"Over There" - Letters from the Front

In honor of the 100th Anniversary of the end of World War I, we have compiled a number of letters submitted to The Rattle during 1918 to provide the collegiate and alumnus brothers of today a glimpse into what it was like to serve “Over There”

The Editor of The Rattle during that time was Percy R. “Tap” Seaman (Gamma/Maine 1908) and he helped to connect the expanding Fraternity and maintain the bonds of brotherhood throughout the War.

"I have been intending for some time to write and tell you something about the trip from good old U. S. A. to the land that boasts of 'Gay Paree.' Our trip across the Atlantic was uneventful as far as submarines and the devices of destruction were concerned and many of the boys were disappointed on this account. The weather, with the exception of one day, was very fine, which added to the enjoyment of the trip. We had boxing exhibitions, tugs of war, obstacle races, and many other forms of sport on the way across which helped to break up the monotony of the trip. I was fortunate enough not to be sea sick so was able to get in on all the sports.

"After spending several days upon the water, we disembarked at a port in England where we entrained for a ride through that country. After traveling several hours through a very picturesque part of the country, we arrived at what was called a rest camp. Why they called it that name I do not know nor was I able to find anyone who was guilty of obtaining any rest. We stayed here housed in tents and sleeping on a thin floor for a few days which gave us a chance to become acquainted with Englishmen and their customs.

"We were all glad when word was given to pack up and prepare to embark for the final dash across the channel to France. Although this last trip on water was but for a few hours, it was the roughest we experienced since leaving home. About everybody on board was more or less sea sick and believe me, we were all glad to set foot on land again.

"We were marched to another rest camp and again found that rest has a very different meaning over here. We stayed over night and the next day entrained again for a ride through France. Here I might say that transportation both in England and in France is much inferior to that in our country. The cars are all of the compartment type and not as comfortable as our corridor cars. To travel a hundred miles in this country takes about as long as the trip from New York to Orono on

our trains.

"We stopped at many places enroute and at each stop we were greeted by crowds of people who cheered us tremendously without the aid of a Joe McCusker. Here and there in the throng could be seen people waving the Stars and Stripes. This was certainly an inspiring sight. At some of the stops we were given hot coffee and bread which was gratefully received. In fact all through France we were made to feel that we were very welcome and that our presence was appreciated. After riding for about eighteen hours we arrived at our destination where we were met by American officers and enlisted men, many of whom we had become acquainted with at home and believe me it was good to see them again. We were transported in auto trucks to the American training camp, assigned to barracks, issued beds and mattresses and looked after in the way Americans are accustomed to be used.

"The camp is very pleasantly situated upon a high plateau overlooking a very pretty surrounding country dotted here and there with small villages. Holly trees are very abundant around the camp and present a very pretty picture. I have had a chance to visit some of the nearby cities and find them very interesting. I wish I could go into detail and tell you all I would like to but owing to censorship I am prohibited from doing so.

"I have been promoted to first sergeant since arriving in France and was offered a chance to attend an artillery training camp for officers but I was also asked to stay with my own outfit and take a chance on getting a commission later. We are training and drilling every day and each day's work hardens us more and more and instills more fighting spirit into us. We are progressing

very rapidly and it will not be long before we will be able to take our places at the front. I am in hopes of seeing you again and telling you about everything here. It is almost time for taps and I have to check up my 'army' so wishing the boys good luck, I remain sincerely yours,

TONY,

101st Trench Mortar Battery."

NEWS OF CAPTAIN F. M. VAN NATTER, RHO.

France,

February 10, 1918,

My Dear DeRoza: I have just located your address. No doubt you had begun to think, or perhaps

finished thinking that I entirely had forgotten the pleasant evening I spent with the "boys" at the New York Alumni Chapter last spring, while I was on duty with the 22nd Infantry, U. S. A., at the Hoboken docks. I assure you it is quite the contrary. I have often thought of you and the "gang," but was unable to remember either your address or that of the Chapter House. Hence my excuse. By the way, before I "proceed on with the windy tale" of how I landed in France, I want to mention to you that there is attached to this epistle a check for one dollar which I want you to forward to the editor of The Rattle for another year's subscription.

