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The following contributions were sent to the Bulletin by Sherman L. Conklin, S. S. U. 635 (old 17) on the day he was killed. They were probably the last things that he wrote. Readers of the Bulletin will recall Conklin's poems entitled "A Military Graveyard" and "Dawn" which appeared in the May 18th number, together with a playful article upon "The Essence Gatherer", which he also wrote for this paper.


When age has dimmed the swift, clear glow
Of sacrificial youth,
And we look back, chagrinned to know
How much we've spent for truth,
(For age may dim the swift, clear glow
Of sacrificial youth.)
When we are tired and gray and old,
Laggard of mind and will,
And all young dreams shall find us cold
While all our lives are still,
(For we are tired and gray and old,
Laggard of mind and will),
Swift may the Messenger be sped
To chill our bodies, for we're dead.

S. S. U. 635 (old 17).



Abner McAdams, may his tribe increase,
Awoke one morning from dreaming of Cerise,
And saw a sargeant standing with a book,
Conning the names therein with righteous look.
Exceeding sleep had made McAdams bold,
So, as in bed luxuriously he rolled,
He spoke, "Oh, Sarge what means this look of woe.
It's hard you have to spoil your beauty so.
The sargeant spake, "Ab. I regret to say
That you should rise to greet the joyous day.
This little book contains, as you shall ken,
The names of those who serve their fellow men.
It's K. P. service detail.. Look and see
The gentle news I'm sent to break to thee.
Abner arose and cursed the world and dressed
For lo, McAdams' name led all the rest!

S. S. U. 635 (old 17).



We're sick of your harps and your haloes, of your well-kept heavenly[things,
Of your roads without even a shell-hole (we'll he damned if we'll use your wings.
We're sick and tired of smoking when cigarettes flow so free
That we throw the butts half-burnt beside your Pearly Sea.
We know that we died like heroes for the lives of the men who fell,
But that's no smitten reason why we have to grow fat as hell!
Say, give us the ghost of an ambulance and let us drive away
Somewhere, where there's an angel-fight, and .here, by the Lord, we'll stay.

S. S. U. 635 (old 17)


S.S.U. 635 (old 17)

Since the last time that we burst into the blooming press the section has been cited, and almost crowned. So let us to the first, the most agreeable by far.

One day the section was drawn up in an approximately straight line, enough in itself to show that something was to happen. It did. We were cited.

As to our being almost crowned, I must bow before the mandates of that most honorable man, the censor. But as Shakespeare says, "Gee, it was grand".

Our 1st Sergeant Richards received his personal citation the other day for his fine work in the same action which earned the section its second Croix de guerre. Throughout that time of hard work, Richards took over the duties of our mechanic, out with a broken arm, in addition to his regular duties as sergeant. It was due to Richards that the cars could be kept running for the work, and the section is mighty glad that his service has been officially recognized.

But ye gentle scribe has troubles of his own in writing this screed. Try to write a bright, humorous, swivel-chaired, voluminous account of your playmates yourself, when the so-called gentleman next you is smoking French tobacco in a pipe that had a misspent youth in a fertilizer factory, while nearby the section phonograph is braying out the succulent melodies of "I'd Feel at Home if They Let me join the Army." I'm going to quit quick.

We wish to express our sympathy with those sections who have been hard hit by recent developments. All honor to those who never faltered in their duty in the face of danger, and to those whom death found unafraid. Their memory shall be an inspiration in the future as their work has been in the past. Vale.

S. L. Conklin, S. S. U. 633. (old 17).

Sherman L. Conklin was killed by a shell in the Forest of Villers-Cotterets on June 14th, 1918, the day on which the above was written.



All old Field Service men now members of U. S. A. A. S. with the French army, are pleased by the promotion of the chief of that service, Percy L. Jones to a full Colonelcy. He has won their unanimous regard and respect. Under his leadership the American ambulance sections serving with French divisions which in the unofficial volunteer days numbered only thirty four, have now been doubled in number, and many new sections are now being organized to serve with the American troops. The Bulletin in the name of all of the old Field Service Ambulance drivers, takes this opportunity of expressing to Colonel Jones its satisfaction and congratulations..


S. S. U. 640 (old 28)

Formée en majeure partie d'anciens volontaires, énergiquement commandée par le Lieutenant Archie B. Gile de l'Armée Américaine, et par le Sous-Lieutenant Jeancourt-Galignani, de l'Armée Française, la S. S. U./640 s'est dépensée sans compter depuis plus d'un an pour relever les blessés de la Division, au milieu des bombardements les plus violents, à travers les incendies, et dans les circonstances les plus difficiles qu'ait traversées la Division, en faisant preuve du plus noble esprit de devoir et de mépris du danger.

A redoublé d'efforts au cours de la bataille actuelle, chacun des officiers, sous-officiers et des hommes payant d'exemple sans arrêt, nuit et jour.

P. A. Le chef d'Etat-Major,
Signé: FRECOT.

Le Général Commandant la 134e Div. Inf.
Signé : PETIT.


S. S. U. 629 (old 9)

Several men of S. S U. 629 have been cited in the Divisional and Regimental Orders of the French army. Their names and a translation of the citations follow:

Machado, John Z., Sergeant 1st Class. --- Non-commissioned officer who showing great disregard of danger during the night under violent bombardment personally assured the salvage of cars abandoned during the day which were exposed to the fire of the enemy.

Carlisle, Averill D., Sergeant. --- Non-commissioned, officer who with devotion equalling his courage, for five nights personally directed a squad of volunteers who repaired a road exposed to the constant fire of the enemy.


Davenport, Russell, W., Private 1st Class. --- Picked for a duty particularly dangerous demanded to execute it a second time, completing his task with great bravery in a zone violently shelled by the enemy artillery.

Golding, John E., Private 1st Class. --- Voluntarily completed the reparation of a road exposed to violent nightly bombardment and also contributed to the salvage of a car abandoned in full view of the enemy.

Greene, Alexander M., Corporal. --- During a year's service in the section volunteered for all perilous tasks and also for several nights aided in the reparation of roads continually struck by shells, thus permitting the speedy evacuation of the wounded.


S. S. U. 635 (old 17)

«La Section Sanitaire Automobile 635, sous les ordres du Lieutenant de Joly et du Lieutenant Neftel :

«Pendant tout le cours des opérations et plus particulièrement pendant les journées des 4 et 5 avril 1918, a de nuit et de jour, assuré sous le feu avec un dévouement infatigable et un mépris absolu de danger, le transport et l'évacuation des blessés des premières lignes.

« Le 1 Sergeant américain Richards, William, chef mécanicien à la Section Sanitaire Automobile Américaine N° 635.

«Assure avec dévouement et courage, sous de violents bombardements au cours des journées des 4, 5 et 6 avril 1918, l'entretien et la réparation du matériel qui lui était confié. Blessé par éclat d'obus, a néanmoins continué à assurer son service. »


S. S. U. 625 (old 1)

The Commander-in-Chief, A. E. F., has written letters of commendation to three soldiers or the A. E. F. (all three are members of old S. S. 1) as follows, for exploits as set forth below:

"I have heard with great pleasure of your fine conduct. The soldierly qualities exhibited by you on this occasion are admired throughout the command.

"Private 1st Class Mark V. Brennan, when the village of Seicheprey and the poste de secours had been captured, offered to take a replacing doctor up there ; also helped with stretcher-bearer work under heavy shell-fire, in addition to showing great coolness and bravery in his regular work during the three days of heavy action, April 19-22, 1918.

"Private 1st Class Edward A. G. Wylie, though his car was hit in several places, and he himself sick from gas, begged, after receiving treatment, to remain at his work, though offered relief, and acquitted himself with exceptional gallantry during the fighting around Seicheprey, April 19-22, 1915.

