaret.

The 101st Field Artillery of 26th Division from New England, C Battery; abruptly left Camp Devens, Massachusetts in early September 1917. In France, Clarence drove horse-drawn caissons carrying artillery ammunition to the front lines while facing artillery fire, bombings, mustard gas, explosions, sleepless nights, knee-deep mud and freezing rain.

Clarence drew portraits of fellow soldiers, French villages and the French countryside. His first-person account of the Second Battle of the Marne was published in the Christian Science Monitor as a series in 1918.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312354876

Book preview

Love from Chezeaux: World War One Letters from an American Soldier

Copyright

Love From Chezeaux: WWI Letters From an American Soldier

Second Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Lyn Allyn. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-312-35487-6

First Edition available in paperback print version.

Copyright © 2006 by Lyn Allyn. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4259-5832-9

Library of Congress Control Number: 2006908951

Introduction

Personal letters, drawings and narratives in this work, from July 1917 through April 1919, portray the life of a young soldier, Private Clarence Augustus Bush, during World War I. While serving in France he frequently wrote home to his bride Margaret.

Clarence arrived in Boston from rural Indiana as a young man in his late teens, with an eighth grade education and dreams of a career in journalism. When the United States declared war on Germany in 1917 he volunteered with the 101st Field Artillery of the 26th Division from New England[i], C Battery.

C Battery abruptly left Camp Devens, Massachusetts in September 1917. Initially the Army experience proved a great adventure. They served in France 19 months: nine months continuously in the front lines.

During service overseas Clarence wrote to Margaret whenever possible. He drew pictures of fellow soldiers, the surrounding countryside and French villages. Accounts herein include first-person experiences at Verdun, and the Second Battle of the Marne, first published as a series in the Christian Science Monitor, September through November, 1918.

Love from Chezeaux: WWI Letters From an American Soldier is dedicated to my grandparents, Margaret and Clarence Bush.

Lyn Allyn

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[i]Yankee Division

The Inauguration

Newlyweds Margaret Schwalm and Clarence Bush

Camp Devens, MA; July 1917

July 26, 1917

My Darling Wife,

Work in the hot sun is hard as the deuce but I think from my first day of it, I will like it immensely. I just had supper, a big one and good, and I’m feeling pretty fine.

This morning I got over to Peabody Square just in time to whistle, to stop the car a block away; that was luck. It took me down to Adams Square where I met another Battery C fellow. We missed the Commonwealth Avenue car so we walked up to Park Street. We arrived seven minutes late but so did half the battery.

We got away from the Armory at seven o’clock and marched to Charleston freight yards. We were supposed to leave at ten-thirty but we didn’t till eleven-thirty. Our work consisted of leading the gun caisson carriages onto the flat cars. We had lunch on the train. When we got into camp we immediately pitched tents. Each man owns a cot and two sleeping sacks. Tonight we ate beef stew, prunes, bread and cocoa for supper plus a second helping if you wanted it.

Why don’t you come down here Sunday? Nearly all the fellows have someone coming down. It may be the last time you’ll see me for a long, long time. You can get a train at North Station. Have someone come with you and bring two towels and a cake of Life Boy soap, will you?

Your Sweetheart, Clarence

July 31, 1917

My Darling Wife,

Today we were sworn into the service of Uncle Sam as regulars, no longer are we National Guard. We earned a reputation in the camp as the crack battery. We drilled before a crowd in the heat of the day, with the band playing. It was the hardest drill we ever had. Another battery that rested half the time while we drilled, gave up before we left the field; they couldn’t stand the heat. Afterwards we heard that everybody was talking about the work that we did. The captain was pleased and complimented us several times during the drill.

When we returned to our tents we wrung water from every article of clothing. I sweat about a gallon. The boys say federal officers reviewed us. That is why the captain drilled us  so hard. I enjoyed it, though. We all did. We laid around our tents about an hour afterward, stripped while our clothes dried on the tent.

I am glad you want me to address your letters differently. My mother prefers her letters addressed in her own name, and I thought you might too, but I am proud to have you use my Christian name.

I just had a good swim in a deep lake behind the automobile park. It is rock bottom and cool, believe me. When a fellow comes out of there he feels pretty good. We did our washing then went over to the canteen on the road and drank a little pop, ate a hot dog and half an apple pie each. I feel like having a darn good night’s sleep now.

You are a dear thoughtful girl to go after my things. If your husband wasn’t so lazy he’d have taken them out of there long ago. My pen went dry and the YMCA tent is stuffed to the gills, so I write by the lantern sitting on the foot of another fellow’s cot.

Rumors abound that we travel to Boston Friday for a parade Saturday morning at the Armory. After the parade we get thirty-six hours leave and then return to Boxford Monday morning. This rumor was contradicted, started again, and again contradicted. If true, I’ll let you know.

Teddy’s blueberry muffins tasted great. I gave two of them to Horne, also candy and an orange. He is the boy who offered to relieve me, the one who walked up and down so much. He appreciated it, for nobody came to see him and he didn’t have anything. We are growing to be chums; he hunts me up all the time.