Well, all in all, things have been going quite well since I saw you in June. The "big ball' began rolling on May 80th, when I received my first lieutenant's commission, and about a week or so later I was on my way to France. Little did I think during the days when I used to stroll about the labyrinth of rooms and cabins from steerage to the "top of the decks" of the great ship Vaterland, as she lay a captive in the Hoboken docks, that it would be only a short while until I should be sitting on one side of " No Man's Land" gazing on into the birthplace of this monstrous ship. The joyful surprise came to me none too soon. When my commanding officer informed me that I had been selected as one to go with the First Expeditionary Division of American Troops to France, my head puffed out in great proportions to its round size. The thought that I was going to France first made me forget all troubles that I had ever experienced. Well, I "pushed off" on the good ship T--, anyway, she was a dandy-rode the seas quite well, I thought, as I sailed out of Sandy Hook, leaving the Statue of Liberty far in the distance, and the Woolworth building gradually being swallowed up by the misty horizon, I said to myself, half aloud, "So long New York, so long America; this first outfit will never return until it has captured the bacon!”

As I stood there gazing- and musing to myself-watching the transports wheel into line behind us, because my ship was the flag ship, you see it carried a General of the Division-all seemed a dream. I looked about me, I saw many officers and men standing quietly looking around the same dim horizon that I was. Suddenly, I heard the click of heels behind me. I looked around, a message piped out, "Sir, the commanding officer desires the first lieutenant at once to report to him." My dreams exploded and I doubled up in two as if K. O Upon arrival at his office I was informed that it was necessary to keep an officer and four enlisted men up in the crow's nests all

of the time, day and night, to "look out" for submarines, or indicate the direction in which I saw any mysterious thing floating round, and, that furthermore, I was to be one of the officers. My tour was to begin at four o'clock that afternoon. "Gosh," I thought to myself, "that will be great sport." It was. You know the crow's nest is a big box affair, tacked high upon the fore and aft masts for the purpose of giving sailors exercise and training in climbing-but this time I was to be the sailor, and also a "submarine detector." Things went quite well the first time, however, I must confess my heart got so far up in my mouth that I nearly choked. You see, that blooming ladder was a rope affair-32 inches wide at the bottom and tapered off at the top to nothing-which was

some 45 feet high-the last rung being only one and one half inches wide. Then in addition to this I had to "shin" on top----some 25 feet--to the crow's nest; as I say, the first day was fine. The second day the sea became a little heavy and the boat began to "roll"-I had eaten a rather heavy breakfast. While eating I noticed the tables were walking all around me but I "carried on."

I had been in the crow's nest but about 15 minutes when one of my men said, "Lieutenant, I'm sick." The next moment he was heaving all of his breakfast overboard. My stomach was none too stable, so I fell in line. A number of soldiers were down below me, as the old boat swayed from port to starboard, I "spewed forth." It is needless to say the soldiers moved out from below while the little fish laughed and licked their chops with joy as I emptied forth all my breakfast--and all that I had eaten the previous month. Everything was coming up but the moon-and I don't think it was far off!

Well, outside of my sea sickness and a "run in" with a submarine, all went well. (T'he sea was very calm except for one or two days' rough weather. A submarine got frisky and fired at us, but good-naturedly missed us! By the way there was lots of fun aboard that night. When the alarm was given that the ship was almost to be torpedoed many amusing incidents occurred...The submarines were driven away by our destroyers.

Two days after the submarine scare we pulled safely into a French port. I was on watch in the crow's nest at the time. I had the self satisfaction of being the last officer to be on water. About two hours later I went ashore for a few minutes. Later I discovered I had been the third first lieutenant of the American Army to step on French soil. About one hour later my company,

Company L, 28th Infantry, was the third company of American soldiers to land in France-Company K, 28th Infantry being the first, Company I the second, and Company L the third. We did not realize the distinction at that time.