"Private 1st Class Harold E. Purdy. --- Loaned temporarily with his auto to the American Division next to our French Division --- volunteered to do stretcherbearer work under heavy fire, bringing both wounded and dead when the regular stretcherbearers were not available, acquitted himself with conspicuous bravery during the three days' fighting around Seicheprey, April 19-22, 1918."



M. Jack Philippe, the aviation correspondent of the "Petit Journal" gives the following story of how Sergeant Baylies came to be posted as missing.

«On June 17 he left on patrol duty with Sergeant Dubonnet (vanquisher of four Germans) and Sergeant Macari. The trio of "storks" had been flying for more than an hour and, darkness approaching, were preparing to turn back home, when four German monoplaces were sighted flying at a higher altitude. These were at first mistaken for British machines, until they swooped down to attack, and then a thrilling fight ensued.

Baylies was defending himself with his usual intrepidity and was trying to get into position to take the offensive, when his aeroplane caught fire. Fie was then ten kilomètres inside the German lines.

Sergeant Macari thinks it is possible that he came down safely and escaped the flames ».

Frank L. Baylies, whose home was in New Bedford, Massachusetts, was 22 years old and came as volunteer to the American Field Service in February, 1916. In March he went out with Section 1 remaining until November when he volunteered to go with Section 3 to the Orient. He returned after serving six months there and joined the Lafayette Esquadrille.

While in the American Field Service he was decorated with the croix de guerre.



Donald Asa Bigelow has been reported as killed in an aviation accident in France. He entered the American Field Service March 12, 1917, going out with S. S. U. 17 in April and left the Service on August 30 to become 1st Lieut. in U. S. Air Service. He was 20 years old and his home was in Boston, Massachusetts.

Alan Hammond Nichols of Palo Alto, California, was wounded in the abdomen in an air fight, died in a hospital at Compiègne and was buried at Royalieu: with military honors. He joined the American Field Service on February 14th, 1917, going out with Section 14 in March, and left July 23rd to go into Aviation. He was 21 years old and a Stanford University man.

W. K. Bond Emerson of New-York City was killed in an aviation accident on May 14th, at the age of 24. He joined the American Field Service early in 1915 and was a member of Section 3 during its active work in Alsace and the Vosges at the end of that year. He returned to the U. S. but rejoined the service early in 1917, going out with Section 13 only to volunteer a month later to go to the Balkans and rejoin his old Section. He was appointed later sous-chef of the Section and returned in November to accept a commission as 1st Lieut. in the U. S. Field Artillery. He was doing observing work at the time of his death. He had received the Croix de guerre while a member of the number of the American Field Service.



From the French Artillery School at Fontainebleau on the 15th of June 1918 there were graduated two Brigades made up entirely of Americans. This is something unusual in a French Artillery School and is in fact without precedent.

The Group which graduated on June 15th comprised fifteen Brigades, of which the 5e Brigade and 5e bis Brigade were Americans. They took the three months course which is usually given to sous-officiers and this was followed by a month of special work, such as extra lessons in French and practical work as, being Americans, they had naturally not studied French Army regulations and manoeuvres,

Both Brigades compared very favorably in competition with the French Brigades. Among the Group of 180 men were twenty nine former members of the American Field Service. Two of these obtained the highest rank in the whole group. They were Benjamin Carpenter, T. M. U. 135, and Kenneth Gaston, S. S. U. 30, both of Harvard University. The rest of the Americans made a very creditable showing.

The majority of them have gone into field artillery, while a few have chosen heavy artillery both artillery "à tracteurs" and heavy artillery drawn by horses, Some have gone into French Tanks and other are going to become aerial artillery observers.

The American Field Service men graduated are as follows:

William M. Barber S.S.U. 3 J. E. G. Fravell S.S.U. 64
Charles Bayly S.S.U. 26 Kenneth Gaston S.S.U. 30
Benjamin Carpenter T.M.U. 133 Hayden Goodspeed S.S.U. 30
J. D. Hutchinson S.S.U. 30 B. W. Saunders S.S.U. 65
F. H. Herrington S.S.U. 33 Charles Schlager S.S.U. 31
Francis T. Henderson T.M.U. 526 Louis Schneider S.S.U. 31
T. P. Lane T.M.U. 133 H. F. Simon S.S.U. 66.
Thomas F. McAllister S.S.U. 69 G. H. Sudbury S.S.U. 4
Arthur L. Partridge T.M.U. 526 William C. Towle S.S.U. 70
Edward J. Phelps S.S.U. 26 T. J. Walker T.M.U. 133
John F. Howe T.M.U. 133 R. C. Wells S.S.U. 70
R. L. Smyth T.M.U. 133 J. F. Wolf S.S.U. 8
Erwin L. Egger S.S.U. 13 R. W. Wood S.S.U. 9 and 10
J. M. Daily S.S.U. 64 H. B. Allen T.M.U. 526
F. G. Elwell S.S.U. 66    



Lawrence D. Higgins T.M.U. 133 Cadet, A. S. S. C. 496th Aero Squadron A. E. F.
Julian Howe Vosges Det. 90th Brigade Artillery, Ecole d'Artillerie Fountainebleau.
Robert Whitney S.S.U. 68 1st Lieut. 3rd Aviation Instruction Center, A. E. F.
Harold S. Cave T.M.U. 133 Radio Naval Training School, Newport, R.I.
T. P. Lane T.M.U. 133 Ecole Militaire Arcis-s/Aube.
Francis T. Henderson T.M.U. 526 61e Regt. d'Artillerie (French Army).
R. L. Smyth T.M.U. 133 61e Regt. d'Artillerie (French Army).
John F. Howe T.M.U. 133 260e Regt. d'Artillerie de Campagne (French Army).
Erwin L. Egger S.S.U. 13 Ecole Militaire, Arcis-s/Aube.
Harold L. Humphreys S.S.U 66 Pvt. 1st cl. 4th O. T. S. Field Artillery, U. S. A.
William C. Towle S.S.U. 70 1er Regt. d'Artillerie (French Army).
J. D. Hutchinson S.S.U. 30 500e Regt. d'Artillerie d'Assaut (French Army).



J. N. Nazel (S.S.U. 17) was slightly wounded by a shell on June 14th.


Duncan O. Welty (T.M.U. 526) who has just finished his six months engagement with the A. R. C. in the Italian Ambulance Service, left Paris recently on his way to America.

B. Emmet Hartnett (T.M.U. 397) and Allan L. G. Jensen (T.M.U. 133) are also en route for America.


Cyrus Leroy Baldridge (T.M.U. 184) was the last American of the old American Field Service who served with the French Army, drawing French Army rations. When the T. M. U. sections were enlisted by the U. S. Army he was asked by Captain Mallet to stay and, work in the French Army which he did until recently when he joined the U. S. Army as a private in the infantry, unattached, as an artist for the U. S. A. He has formerly worked for Scribner's Magazine and Leslie's Weekend.


Please send all material for the FOURTH OF JULY NUMBER of the Bulletin as soon as possible.