Now that we are regulars we expect to get some new equipment. If I come Friday it may be in a brand new khaki outfit.

Your loving husband, Clarence

August 1, 1917

Dear Wife of Mine,

Your sweet letter came tonight, and I am glad you were so thoughtful to write. It means a lot to a fellow to get a letter. He feels pretty blue when everyone gets letters and he doesn’t.

This morning we swam twice in succession. We had two and a half hours and believe me we took it. This afternoon it was so hot we laid around in our tents half naked, reading magazine stories out loud to the gang. Some of the fellows still have eats and passed them around until we felt so full we didn’t care for our regular meals. Tonight we had a great supper. Roast beef well done, thick gravy, two boiled potatoes, prunes, bread and iced tea.

We hiked in the terrible heat this afternoon, but we didn’t travel far before the officers tired and gave us a five minute rest by the roadside, then turned around and came back. We were all nearly overcome. These drills put me into great physical trim. They sweat the sweet stuff out of our stomachs and give us an appetite for our meals.

Our pictures were in The Record last night. I am sending you some that I tore out, for you to keep. There are some pictures of the camp in the Traveler tonight. I’ll try to get hold of a copy and have you save them to start a scrapbook. You can keep them better than I can because I can’t accumulate too much stuff. I sent the pictures from another Record to the twins; I’m writing them separate letters as usual.

The second regiment band plays tonight for some boxing bouts. It’s pretty hot. I should think the fellows would rather rest than box.

This morning our little hound mascot, not the Great Dane, touched his nose to my chin, waking me up just before the call. I patted him and he went on to the next tent. I guess he woke them all up. I’ll see if he does it tomorrow.

My wife has all my love. Your husband Clarence

August 2, 1917

Darling Wife,

No letter came from you today, but I am into the habit of writing, so guess I’ll write to you anyhow to keep it up.

Everything is damp. It is nine pm Just after supper a big storm blew up, causing a little excitement. We were called out of our tents and marched out into the open drill grounds. It was all over shortly and camp life resumed its usual activities. There was a little storm this afternoon; just a shower and afterward they issued us new socks and underwear. We gradually get our equipment.

Nothing develops regarding our parade in Boston. Now the talk is of a big regimental review next Sunday here on the grounds, with all batteries of both regiments going through foot drills. I’m feeling great. I think I’m getting toned up in great shape.

The review will be a great sight, and if you hear nothing further from me, come out Sunday if you can. I would certainly love to have you here every chance, darling wife of mine. The more I think about you the more I love you, the dearest girl, the sweetest face in all the world.

Your husband Clarence

August 3, 1917

Darling Wife,

Two letters came from you today, postmarked the second and third. I certainly was happy to get them. Thanks for the toothpicks.

This morning we ate a breakfast to remember. The menu included corn mush with sugar and milk, steak, bread and coffee. The best part, there was so much steak, the cooks called us back to eat it up. I ate two helpings of mush, three steaks and six slices of bread. I was so full I could hardly walk and keep my equilibrium.

After breakfast we did the usual setting up exercises, and went for a hike in the country. We halted for a rest beside woods full of blackberries. I picked several handfuls. When we returned to camp they gave us some drills. I learned the corporal gunner’s job; the most responsible position on the gun was pleased because that is the only job I didn’t know and not everyone gets a chance to learn it.

This afternoon we went for another hike. It was a humdinger, up a hill called Baldpate. Baldpate Inn is up there. The boys say it is the one the author wrote about in Seven Keys to Baldpate. It was a big success as a novel and is also played on the stage.

We only took one rest stop on the way there, about four miles. It is the highest point for miles. Through the field glasses we saw New Hampshire and Vermont cities. I didn’t look through the glasses except once, although we were supposed to, for I was on the hot foot for berries. I ate so many I began to feel sick. I should have rested instead of running around after berries, for on the hike back we hustled right through without a single halt. When I got back I was about dead. I took off my leggings and shoes and stretched out on the cot. I never knew a bed to feel so good. I slept until time for retreat formation.

They delivered your letters to me at mess and I read them while I ate my salmon hash, prunes and iced tea. Tonight some of the boys got twenty-four hours leave from camp. When I heard of so many of them getting off I went to the captain. Before I spoke he said, All gone, I’m only allowed nineteen tonight. So I was out of luck. I’ll request leave next Sunday if you come up here this Sunday. Will you? Bring some good things to eat. If you make a cake make it quite a bit sweeter than you usually do. It seems a year since I have seen you. It certainly will be great to see you again.

Your loving husband, Clarence

August 8, 1917

Dear Wife of Mine,

Your letter came tonight with Ma’s. Thank you for sending my sister’s address. I am writing her tonight.

This eventful day we drilled all morning as usual, but this afternoon we got new shoes, cotton trousers and two new  shirts. They say there is another pair of shoes to come, another pair of trousers, a cotton blouse and a new hat. After we got our new clothes we had our pictures taken individually, holding a slate in our hands with chalk marks telling who we are, battery and regiment. I think it the rogue’s gallery in case we desert and they have to find us. We may be able to buy copies printed on post cards, and if we are I will send one home to you. You get what I mean, don’t you? Wherever you are, home is, whether you are housekeeping or not.