After a few days of rest at the French port we began a "cross country" sight seeing trip to the Western Front. We rode in those funny made up match-box-cans that Empey tells about in his "Over the Top"-and by the way that is a corking good book to read; especially if you are contemplating, or rather, if Uncle Sam is contemplating sending you over here. The fifth chapter

entitled, "Mud, Rats and Trenches," and another chapter, "All Quiet on the Western Front" are very realistic. That book is worth its weight in gold to anyone coming over here. It was written from real experience - the very experience that everyone will have sooner or later after arriving at the Western Front.

I suspect you are beginning to wonder about the things I was doing during the "sight seeing." Well, all the sight seeing consisted of was a speed of about 50 kilometers (about 44 miles) an hour through cities with an occasional halt in the country for ten minutes. They call these "coffee

halts," because it was during this time we were given stuff called coffee. About a few days from the time we started we landed in the training area behind the French lines. The first week or so, the deep rumble of Fritzie's big guns, and the belching of the French guns, disturbed my slumber-but now I can sleep very easily beside a machine gun when "pup-pup-puping" away or even during the amusement of an air raid. As for the trenches, I cannot say they are so very bad. Of course you understand they are not quite so comfortable as the 8X Chapter rooms are-but, nevertheless they are quite fit. The rats and "cooties" (fleas on line) sometimes show themselves. I remember one rat which persisted in winking at me each time I left my dugout. 1 used to strike at him with my cane, but the poor devil was a better dodger than I was batter, so he continued to play his prank.

Fritzie is more of a kidder than the rat I just told you about. One day some of my men "knocked off'' at noon for lunch-they had been repairing some of the front line trench. Couple of the soldiers bad left their mess kits on the parapet and gone down into their dugout. Suddenly "bang" went a couple of Fritzie's shells right on the place where the men had been working. "Blooie," his darn shells tore those men's kits all to pieces and "busted up" the trench, too! Then

my men had to do all their work over again. Fritzie can be darn ungentlemanly when he feels like it. Especially when he thinks he can give us more work to do. These are just a few of the many interesting things that happen constantly.

By the way, before I close I think it might be well to suggest to those brothers who are coming over to provide themselves with the following articles before leaving America:

One pair arctic overshoes, rain coat, sleeveless sweater best, plenty of smoking, "Viscol," for waterproofing leathers, pair of good leather boots, plenty of insignia (if an officer),fountain pen, three pairs of gloves (woolen and leather), and a good French dictionary or grammar, best illuminated dial watch (preferably wrist watch), best illuminated compass, safety razor blades,

pocket medicine set, sewing set (such as pins, thread, etc.)-we call it in the army "housewife," and a trench coat (this is preferable, I think, to a rain coat). All of these articles will be appreciated after arriving in France.

With the best of luck to all the boys, I am,

Fraternally,

F. M. VAN NATTER.
Address:
Captain F. M. Van Natter,
28th Infantry, A. E. F.
WITH THE AMBULANCES.
"Somewhere in the Vosges,"
Where warmth ain't,

December 6, 1917.

Dear Bunch:

Here we are on our way to Berlin town. Well, fellows, been in France four months now

and in action nine weeks. Isn't bad, is it? If my pen seems to waver or the lines get squally, it's only because friend "75" next door is making too much noise and sort of jarring the house-maison, I should say, for the petite poste de secours at the front is wee. I am now seated at a table with a bunch of "laid-up" Frenchmen, wounded, sick and otherwise. The "big boys" bark occasionally, leaving a sort of vacuum in your eardrum and a pain in your head.

Yep, I'm chief crook on Ambulance No. 2, of U. S.A. A. S., 59-592, Amexfo, with the French army, and we were the first ballyhicks of the U. S. Army to get in action. We drive our corpse-carriers, both day and night, from our cantonnement to the different postes at the front for 24 hours or a week. And believe me it's interesting and exciting. So far there have been no casualties in service.

How about dropping me a line? I got a letter from "Babe" a few days ago. Seems good to hear from the old boy. I saw him over here once, you know. I suppose he's back with you now.