J. D. Hutchinson (S.S.U. 30) Aspirant French Artillery ; Edward S. Storer (S.S.U. 13) U. S. A. A. S. ; John F. Howe (T.M.U. 133) Aspirant French Artillery ; Benjamin Carpenter (T.M.U. 133) Aspirant French Artillery ; Paul Squibb (S.S.U. 30) U. S. Artillery; T. P. Lane (T.M.U. 133) Aspirant French Artillery ; Francis T. Henderson (T.M.U. 526) Aspirant-French Artillery ; R. L. Smyth (T.M.U. 133) Aspirant French Artillery ; William C. Towle (S.S.U. 70) Aspirant French Artillery ; William M. Barber (S.S.U. 3) Aspirant French Artillery ; Robert Wood (S.S.U. 9 and 10) Aspirant French Artillery ; H. J. Kelleher (S.S.U. 12 and 3) U. S. A. A. S.; H. H. Howard (T.M.U. 133) American Fund for French Wounded; Henry G. Iselin (S.S.U. 4) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A. S. ; Horace Simon (S.S.U. 66) Aspirant French Artillerie; Joseph Azarian (T.M.U. 133) Y. M. C. A. ; James Lewis (S.S.U. 16) U. S. A. A. S. ; Donald K. Miller (T.M.U. 397) Q. M. Corps; Edwin R. Baldridge (S.S.U. 2) U. S. A. A. S. ; Lowell Downes (T.M.U. 526) Signal Corps Air Service ; A. E. Hazeldine (S.S.U. 68) U. S. A. A. S. ; B. K. Neftel (S.S.U. 17) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A. S



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Fourth of July --- across distant seas the home clans gather at every place;
Compatriots --- Americans all --- they pledge to the founders of our race; ,
In far-off France we too, old man, will lift our glasses high

To the Land of our fathers in days of yore,
To the Land seeming dearer than ever before
And then to dream, on our billetted floor,
A dream that will never die.

Fourth of July---another year and once again for freedom---on all the earth
Our flag's unfurled --- we fight as our fathers for the land of our birth;
So here in France, afar from home, we'll pledge with smiling eye

The Land giving freely the all of her youth---
To the cause of humanity --- freedom and truth
And then to dream, 'neath some dugout roof,
A dream that will never die,

W. ROY CORNISH, S. S. U. 636 (old 18)
At the Front.



Why do we fight, we from a distant shore,
Removed, contained, scarce touched by all the strife,
Far from the thunders of a foreign war,
Who might in peace have followed all our life?
Our debt to France ? --- incurred in times of old,
Graced by the workings of a despot king?---
Rochambeau, Lafayette, we oft are told ;
Our bell of freedom which they helped to ring---
No, none of these forget the ancient score ;
A greater thing : ---For France today, we fight,
Our living debt to France is even more,
Her struggling battle is our cause of right.
For fine-souled France, a star too bright to go,
We come to battle back the tyrant foe!

L. W. --- S. S. U. 636 (old 18).



Thou shalt be born anew O France
When thoughts of mail's diviner self advance,
When free from carnage, war and pain
Thy nation's spirit shall arise again.
A band of poets, statesmen, seers,
Shall honor thee O! France thru coming years.

(formerly S. S. U. 68).



There was a review a month back in the afternoon, when the sun was out and red leaves were on the big trees or fluttering down from them as the review on the plain beyond our town was finished. Then the regiment marched down our street with band playing and officers stiff on their horses. There was a vigorous swing to the poilus' shoulders and strength in their faces. Their French flag was a bit torn, but it was crusted with the names, in gold, of their battles, and a Croix de Guerre and a Médaille militaire nestled in its folds by the staff. We saluted as it passed, while the sun caught it and the tri-color flamed, when, all in an instant, one understood why men tossed away their lives for France, it seemed the logical thing to do, the only thing; and I was glad those colors belonged to us, too, glad that even one so humble as I was of the Armée Française.

But why should a banner, a mere bit of silk, choke one's throat so? Perhaps because no French flag is a "mere bit of silk." It is a bit of free blue sky and of searing white pain and the red of man's rich blood. It is a hymn and a pledge, a wreath, a sword, a cross, a soul. And a part of that French soul is in the heart of every poilu, and, please, God, will seep into our American hearts who have watched France fight, and who fight today standing on French ground.

J. W. D. SEYMOUR (S. S. U. 17).



This is America's day ; not the Day Germany boasted.
Proud in your many inventions, little did you divine,
Little you thought, you Prussians, when you clinked your glasses and toasted
That it was blood you were drinking, blood, red blood, not wine.
Well, you have had your daytime ; now you have come to twilight.
America's sun is rising ; Liberty's flag is unfurled
While the hope of the Hohenzollerns fades into deep, dark night.
From the other edge of the ocean comes the light, the hope of the world
(Bright with the glow of God's altar fires comes the one last hope of the world).


We do not glory in warfare, we come to avenge, not destroy,
But the red rape of Belgium, the ruin of France are things we have seen, and know.
Time was, in the days of knights and squires, that War was a daughter of joy
Clad in velvet and cloth of gold, leading men on to woe.
But now we can see the rouge on her cheeks, and her eyes are hard and hollow.
She has ruined men since the start of time and now, like Time, is old.
We others are disillusioned, but the Huns, they blindly follow
For she says that, she has sisters three --- Fame, and Might, and Gold.
(Land of Schiller and Luther, for these is your birthright sold!)


God knows that we, if the choice were ours, and the task we are at were ended
Would hie ourselves madly, gladly, home and begin to fulfil the rapturous dream
Which comes to us now and then at night, with a bloody horror blended
(Ah God, were it not for such visions, 'twould be hard to follow the gleam)
What dream, say you? You've had it, or will... A cosy chair by a fireplace
After a good, hard day. Your dog, with his head on his paws,
Lying there snoozing beside you, his faithful face raised to your face..
And a little love and laughter, and that for you others' applause!
(A face you love, the touch of a hand, and that for you others' applause!)


Such is the dream, and after all, it is just for that we are fighting,
Just for that we are spending the flaming years of our youth ---
Spending, but never wasting, for where there's a wrong that needs righting
Who cares what the price may be, so long as it's paid for truth?
....At home, thank God, there is laughter --- a little, not much, but enough
Laughter, with tears hid behind it, not common unfeeling mirth.
Laughter and love, with such things as these, can any road be rough?
Though it lead to death in a lone drear place, afar from the land of our birth.
(Loving laughter and laughing love, (if these, at least, there's no dearth!)


Then hasten, America's armies, come, come swift o'er the ocean lanes
Braving the spying submarine, and the cowardly floating mine,
Come from our purple mountains, come from our greening plains,
Come from out grain-fat meadows, from our forests of spruce and pine,
Come, and coming, sing, the song of freer and freed
Marching in myriad columns, oncoming millions of might
Proud of our independence, come now to prove our creed!
What can withstand, what oppose us, the radiant ranks of right?
Purged in the glow of God's altar fires, immortal legions of light!

Paul M. FULCHER, S. S. U. 631 -13.


The real, American celebration of July 4, 1917 in France did not occur in Paris, but in the camps of the ambulanciers and transport drivers of the American Field Service who were, at the time, the only organized American forces at the front. Many of these groups were small and some very busy, but their celebration of Independence Day will not be forgotten by any who shared them and the description of one of these festivities is a fair sample of them all.

Credit for this celebration must be given chiefly to Captain Genin, our French commander, a jolly good fellow, and one greatly interested in American customs.

All during June he had been hearing about nothing except the Fourth of July. At last he decided that, at his own expense, we were to have a Fourth that should surpass those we had known in the States. And after that, day by day, various articles kept arriving in the camp --- live rabbits, narrow gauge tracks, crates labelled "Champagne", cigarettes, flower-pots, about all of which there was some mystery and a great deal of speculation.

The program of the day itself began, of course, with a review which was hardly much different from some peace time reviews in the States. The ten sections present were in the bad humor common to troops on inspection, and there was some cause too, for every camion in Jouaignes had been on the road from five in the morning until eight the night before, while even after that there had been a great deal of cleaning and oiling to do in preparation for the rigid inspection that would be sure to come the next morning.