Tonight I have battery guard. I hoped to get regimental guard, for I have had battery guard before but in the Army we take what comes and say nothing.

We haven’t had very good food today. Maybe some liked the spaghetti and stewed, dry peaches and iced cocoa for supper, but nobody liked lime water for lunch. I forget what we had for breakfast but you know if it had been good I would have remembered it. I gave a piece of Teddy’s cake to H.W. and the minute he tasted it he asked, Does she want to get married? If she comes up here this Sunday, I’m going to hang around. I told him to hang around if he wants, but not cheat me out of my share of cake.

There is no chance for me to get off next Saturday to come home so you will have to come up here. Practically the whole battery applied for passes this weekend and only nineteen can be given out. The captain picks names as he chooses, so we think.

Talk goes around that we will not leave this camp until October. Someone connected with the colonel’s tent started this rumor but some say even the colonel doesn’t know from day to day how long we will be here. However, from a hunch of my own, I’ll bet we are not out of here before the middle of September, so we can see each other several times yet and there is no doubt that I will get home at least once before going south.

Dear girl, as long as I am glad, and you are glad that we got married when we did and how we did, I don’t consider there is anyone else to please, so anyone else’s opinion is not worth listening to.

Your husband sends all his love. Clarence

August 5, 1917

Darling Wife,

This has been a pretty good day for me. You remember yesterday I said I was aching for exercise. Well, I got it today in good measure.

After Reveille we took a long double quick hike down the battery street, around the drill grounds and back again. A run like that when you are yet hardly awake makes a fellow dizzy. Before reaching the end of the street and the drill grounds, I felt as though I ran a mile. When we got around the field once, I was ready to drop. Two fellows in my squad stumbled and fell as we turned back into the battery street. How I managed to stagger up to the end of the street is beyond explanation, and as soon as we fell out I flopped into my bunk and breathed hard for ten minutes. Everybody was completely winded.

Then after breakfast we had setting up exercises. Some exercises! The fellows complained the top sergeant gave too many of them. A few are good for you they said, but so many tear you down. Every muscle in my body, from scalp to toenail felt strained and sore for the rest of the morning, but I didn’t join in passing around the complaints. The rest of the morning we drilled on the guns under the instruction of First Lieutenant Tolby. Most of us left morning mess with empty stomachs; the creamed toast was not fit to eat. We expected to fill up at noon mess. They served very good vegetable soup, but not enough of it, so we didn’t fill up at lunch.

We are not supposed to drill until ten n minutes of two, but at one o’clock sharp they dragged the cannoneers of the last four sections, including mine, out of their tents, dressed them up in blue jeans, and marched them into the woods with picks, shovels and axes over their shoulders, to finish digging a gun concealment, dugout and connecting trench which the cannoneers of the first four sections started this morning. I dug a while with five shifts of four men doing five minutes of digging, and then resting till their next turn. Then they sent my digging shift into the woods to the woodcutters felling timbers to support the roof of the dugout. All afternoon we carried timbers. The dugout is the underground hotel where men sleep at night and hide in the daytime when not fighting. The trench covered over, connects with the gun, which is concealed about ten yards away.

Today they passed out more woolen britches. I now have three pair. Also they distributed woolen sweaters which the Red Cross contributed to the battery. Mine is great. I have it on tonight under my shirt for we are not allowed to wear them where they can be seen. So you don’t need to be in a hurry dear girl about starting mine. I would like to have another one though, as most of the boys plan to own two in case of real cold weather. If you don’t want to knit me another sweater, knit me some heavy woolen socks when you get around to it.

Tonight we ate a good supper, pork and beans, ketchup, prunes, bread and coffee and seconds on everything. We all feel satisfied tonight in spite of our hard exercises. I’m not as tired after taking a good cold shower bath as I was last night after a day of loafing. I’ll bet I sleep well tonight. Not a single man who vowed last night to take a shower at five o’clock this morning had the courage or the regard for his word of honor to get up and keep it. A corporal from the drivers’ tent woke us up at five, but every man backed out. It was too cold and the blankets were too warm.

Your loving husband, Clarence

August 8, 1917

Dear Sweet Wife,

A Monitor came tonight, on Monday a Monitor and Sentinel. Thank you for being so thoughtful.

As I walked to the gun park while on guard from four to six this morning, I saw a beautiful sky and viewed rows of tents in the dim morning light. In the west a dreary mist floated over the tent tops. The eastern sky shone with streaks of red just before the sun came up. It was great to watch.

I had the disagreeable task of waking the cooks and the privates detailed to help the cooks. I had all their names and bunk numbers, but some of them were incorrect and I woke the wrong fellows. I got the deuce of course, but I didn’t care a rap. They were too sleepy to remember who it was who mistakenly woke them, so they don’t know who to bear a grudge against. I awoke the first lieutenant at five fifteen according to instructions. At five twenty I noticed he had not arisen so I woke him again, asking if he didn’t want to get up. He said, No I only wanted to be awakened. I thought I was in bad for