Lots of airplanes in France. Mighty interesting. The cold here is raising Hell with the cars but guess we can get through O. K. They are all Fiats and are parked in the open.

Your "old salvager of human wreckage,"
GEORGE F. JONES.
Fraternal regards to all-Long live Upsilon.

MORE NEWS FROM "JERRY" SAWYER

"Somewhere in France,"

February 16, 1917.

Dear Tap:

Received your letter of December 27th tonight and also the ones of Donnie and Bob Hutton;

glad to hear that Bob got a second lieutenant's commission.

Well, Tap, at last I am up where the big noise is, and at times the noise is rather large; after spending a few weeks here one would never jump at the sound of an auto horn at his heels. Am living in a dugout made by the Bosch which was captured from them by the French. It is about 30 feet or so underground and if it wasn't for my steel helmet I would have busted my head several times in getting into my house. There are four of us in here and it is about large enough for one, and when I get back to the States I think I will team up with Houdini, because when it comes to undressing and dressing in our bunks it takes a contortionist to do it. Since I have started writing this letter I have been in about 40 different positions, but one is about as bad as the other and if you are able to make out this writing you are a wonder.

There is plenty of excitement here day and night, especially in the day, between working like the devil and watching for Bosch planes trying to get over the lines to take pictures and various other things, ducking under cover so as not to be seen, and dodging shrapnel, we are kept pretty busy.

Those aviators are certainly daring devils, both Bosch and French, and sometimes I wish that I was an aviator. The other day a Bosch came over and got a French observation balloon, and it came down in a mass of flames. I do not know whether he got back to his lines or not, the

last we saw of him he was going about 150 miles an hour and shells exploding all around him.

From reports next day they got him but one can never believe all the reports, but we all hope they got him anyway. I also saw a French machine come back over the lines with five Germans after him, and believe me they were traveling some, but the Frenchman beat them to it and got away

safe.

This is a great game and I would not miss it for the world, and if I am lucky enough to get out of it with a whole skin it will be a great experience. I was made a corporal this month and have got a dandy squad, all good workers and fine fellows, which makes it good for me, as a corporal's job is a mean job at the best.

Since I have been writing this the big guns have been having a fine time and I would not be surprised if there was something doing before morning. I got The Rattle all right and have read about everything in it, I guess. Well, Tap, I would like to be in Boston tonight and go to some of your old haunts for a rattling good feed; the food here is good but not of very much variety; cannot buy tobacco or cigarettes for love or money. I know I have a lot of them on the way, but God only knows when I will get them or whether I will ever get them or not. I will be all out of luck if I do not get some soon. Saw Tim Bonney, George Dole, George Thompson and Blakney recently; all well and happy as circumstances permit.

Have had fine weather here for the last few weeks, but was quite cold before but nothing compared to what you folks are getting.

Well, Tap, remember me to the boys and write often.

Fraternally yours,

"JERRY."

Excerpts from The Rattle, February 1918:

Letters From Brothers In Service.

NEWS FROM "JERRY" SAWYER, GAMMA, '11

Somewhere in France, December 30, 1917.

Dear Tap :

I received your most welcome letter about ten days ago and would have written sooner, but have been busier than a one-armed paper hanger with the hives, but it is better late than never. I also received The Rattle tonight and have been reading it ever since, and believe me I was some glad to get it, and hear what the fraternity was doing in these troublous times. I noticed in reading over the names of the boys in Uncle Sam's service the name of Brother Bailey, Gamma, '11, was not mentioned. He is in this regiment, Company C. I have seen him a number of times and had some long chats with him. I also saw reeently, Dole, Barnes, Blakney and Thompson, all of Gamma, but I could not locate Lt. Bonney. They were much surprised to see me, as they had no idea that I was in France.