Nevertheless it was with a feeling of expectancy that the members of our group were notified at a roll call at six o'clock the morning of the Fourth of the program of the day's events, and, half all hour later, our section, under our American chef, was marching towards the parade field a mile away.

This field was the meeting-place of continually streaming groups of American transport drivers. The nearer one got to it, the more comrades one met, headed for the same destination, cheerfully ignoring the dust, and thinking and remembering only "This is the Fourth of July." Section after section marched through the little gate into the field and arranged themselves in formation for review. A sharp "gardez-vous" rang out and Captain Mallet, head of Mallet's Reserve of American Camion Drivers, entered the field, whereupon a square was formed, --- of which three sides were Americans and one side Frenchmen. Why the Frenchmen were there we were to find out later.

The American flag was waving proudly in the breeze, borne by a color-bearer, who shared with every American there a thrill of patriotism as each passing French officier paused to give the emblem a graceful salute.

The ceremonies began by Captain Mallet calling for the Croix de Guerre candidates to come forward. So forward they came, three sunbeaten, war-worn French camion drivers, the youngest of whom. must have been forty-five. Straight and erect they marched from their ranks and faced Captain Mallet, whom they saluted and the ceremony of presentation began.

The citations for their deeds of bravery were read in French and the medals pinned on the proud-eyed veterans, with a warm handshake from Captain Mallet, and more from every officer, French and American, whom they passed on the way back to ranks. Then came some well chosen remarks by Captain Mallet, his simple, dignified English appealing to every hearer. Not an eye but shone a little brighter, not a chin but was tilted a little higher, after these inspiring words. Captain Mallet, then and there, won the heart and hand of every American who heard him.

Then came the review by Captain Mallet. To the time of an Algerian drum corps, the only music of the occasion, column after column of shining helmets and red faces passed by the reviewing stand at "eyes right". What those dark faced musicians were playing, nobody knew, but it was to the tune of "Yankee Doodle" and "Dixie" that those American feet kept time. In the middle of the long Khaki lines came the color squad and the Stars and Stripes, which as it passed, the French officers stood and saluted, as the dust-covered lines passed through the gate, bound for their camps.

And all of the time, to remind its of the business, we were about, aeroplanes passed over us on their way to and from the front, while a little to the north, one could see the sausage balloons whose business it is to make sure that nothing goes unobserved in the German trenches.

Such an afternoon as we spent, however, would be encountered nowhere except at the French front, and at no time except the present. After dejeuner, we found that a mixture of races more varied than the population of Paris before the war had taken possession of the camp. There were English, Tunisians, Moroccans, Algerians, Senegalese, French of all varieties, and Scotch nurses from a hospital nearby. Spain and Switzerland were represented among the camp mechanics, while I hear that a few yellow Annamites happened in to complete the picture. There was no time lost in mere staring, either, for the buglers of a Spahi band from Tunis immediately twirled their curved horns like a lightning flash and struck up a regimental tune. Even this was cosmopolitan consisting of a conventional European phrase repeated twice by the bugles, and answered by a burst of Arab melody from the strange wooden pipes carried by the rest of the band.

After a concert of some half an hour, the games commenced. Now we discovered the use of the narrow gauge railway. It was to serve as a tilting course in a game which, with obvious modifications, has survived since the Middle Ages. One mounted the push-cart which replaced the indispensable Norman charger of knightly tourneys, and coasted down the track. In his course he aimed a lance --- a fishing pole, if you like it --- at nothing grander than a hole in a board. If he should succeed, he received a bottle of champagne ; if he failed, a bucket of water tipped over on him.

We tried, most of us, and got a ducking for our pains. After us Captain Genin made the attempt, and failed also. But at this point, some of the Berbers entered the game. They had been brought up in a state of society in which handling the lance was as indispensable a gentlemanly accomplishment as bridge is with us. And out of the proficiency thus acquired, they received some honor and a great deal of champagne.

After that there was another game which involved being blindfolded and swinging with a baseball at concealed flower-pots. These, when broken, would be found to contain the live rabbits we had seen, or ducks, or anything else the camp ingenuity had provided.

When the last pot had been broken, another Spahi band struck up an even wilder tune. A circle was formed as soon as the music had begun, around a tall turbaned Arab, who was twisting himself about a red bandanna stretched on the ground,. At first some disagreement arose as to whether his performance should be called The Dance of the Sacred Veil or The Dance of the Dirty Handkerchief. We stopped scoffing after a while, however, and watched with a kind of childish wonder the set look on his face as he circled about. Finally the curious rhythm of the drums and the wailing flutes, and the hot sun finished by making us believe that we were in the scorching square of some North African town. That impression was heightened by the later dances. Lithe Berbers hurled French army rifles high into the air and caught them without losing time with the drums. Then there were sword dances in which two simulated opponents whirled yataghans about their heads.

Afterwards I talked with some of the Tunisians. They had little respect for any Germans. "Yes ", they said, "the Germans are brave enough to crouch in dugouts under shell-fire. But when we come after them, they are cowards. They run away or shout 'Kamerad, Kamerad'. Bah! Boches no camerades with us." As one remembered the sword dances, it seemed hardly surprising that the Germans were cowards before these outlandish warriors.

Shortly afterwards a baseball game began which must have seemed as bizarre to the Arabs as their dances were to us. About the fourth inning of the game, fencing started in as a counter attraction, and charmed away, one must confess, almost everybody, except the Americans. In this our own French Lieutenant Chalos vanquished all comers. By seven we had all piled our mess kits about improvised tables and were waiting for the dinner.

M. Bousquet, the camp chef, was reputed to have officiated in many kitchens, including those of the Duke of Luxembourg. Yet however great the number of feasts he had prepared, he surely never encountered one stranger than this. A wonderful salad was served up in a dishpan and eaten off dirty tin plates. The meats were roast capon and a filet with mushrooms ; the only bread was the hard dry pain des armées. Pinard, a euphemism for the cheapest, sourest wine existing --- alternated with old Muscat and Moët et Chandon. Then all the time there was boisterous jesting, and dogs that stood around the tables ready to snap up any spare morsels, until by dint of so many contrasts and so much hearty jollity, everything assumed a truly medieval tone. One rather missed torchlight and smoky rafters. Except for that, it was easy to imagine, looking down the long, littered tables, that one was present at a banquet in some Norman castle when Edward III was king. Always, however, when the laughter died down for a moment, the guns that were defending Craonne or Moulin de Laffany, would down the lesser clatter of the tinware.

After the plates were scraped clean ---for once we did not have to wash them --- the French force---cooks, mechanics, clerks, wounded for the most part in the trenches, took possession of the tables and the remnant of the pinard. Then followed another celebration, a truly French celebration, which lasted most of the short summer night, during the course of which regimental songs were sung, including the now famous chant of the Foreign Legion, and during which many speeches were made about "les jeunes Américains"--- and "la victoire qui viendra." American ragtime had a fraternal share, too, and many ludicrous attempts were made to translate it into French. Then there were more speeches, and a great deal of handshaking, and laughter --- always laughter. About two we most of us crawled off to bed, quite aware that we should be called on at daylight to carry trench torpedoes, and quite content nevertheless.

Malcolm COWLEY, T. M. U. 526.


I sing of Freedom and I strike for Right! .
And, guided by my Mentors, mark the way
For France, tho Nature' forces fain would stay
My death-ensuing, vict'ry winning flight.
One fear impelling voyage, existence o'er
One blow for France --- from comrades many more.

'Tis early morn, perhaps, or bright noontide,
Perhaps the Sun has travelled to the night.
Command is giv'n, a chance to "Strike for Right."
Unleashed, assured, I sail th' ethereal tide.
My port? A ravitaillement camp ; a trench
An avion ; a battery's fire to quench.

'Tis Dark! The Lady Moon concealing tears,
Behind a cloudy kerchief, will not see
The Folly that has made our hosts to be.
She knows a moment's silence --- and appears.
We chant in chorus -- men and earth are flung!
She sees --- and goes --- again our chant is sung.

I sing of Freedom and I strike for Right!
A son, a blow for loyal France who dares.
And, Strong of heart, Her mighty arm She bares
Nor rests, nor falters, bound to win the fight.
France! Loving all --- and victimized by Might!
France sings of Freedom and France strikes for Right!

E. M., S. S. U. 626 (Old. 2.)


Young men of ours, whom go ye forth for to seek ?
--- The self-styled Caesar who enslaves the weak.
How may ye summon him? --- Our guns shall speak.

Behind his hosts lie cowers out of reach.
--- But we have pledged our lives, each unto each,
In that strong living wall to make a breach.

Last sacrifice of all is life, yet least
Unless ye losing it, so quell the Beast
Else make ye but more fodder for his feast.

--- Fear not. Are we not all things, being brave?
More precious gifts than life we go to save,
And know no choice but victory or the grave.

God give you victory, brave gentlemen.
The Hun ye fear not, and 'tis well ; but then
Ye shall not face that foeman one in ten,

But must in humbler service learn --- how hard!---
To work unknown, unhonored, and unscarred,
To watch, inactive yet on constant guard,

To wait --- the hardest task of all!---to wait
The call that may come never, or too late,
To wait in vain, in vain importunate.

To wait, to watch, to work far from the front
Where beckons fame --- that is the bitter brunt
Of war: true steel the soul it shall not blunt.

That is the common burden, and thence sprung
The common enemy, whose serpent tongue
Betrays the soul war-weary and unstrung.

After the tense trench-vigil, in the gray
Monotony of camps where day by day
Life drifts in weary emptiness away,

Or in the still sad hours of nature's peace,
At eventide, when tasks mechanic cease
To drug the mind, and i now given release,

Wings from a world where only might is strong,
Where right is martyred by triumphant wrong,
Where men shame wolves---O God, how long, how long?--

Unto a dearer land where dear ones wait
For Peace to open again her rusted gate,
Peace --- for how many a home alas, too late!

In hours like these --- and late or soon to all
They come, and oft --- a shadow like a pall
Is laid upon the spirit; past recall

Vanish the valiant ardor, the high hope
Of victory, the stern resolve to cope
With any odds. As through a telescope

Reversed, the mind sees great things small: the War
A lunatic muddle of mere greed and gore,
Of millions martyred for a pride-blown score

Sees loyalty, devotion, sacrifice
Shrink to illusions fostered to entice
The victim on to pay the victor's price.

So, its true balance lost, the, o'er-wrought mind
Reels to foul disaffection, or in blind
Apathy idles, honor left behind.

And doubt, the vapor which sick souls exhale,
May, like the genii in the Arab tale,
Cover at last the heavens with a veil,

Darkening the day for all, and stifling all.
Remember, brave young men, brave Russia's fall
For she was brave that is the German's thrall.

The constancy that conquers self she lacked.
Pray God that ye may lack it not, but act
In all things faithful to your sacred pact.

In weariness and worry and mischance
Remember the long fortitude of France,
And write in deeds your country's true romance.

J. B. F. (S. S. U. 14)
Ech. Am. Parc F.


You may tack on fuss and feathers
And plumes and golden braid,
Or choose a gorgeous uniform,
As striking as is made---
Dress your soldiers as you like,
But still it will be true --
You'll have to take your hat off
To the Overcoats of Blue!

Oh, the Overcoats of Blue! The Overcoats of Blue!
They're soldiers of the finest, are the Overcoats of Blue!

You may take your men in khaki,
Your men in brown and grey,
They are first class fighting soldiers
They'll prove it any day! honor every one of them
For all that they've been thru,
But you'll have to give the laurels
To the Overcoats of Blue

Oh, the Overcoats of Blue! The Overcoats of Blue!
They're the finest fighting soldiers, are the Overcoats of Blue!

When this war is done and finished
We'll have a grand parade,
And to all the Allied soldiers
Will honor due be paid ;
But you'll see, in ail their glory,
At the head of the revue,
Just the ordinary poilus
The "Overcoats of blue!"

The "Overcoats of Blue!" The "Overcoats of Blue!"
They will march before the finest, will the " Overcoats of Blue!

R. A. D. --- S. S. U. 18.


Humbly we come from homes across the sea,
Not vaunting our own glory or out fame
To take our place in ranks among the free
And help to crush a king who has no shame.

We come not in a grand superior way,
Aiming at showy prowess o'er the world
All that we ask is that our, banner may
Beside the glorious flags of France be furled.

Forget we now our pride, our slogans loud
Give us the work you have for us to do,
That we may sooner mingle with the crowd
And take our place beside the men of blue.

This be our wish:---That each may, do his part,
And give, out of himself, all that he can,
And fight the final battle as the start,
That each, before the world, may prove a man.

R. A. D. --- S. S. U. 18.


Word has been received that Arthur Bluthenthal has been killed in an aerial battle, his machine having been brought down in flames.

Bluthenthal joined the American Field Service in May 1915 and was soon thereafter sent to Section 3. He remained with the section over a year serving at Verdun, Lorraine and in the Orient where he received the Croix de Guerre. When America declared war Bluthenthal joined the French Aviation Service and had been at the front for some time before his death.

He was a Princeton graduate and his home was in Wilmington, Delaware.


Two books dealing with life in the old Field Service are announced for early publication in America, by former Field Service drivers.

"Ambulance 464 " by Julian Bryan, S. S. U. 12,
"Trucking to the Trenches " by John Kautz, T. M. U. 184

The preparation of the "History of the American Field Service" is progressing and will be ready for the press in due season. The chapters devoted to the various Sections are nearly completed, though any facts and episodes concerning them, which are not already in hand, would be welcomed. Home letters, journals and diaries always contain interesting matter.

Much material of this kind has already been examined but further contributions may be sent in.

All communications should be addressed

To the Editor of the Field Service History,
21, rue Raynouard

H. S. Ramsdell,
S. S. U. 629 (old 9)



Subscription Rates

Three Months

Fr 2,00

Civilians by post

Fr. 2,75

Six Months


"      "       "




Personally Conducted in
(and Travelling Time)


Second Class Private Dante who has been through Purgatory, and is willing to tyke chances.

M. P., guide, philosopher but hardly friend.

American officers, Demi-mondes, Y. M. C. A. workers, bar-keep, permissionaires, porters, taxi-drivers, waiters and other vultures of the, world back there.


A railway siding, halfway between Nowhere and Somewhereselse. Noise of passing troop and ravitaillement trains. Enter Dante and M. P.

Dante. --- Where do we go from here, guide?

M. P. --- We don't ; we must wait here for several hours until the next passenger train arrives.

Dante. --- But I am tired and hungry, and I came here for relaxation.

M. P. --- You can relax on the platform.

Dante. --- But can we get anything to eat.

M. P. --- We could get a sandwich ; but this is a meatless day, and we don't sell bread to militaires.

(Dante falls into a deep sleep)


Paris. The boulevards , Eater Dante with M. P.

Dante. - What is this wonderful place?

M. P. --- This is Paris.

Dante. --- So this is Paris. --- Where's the vampires?

M. P. --- They will be along presently. That's why we must hurry away.

Dante. --- But I like it here. I would fain listen to sweet music, eat expensive meals, and ride in costly taxi-cabs.

M. P--- No, my friend ; Paris is out of bounds.

Dante. --- But who are these in Sambrown belts that look at me so hautily?