Well, Tap, in regard to my experiences, I cannot say very much, but will say that we had an uneventful trip across the pond, but the grub on board ship was not just exactly what one would order up in a first class hotel, but we all managed to get by with it one way or another. We have traveled about more or less here in France during our course of instruction, and in all cases have been treated very good by the French people, who are glad to see the U. S. troops over here to help them out. Their habits and modes of living are not just what I expected to find, but of course one must consider what they have had to contend with during the last few years. It Is very cold here just at present and we have had to put up with quite a few inconveniences at times, but have managed to get some sleep most every night except one which was spent on board train and the cold was pretty bad but we all came out of it not much the worse by the experience. I have had some pictures taken but we are not allowed to send any photographs, whatsoever.

Just at present I am pretty well supplied with everything I need, but, of course, just at Xmas time we have all received kits of presents but they will soon give out so if you could send me a few cigarettes and some tobacco once in a while they would come in handy.

Well, Tap, I would like to be with you tomorrow night to see the New Year in. I wonder what it will bring forth?

Remember me to all the boys, as ever,

"JERRY."

Excerpts from The Rattle, November 1918:

Letters From "Over There.''

France,

August 20, 1918.

Dear Tap:

Was certainly glad to receive your letter and had intended writing you before but we have been rather busy of late and this is my first real chance to answer all my letters. As you probably have read in all the Boston papers that the 26th Division was to be in the recent drive near Chateau Thierry and I can testify we were very much in it. In fact we bad been in that sector quite a few days before the drive began. We were holding the front of Belleau Woods which the Marines

captured from the Bosche after a desperate fight. It certainly was some sector, in fact the worst this Division has ever been in.

Our front line ran through a wheat field which had not been harvested and was only a series of combat groups, little excavations, one or two feet deep dug into the ground and protected by small groups of infantry and machine guns. In this wheat field it was absolutely necessary

for everyone to keep perfectly quiet for any movement whatsoevet· could be easily seen by enemy avions, which seemed to be able to come over and take a look any time they felt like it. Our positions in this field had to be camouflaged with wheat during the day time to conceal our location from the avions. It was terribly hot those days and to lay out there all day long, not

being able to move about even for sanitary purposes and without water was a hardship in itself.

Water and food had to be sent up from the kitchens three or four miles in the rear, and only during the night, over roads that were constantly shelled by the Bosche. Many times neither food nor water reached the men, for the Bosche had perfect range on these roads. The water and ration carts bad to bring the food and water in and get out again before daybreak. The food often was cold when it reached the men for it bad to be carried by hand in marmites from the ration dump to the front line, a distance of about 1000 meters. This food and water also had to last all the next day, for not even runners could reach the front line by daylight.

We lived in small holes in the ground covered with twigs and bushes, and only protection against weather, and not much against that. No fires could be built during either day or night for fear of observation. The Bosche shelled hell out of those woods and all we could do was to crawl into our holes and hope to God he didn't drop a big one near us. Nevertheless he did many and the result was very disastrous for those poor devils who happened to be near where they landed. Our own batteries pounded away day and night and sleep was something almost unheard of. We lived under those conditions for sixteen days before the order came to attack. On the night before the attack we marched five miles across an open field under constant shell fire, twisting and turning here and there to avoid heavily shelled areas.

We arrived about midnight at our point of departure on the eastern edge of Belleau Woods. We were tired and hungry, but spirit of both men and officers was good. We expected to attack at daybreak but the order did not come down, although we waited all night, over two thousand men bunched together in a small ravine. At two o'clock that afternoon I received a code message over the phone that zero hour was to be three o'clock that very afternoon. Hardly had I started to notify the companies to that effect when the Bosche opened up a

terrific bombardment on this ravine. The first shell landed in front of a hole in the ground I happened to be in and someone let out a terrible groan. One less good "Yank" to go over the top. This shelling lasted almost a half an hour during which time the Bosche just poured

77's, 160's and Austrian 88's into that ravine. That bombardment in itself was certainly demoralizing, for the men had no protection but the open sky whatever. At last we got the men down to the jumping off place and at three o'clock we fonned the battalion for the attack. We had to cross a field of wheat 600 meters across before we got in contact with the Bosche lines and as soon as we advanced the Bosche poured a deadly fire of machine gun bullets into our ranks. Nevertheless, the men went forward with the greatest bravery and soon the Bosche broke for cover and ran. In three days we drove him fifteen miles and freed numerous towns, including Chateau Thierry.

…

I enjoyed "The Rattle" very much, Tap, ·and hope to receive the other issues soon. I saw "Bob" Hutton in Paris. He is a second lieutenant instructing in a school in southern France.

Would like to hear from you any time. Give my best regards to any of the bunch.

Fraternally yours,

1st Lieut. 103rd Inf., A. E. F.

Commanding Co. A.

W. BONNEY

THETA MEN AT FORT SHERIDAN.

13 Co., S. A. T. C. Camp,

Fort Sheridan, Ill., August 22, 1918.

Dear Brother:

Enclosed is a small Picture of the Theta Chi men who were in attendance at the R. O. T. C. Camp at Fort Sheridan from June 3 last to July 3 last. The personal and chapter identification is shown upon the back. There were some four or five whom we were unfortunately unable to include in the group, because of their being on special details at the time. Though we were not successful in our efforts at getting together In a formal way for a banquet, or anything of that nature1 on account of pass limitations, we did have many informal gatherings on the lake shore, and enjoyed very much the occasions at which we were able to acquaint ourselves with our brothers from the four chapters represented at the camp, Agricultural College of No. Dakota, University of Illinois, University of Wisconsin, and Alabama Polytechnic Institute. These four chapters had a representation of 28 men here.

Our experiences at the R. O. T. C. camp were much the same as those of our brothers who have been in the regular officers' Training Schools. The schedule called for a strenuous month under the strictest military discipline. Our day began with "Reveille" at 6 A. M. and ended with "Taps" at 9.30 P. M. We had instruction In virtually every phase of modern military training, including bayonet work, infantry drill, problems in the service of security and information, the study of the manual of interior guard duty, target practice, extended order, grenade throwing,

tent pitching, the making of light and heavy packs, nomenclature of the rifte, military courtesy, personal hygiene, etc.

Perhaps some of the most interesting experiences were the night marches through the trenches, and the daytime study of their construction, layout and occupation. Withal, we had a very complete instruction in such essential elements of military training as would enable us to do our unit next year in our colleges in instructing the other fellows in the art of defeating the Bosche of Berlin.

It is needless to remark upon the spirit of the students at the camp-it was superb. They devoted themselves with earnestness and diligence to their work, and their spirit was at all times that of college fellows at an earnest, patriotic duty. It constituted what is termed among troops in battle, ”morale." In the student corps, the Theta Chi men more than held their own in the company officerships. We had a number of them who at various times acted in the capacity of captains. In fact, there were three Theta Chi's who were company captains in my own company.

A total of 10mething like 3200 men were in attendance at the camp, constituting a full regiment of four battalions. A number of Theta Chi men remained over from the R. O. T. C. camp to the S. A. T. C. Camp, July 18 to Sept. 16, and it is probable that a number of them will receive commission direct at the termination. Our arrangements are practically completed now for a banquet of Thetas at the La Salle hotel during the latter part of the camp.

To our brothers in the service at the front, we would say that we are now preparing ourselves to be with them soon in the conflict, and expect to sacrifice ourselves, if it so chances in the spirit of our fraternity and in accordance with its proud military traditions.

With kindest regards, I am,

Yours fraternally,

A. S. LISENBY.

MAINE BOY GETS COVETED DECORATION.

BRUNSWICK, June 29. Lieutenant Robert G. Hutton, former Hebron and University of Maine pole jumper, and later a bond balesman for the firm of A. B. Leach & Co., of Boston, is the latest Brunswick boy to win a Croix de Guerre, the French cross. Lieutenant Hutton, In a letter to his sister, Miss B. H. Hutton, a Brunswick school teacher, modestly tells the way in which he won the coveted decoration:

“About 10 o'clock on the night of May 22, Major Cormack and three American lieutenants, including Hutton, volunteered to join 25 French officers and men of the 67th infantry in a raid to go over the top in No Man's Land, with a plan of making their way through Bosche barbed wire entanglements and into the trenches for the purpose or securing prisoners. Two hundred yard from the French they came upon a road adjoining to No Man's Land.