M. P. --- Those, my friend, are American Red Cross officers. They live in Paris.

Dante (Wistfully). --- Ah me, would that I too were such an officer.

(Enter ravishing Demoiselles)

Demis. --- Monsieur, voulez-vous vous promener avec nous?

M. P. --- No, my friend we must be going.
(He drags Dante out, the sirens clinging to his coattails and making lament.)


Aix. Dante and M. P. once more.

M. P. --- This, my friend, is the home of the American Sammy. We want you to be happy here.

Dante. --- Yes, yes. I'm extremely tired. I would like to go to a good hotel at once.

M. P. --- Well, let's see ; we take them alphabetically. Here is your card ; you go to the Dilapidation.

Dante. --- Well, I'm a sport. I don't mind taking my turn, but I should like a good hot bath.

M. P. --- Um --- here are the regulations «Every mail is entitled to a hot bath upon arrival, if hotel has a bath. »

Dante. --- That's good. Has our hotel a bath?

M. P. --- Unfortunately not.


Aix again. M. P. and Dante as before.

M. P. --- Is this not a beautiful country?

Dante. --- Magnificent! What is there to do?

M. P. --- A variety of things. Perhaps you would like to go round to the Y. M. C. A. It was a gambling hall before the Americans came.

Dante. --- Oh, what a fall was there my countrymen!

M. P. --- Or you can take long walks, or go for a bicycle ride. You leave from the Y. M. C. A.

Dante. --- No, I did quite a bit of walking out in Purgatory, and it's a bit warm for cycling.

M. P. --- There are many nice trips to take.

Dante. --- That's fine ; I'd like to drop down to Grenoble, or Annecy or Avion or Chamonix.

M. P. --- Those places, my friend, are out of bounds ; but you can go to the Y. M. C. A.

Dante. --- Not just yet. Suppose we go round to the Hotel Spondulix and get a cock-tail.

M. P. --- The Hotel Spondulix is out of bounds ; and so are cock-tails, though you may have light wine and beer.

Dante. --- I don't think I should like the mixture. Is there anything good that isn't out of bounds?

M. P. --- The Y. M. C. A.

Dante. --- Then I suppose we have got to go there. I met two awfully attractive French girls at the hotel ; lets take them around and dance.

M. P. --- The Y. M. C. A. is out of bounds for them.


The Y. M. C. A. Dante, with M. P., enters timidly.

M. P. --- Welcome here, friend. Do as you please --- go the limit.

Dante. --- But who are these that smile so sweetly, who dance so incessantly, and talk and chat so gaily?

M. P. --- They are the Y. M. C. A. workers, and it is their business to entertain our soldiers.

Dante. --- But I thought only men belonged to the Y. M. C. A.

M. P. (archly). --- You see you were mistaken.

Dante. --- It must be very hard for them to be kind and cheerful all the time.

M. P. --- Oh. no, it is their work. They are cheerful whether they are happy or not. They are very nice people.

Dante. --- That's just it. I didn't know there were so many Nice people left. I had forgotten it out there. But tell me, who are these who in khaki ride so feverishly on bicycles and sing so joyously and play the ukelele?

M. P. --- They are permissionaires from the front having a good time.

Dante. --- Great guns, they're not the men that I know out there. It's all very nice, but isn't the kind of fun that I enjoy. There must be something radically wrong with me.
(He seats himself in an armchair and loosens his collar)

M. P. --- Calm yourself, my friend, and quickly! --- button up your collar or some officer will see you and send you home.
(Dante only moans.)
You are faint, shall I get you a grape-juice?
(D. shakes his head.)
Or an orangeade? (D. refuses) or a cup of chocolate?

Dante. --- No, no, If you love me, take me away. How long did you say we must stay here.

M P. --- Seven days.

I)ante. --- But can't we leave tomorrow if we like?

M. P. --- Absolutely not. No man is going to be cheated of his vacation.

(Dante is borne out by attendant M. P. s.)


An American Bar. Dante, alone, is seen to enter stealthily. He speaks guardedly to the bar keep and gives him money in French bills, The barkeep takes a bottle and pours out a drink which Dante downs behind a palm tree, smacking his lips, The process is repeated several times. Finally at the last drink there is a step at the door, and Dante turns in the act of drinking to face M. P. who expresses signs of honor. Tableau.


A third class railway carriage. Dante and M. P. hunched in a corner. Several poilus snoring and eating garlic. Pinard leaking from a bidon on hat-rack.

Dante. --- Will we never get there?

M. P. --- Yes, my friend, we are arrived.
(They descend.)

Dante. --- And where are we now?

M. P. --- Back in Purgatory.

Dante. --- Thank God!!

Curtain (of fire)

(To be continued four months later.)




     To The Field Service Bulletin:

Sherman L. Conklin, the S. L. C. whose verse and prose contributions have so enlivened The Bulletin, was killed in action on June 12th. He had gone to a front line poste de secours and was waiting for his ambulance to be loaded, when a shell fell at his side, a piece of éclat striking him in the head and causing instant death.

Because of his unfailing good nature he had endeared himself not only to the members of the section but to all those Frenchmen with whom he came in contact, and the feeling of loss which followed the news of his death soon spread throughout the division. Scores of French comrades had reason to remember some little thoughtfulness or kindness at the hands of "Cub", who was forever busying himself in trying to bring a little more cheerfulness and a little more happiness into the lives of all those with whom he came into contact.

Conklin was the section poet and the section scribe and section literature has been enriched by many a gem from his pen. He enlisted in the United States, going to the old ambulance camp in Allentown, when that camp was in its rather chaotic infancy. He came to France in August and joined the section Nov. 8th, 1917. It was early in January that "Cub" performed an act of heroism that nearly cost him his life at that time, and for which he, fittingly, received the coveted Croix de Guerre.

An explosion of gasoline set fire to the clothing of John (Nip) Nazel and he was enveloped in flames. Disregarding the danger to himself, Conklin, who was very large, took Nazel, who is very small, in his arms, and literally tried to smother the flames.. It was due to his efforts that Nazel's life was saved, but both were badly burned and for two months were in the hospital. In fact, Conklin had just returned from his convalescence leave when the Germans began their desperate attempt in the Somme.

On the Somme, as later in the Aisne, Conklin distinguished himself by his utter devotion to duty, his indefatigable energy and his total disregard of danger. He liked nothing better than to be transporting blessés from the first lines and none was a more careful driver than he. Frenchmen who were evacuated in Conklin's car were twice fortunate because not only did they receive the most careful of treatment, but most of Conklin's supply of tobacco was given with a generous hand to those of the wounded who smoked.

Conklin has answered his last call, but he has left behind an example that will be an inspiration to the section as long as it is in existence. He is missed as no other member of the section could be missed, but at least there is this, that he died in the service in which he was most happy to devote all his abilities and energy.




CITATIONS OF S. S. U. 622 (OLD 65)

SPONAGLE James M., Lieutenant Américain à la S.S.U. 622 :

«Venu des premiers sur le front français comme volontaire, s'est toujours fait remarquer parmi les braves ».

«Le 27 mai 1918, dans un poste avancé violemment bombardé où il surveillait son service, a été contusionné par un éclat d'obus et a fait preuve dans cette circonstance, du plus calme sang-froid. »

HILL Ralph B., caporal à la S.S.U. 622 :

« A assuré, pendant la nuit du i mai 1918, les évacuations d'un «poste particulièrement exposé et bombardé par obus toxiques. Est un exemple de courage et de dévouement. »

MACNAIR Hugh W., Conducteur à la S.S.U. 622 :

« Conducteur modèle, toujours volontaire pour les missions dangereuses. S'est fait remarquer par son sang-froid dans les nuits du 15 et du 16 mai 1918 ».