They had gone 65 yards beyond that when the bullets began to snap around them. Every man dropped to the ground and lay there until the fire slackened, when they made their way back to the place which ran parallel to the road they had just crossed. The men had just made the ditch when the Germans opened fire again and "it sounded as if it were hell itself let loose. Lieutenant Cossi- of the French regiment dropped into the ditch and said that Ma or Cormack was wounded.”

Beyond that Lieutenant Rutten did not write, but enclosed a copy of citation given him by Lieutenant-Colonel Jungbluth, who was in command of the 67th Regiment.

From this citation, which is in French, it is learned that Lieutenant Hutton raced back over No Man's Land to where the Major lay, picked him up and brought him back within the French lines under the fire of the enemy. He received the Croix de Guerre on May 22. Lieutenant Hutton did not receive a scratch during the fray, but Major Cormack was shot through both legs.

Excerpts from The Rattle, February 1919

With the Army of Occupation.

Beudorf am Rhein,

Dec. 15, 1918.

Dear Tap: I received your letter some time ago but have had very little time to answer it. For six or seven weeks before the armistice we had just about all we could stand and since then we have marched many weary kilometers. I didn't carry a pack either. On November 17, we pulled out of Pouilly, which is just north of the Meuse, at a point where we crossed it the morning the armistice was signed. We built a bridge at this town crossing the Meuse while we were being

re-equipped and giving the Germans the five days' start they were supposed to get. We crossed into Belgium on the afternoon of the 18th and into Luxembourg on the 21st. Another day's march brought us to the centre of <this country where we stayed till 3 P. M., November 30th when we started again. We crossed the German border December 1st and. reached the Rhine on

the 9th, after seeing some wonderful scenery. I would have enjoyed it more if my legs had not been so tired.

I am surprised to see how well the people treat us here. The most of them seem really glad to see us. I think they are afraid of trouble similar to that in Russia, and are looking to us for protection. The towns, as a rule, are cleaner and more prosperous than those in France and there seems to be plenty to eat with the exception of certain articles, such as meats, cheese, butter,

milk and eggs. We have just received an order forbidding us to buy meat, bread or fats, so I suppose that actually there must be a shortage.

Of course the most important thing of all to us now is that of when we will be sent home. We all hope they will relieve this division by another and let us go, but that seems hardly probable. Now that the excitement is over, or seems to be, everyone is anxious to get back. Very likely, though, it will be several months before we sail, C'est le guerre.

I have seen no newspapers for three months weeks I mean-so have no knowledge of what is going on in America, or Europe for that matter. Have not heard from "Jerry" since I wrote you last. Expect to be able to talk to you soon anyway.

Fraternally,

G. R. KNIGHT,

1st Lt., Eng'rs, U. S. A.

Paignton, England,

October 22, 1918.

Dear Brothers in Theta Chi: I have been very lax in my correspondence with the old Fraternity but think you might be glad to hear from me.

I was with the old 27th Division while they were in training at Camp Wadsworth, S. C., and came across in May with the 108th Infantry Regiment. In July I was assigned to the 105th Infantry, .and have been intelligence officer of the 2nd Bn. I was wounded in the knee in Flanders in August and in an engagement on the 30th of September, got a little too much gas-thus my address over here in Blighty.

I have had no chance to get to Paris being possibly as much disappointed as our friend Wilhelm in that respect, so, of course, have had no opportunity of running across any Theta Chi men.

However, if I do get there I shall make it a point to go to the University Club and look some of them up.

My brother Alex, Cornell, '14, was in the ground school at Princeton the last I heard of him, but probably he has kept you better informed of his wanderings than have I. I expect there are no Theta Chi men with you now who will recall me, but my interest in the old Fraternity remains just as keen as when I was there in the university. If there are any who remember me, I wish to be remembered to them, but most of all I want to say hello to the new men who I know are carrying on the spirit of the old house through these lean years.

My regards and truest wishes for your success and that of Theta Chi.

Fraternally,

L. H. DAVIS, Lambda, '16.