UPSON Millard C., Conducteur à la S.S.U. 622 :

« Conducteur très brave et dévoué. S'est fait remarquer dans les nuits du 15 et du 16 mai 1918 par son réel mépris du danger ».


Lieutenant H. A. Innes-Brown (S.S.U.3) : For efficiency and coolness in the evacuation of wounded at personal risk under trying conditions.




Word has just been received that Coleman T. Clark died ou May 29th at a French evacuation hospital as a result of wounds received in action. Clark came to France as a volunteer in the American Field Service in May 1916 and joined Section 3 in Lorraine. He was with the Section at Verdun and in November went with it to the Balkans serving there for six months, where he received the Croix de Guerre. He returned to France in November 1917 and went to the French Artillery School at Fontainebleau where he graduated as an aspirant in the French Army and left soon after to join his regiment.


Gordon K. Mackenzie (S.S.U. 10) died in a hospital on June 22nd from wounds. He was wounded by a shell while helping load his ambulance with wounded at a poste. Newcomb (S.S.U. 2) was with him at the time but only received slight injuries. Mackenzie joined the Field Service in November 1917 and went with Section 10 to the Balkans. On the return of this section to France he enlisted in the U. S. Army Ambulance Service and was attached to S. S. U. 626 (old S.S.U. 2).



Charles Conrad Jatho (S.S. U. 19) during the last advance he was at his post with his ambulance, and nothing has been heard of him since. Jatho went out with Section 19 in July 1917. He was 29 years old, from Hobart College and his home was Albany, N. Y.

Ralph Everett Ellinwood joined the service June 9, 1917 was in T. M. U. (242-397) Enlisted Reserve Mallet and was transferred to S. S. U. 624 U. S. A. A. S. 11/12/17. He was 24 years of age, from Amherst College and his home was Bisbee, Arizona.

Don Carlos Murphy (S. S. U. 18) joined Section 18 Oct. 45, 1917 transferred to Sec 642. U. S. A. A. S. 2nd of Nov. '1917. He was 23 years old, from Cincinnati University and his home was Lincoln, Illinois.

William Jenks Wright (S. S. U. 18) joined Section 18 May 8th, 1917 and was transferred to Section 642 U. S. A. A. S. on November 2, 1917. He was 21 years old, from Haverford College, and his home was in Philadelphia.



S. S. U. 635 (old 17)

S. S. U. 635 (Old 17) has been saddened b the death of Sherman L. Conklin and the wounding of Sidney (Sy) Eddy and John (Nip). Nazel, in the action from which the section just has come to a much welcomed repos. Conklin was killed and Eddy injured by éclat from shells, but Nazel was particularly unfortunate in that his injury was due entirely to inhuman practices of the Germans.

Nazel was standing in a poste de secours which was located in a large chateau near the front and which was plainly marked with a large Red Cross flag. A Boche aviator swooped down on the poste, raking it with machine gun fire. A bullet came through a window, the glass of which long since had been shattered by shell-concussion, and struck Nazel, It passed directly through his right thigh, and gave a painful but not dangerous wound. At present he is in Base Hospital No. 9, AEF.

Eddy was driving along a road that had been frequently bombarded, when a shell landed near his car, wrecking it but injuring only Eddy. He received a piece of éclat in his head but, fortunately, his wound likewise was not dangerous and before many weeks will be "home again" with the section.

The section is proud in the possession of 10 (count 'em) new chassis to replace three that have been demolished by shells, and others that have given up the ghost under the extraordinary calls made upon them. Seemingly, even a Ford has his limit! The new chassis are OD and when next the section moves on duty all the cars will have received liberal applications of paint and the section will present a strange appearance.

Five men are taking the waters at Aix. They are Walter Garritt, Chester McArthur, Louis Mustard, William Church and Jefferson Coolidge.

The return of Lieut. Neftel from Paris gave the section its first glimpse of the new overseas hat. it could not help but be an improvement --- anything would have been an improvement, --- over the old overseas nightmare. It was voted a success.

Marty Muldoon, who manicures the big White, is the one disconsolate member of the section. Back home Marty (of COURSE he's Irish) had a way with the chickens that any Irishman can explain or duplicate. In the course of the French retreat Marty attached himself to five chickens --- of the eating variety. He was going to fatten 'em but for some reason the chickens did not take to him very fast, and one morning they disappeared. Since when Marty has had to content himself with anticipating the regular section fare. It is said that certain others could tell---but SSH!

J. B. C.



D. J. Post S.S.U. 9 Artillery School at Fontainebleau.
J. H. Canney S.S.U. 4 Artillery School at Fontainebleau.
E. M. Gildea T.M.U. 133 Elève Aspirant, 52e Brigade, Ecole Militaire d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau.
David L. Garratt S.S.U. 66 Elève Aspirant, 52e Brigade, Ecole Militaire d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau.
Robert B. Hyman T.M.U. 242 Elève Aspirant, 52 Brigade, Ecole Militaire d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau.
Oliver S. J. Rice T.M.U. 397 Q. M. C. of the U. S. A. Washington, D. C.
John Albert Tomlin S.S.U. 17 U. S. Aviation in U. S. A.
Atherton Howard Smith S.S.U. 13 Sgt. Engineers, unassigned. in U. S. A.
Paul Wakeman Price T.M.U. 133 Cadet, U. S. Army Aviation in U. S. A.
John G. Rothermel. S.S.U. 66 Cadet, O. T. C Heavy Artillery Fortress Monroe.
W. C. Sanger S.S.U. 9 1st Lieut. Infantry, U. S. R. A. E. F.
J. Hopkins Smith S.S.U. 3 Ensign U. S. Navy.
R. K. Gooch S.S.U. 4 1st Lieut. Coast Artillery A. E. F.
Elmer J. Rose S.S.U. 17 2nd. Lieut. L. R. C. U. S. U. S. A.
Kenneth M. Reed S.S.U. 67 Assistant --Bureau of Exp. War Trade Board N Y. Office
Preston Whitcomb S.S.U. 72 D. C. U. S. A. Export Clerk. War Trade Board, Washington.
Walter Phelps Hall T.M.U. 133 Army Y. M. C. A. Camp Educational Director Camp McClellan.
Harold Kingsland S.S.U. 1 2nd. Lieut. U. S. Signal Corps.
D. V. Rice S.S.U. 3 1st Lieut. 369 U. S. Infantry A. E. F.
Arthur Kingsland S.S.U. 3 American Red Cross.
Irving Williams T.M. 184 Pvt. Company 37 Sect. B. 10th Battalion 153 D. B. Camp Dix.
B. C. Tower (T. M. Camp). Pvt. American Mission M. T. D. American E. F.


Robert G. Eoff, a charter member of the S. S. U. 18, and in the French Aviation from last July, has just been commissioned second lieutenant in the U. S. Air Service. He expects to leave soon again for the front.



John G. Craft (T.M.U. 133) American Aviation ; Richard B. English (S.S.U. 29) American Aviation ; Parker K. Elis (S.S.U. 9) 90e Brigade Ecole Militaire Fontainebleau ; James M. Parmelee (S.S.U. 27) 90e Brigade Ecole Militaire Fontainebleau ; B. K. Neftel (S. S. U. 8 and 17) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A. S. ; W. J. Losh (S.S.U. 14 and 10) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A. S. ; W. C. Sanger (S.S.U. 9) 1st Lieut. Infantry U. S. R. ; R. K. Gooch (S.S.U. 4) 1st Lieut. Coast Artillery ; J. R. Greenwood (S.S.U. 8 and Vosges Det.) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A. S. ; E. J. Curley (S.S.U. 3) Aspirant French Artillery ; D. Rice (S.S.U. 3) 1st Lieut. U. S. N. G. Infantry; L. A. MacPherson (S.S.U. 19) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A. S. ; W. Gywnn (S.S.U. 8) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A. S. ; William M. Barber (S.S.U. 3) Aspirant French Artillery ; Robert E. Dickerman (T.M.U. 184) American Red Cross ; Robert Stinson (T.M.U. 133) American Red Cross ; Robert D. Caney (T.M.U. 526) American Red Cross ; C. A. Blackwell (S.S.U. 64) 52e Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie ; R. R. Ball (S.S.U. 69) 52° Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie; W. Parmenter Hunt (S.S.U. 13) U. S. S. A. S. ; W. T. Corry (S.S.U. 13) U. S. A. A. S. ; Robert G. Eoff (S.S.U. 18) French Aviation, Es. Spa 157 ; Frank A. Cooper (S.S.U. 2) U. S. A. A. S.; Douglas P. Maxwell (S.S.U. 2) U. S. A. A. S. ; John W. Ames (S.S.U. 2) 45e Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie ; Hardwicke M. Nevin (S.S.U. 32) U. S. A. A. S. ; H. W. Patterson (T.M.U. 133) 52° Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie; W. S. Rollins (T. M. U. 184) A. R. C. Italian Service; W. J. Bringham (S. S. U. 30 and 2) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A S.; F. D. Benham (T.M.U. 397) 43rd Reg. T. M. ; A. K. Dearborn (T.M.U. 397) Purchasing Staff Q. M. ; Austin T. Tubbs (T.M.U. 397) B Co. 2nd U. S. Engineers ; J. H. Canney (S.S.U. 4) 32e Reg d'Artillerie ; Arthur Dallin (S.S.U. 1) 32e Reg. d'Artillerie John S. Spaulding (T.M.U. 526) U. S. Air Service; H. D. Wood (S.S.U. 69) 32e Reg. Ecole d'Artillerie ; H. C. Wesley (S.S.U. 69) 32e Reg. Ecole d'Artillerie ; Thomas Means (T.M.U. 526) Headquarters M. T. S. ; George W. Deforest (S.S.U. 16) U. S. A. A. S. ; F. C. Jones (T.M.U. 133) Bennet Wells (T.M.U. 526) 1st Lieut. U. S. Air Service ; Benjamin Carpenter (T.M.U. 133) Ecole Militaire, Fontainebleau ; Will E. Daggett (S.S.U. 27) American Red Cross ; Edward D. Kendall (S.S.U. 2) U. S. A. A. S,



The prizes offered for contributions to the Fourth of July Number of the American Field Service Bulletin have been awarded as follows:

TWENTY-FIVE FRANCS for the best design for a cover for that special number, to Walter J. Gores, S. S. U. 636 (old. 18).

TWENTY-FIVE FRANCS for the best poem embodying the spirit of the day, to Paul M. Fulcher, S. S. U. 631 (old 13).




The American Field Service Bulletin,

I want to thank you for sending nie a copy of your 48th issue. I did not even know the Bulletin was still in existence and enclose five franc note towards a six months subscription. I have been in America six months after leaving the Field Service last fall, and now once more in France would very much like to get in touch with several members of the old T. M. U. 526. If you can send me the addresses in France of the following men: Louis G. Mudge, Frank H. Cary and Arthur E. Ralston, I will appreciate it very much.

Very truly yours,

George C. SEELEY,
(formerly T. M. U. 526).

A former member of Section 18 writes:

Among the late arrivals in the sector have been some negro troops. Before the recent attack one was observed to be without either rifle or bayonet. When questioned as to this he remarked, "Naw boss, all don' wan' no rifle cause ah's got my li'le razor." During the thick of the fighting, when the men advanced. the same negro was seen here and there, furiously waving his razor. Approaching a big Boche, the negro was observed to make a pass at the other's neck, and though to all appearances he had struck him, no signs of it appeared. The Boche thinking to worry the negro remarked ".Well I fooled you that time." He was rather stunned, however with the reply "Don' yuh fool yose'f ; yuh jess wait 'till yuh try an' turn yuh haid."



In reply to the Old Philadelphia Lady who wants to tell when she see an Ambulance with the U. S. A. A. S. number on it what the former Field Service number was.

I beg to make a few remarks with n view to clearing up this tangle, for such it seems to be. As far as I can see there is no [...]



Subscription Rates

Three Months

Fr 2,00

Civilians by post

Fr. 2,75

Six Months


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A bit of ivy clambers o'er the wall
Of this forsaken house in Amiens;
Its crumbling shell-torn stones about it fall,
Its street is lonely and devoid of men...
Deserted is this city of the dead,
Unseeing, cold, its shutters blind stare down,
Unheeding of the lonely sentry's tread,
Insensate to the sadness of the town...
Gone, gone the folk of all these pleasant streets,
Gone all the colors, all the swirl of life,
Gone all the sounds, save where the cannon beats,
And yet, here where the ruins hourly fall,
This bit of ivy clambers o'er the wall.

L. W. --- S. S. U. 636 (Old 18)



To thee, sweet France, we eager turn,
Land where the deeds of old still burn,
Land where the soul's supreme emotion
In glorious action is exprest,
Land where the patriot's deep devotion
Includes a love for all who yearn
To see their country's wrongs redrest,
To thee, sweet France, we turn!

From "An Ode to France" by
Raymond WEEKS. (Headquarters).




At Marre, October 1917,

A wan wind whispers thru the trees ; and rain,
Beseeming tears from heaven, gently course.
The ambient air a factor of remorse
All nature seeks expression for her pain.
Nor shews her vapored sympathy in vain.
Guns hush the while, all noise of War is stilled
Rest in sad silence Killer and --- the Killed---
Beats high the Heart --- Ah is it Peace again ?

And on the moment smites the air a blast
Gun roars on gun in harshest accents --- Fast
Fly the obus; Death is again on wing,
From tearful trees and sad hillsides the arms
Of lengthening flashes spread the wild alarms ---
But still a rainfall still winds whispering!

E. M., S. S. U. 626 (Old 2).




We have written our joys and our sorrows,
And our jests that have passed off the time,
We have given no care for tomorrows,
Nor bothered with thoughts in our rhyme
We've sung as we've talked in the barracks,
And at poste 'round the grey ambulance,
But back of the chaff, and the jest, and the gaff
Is the feeling we have --- for France!

Oh, we most of us came for the reason
Of adventure or playing the game,
Or of doing our duty in season,
Or of leaving a life that was tame
But we've done that, and now we've new reason,
Artillery, tanks, ambulance
If they'd let us go 'way, we would most of us stay
And stand by the battle --- for France!

Oh, it isn't in words that we show it,
They're too feeble to tell what we feel
It's down in our hearts that we know it, -
It's down in our soul that it's real.
So we stick to our work as we find it,
And forget the caprices of Chance,
For we know that the price of the big sacrifice
Is little enough --- for France!

R. A. D., S. S. U. 636 (Old 18).





Another name was added to the hit of former American Field Service men whose lives were ended in the cause, in the death on June 28, of Second Lieutenant Goodwin Warner. Taken ill of pneumonia while in the field, Lieutenant Warner was removed to Camp Hospital No. 4, and died there two days later.

Lieutenant Warner was respected as an officer and revered as a friend by hundreds-of -members of the old field service transport men and also by. the men of the new forces of the American army which he commanded after enlisting in the army October, 1917.

He will be long remembered by those of the men who got their first taste of training and discipline under him at Chavigny where his good nature, his courtesy, and obligingness and all gentlemanly qualities won for him the affection of everyone. Every section that he trained at Chavigny begged him to go out as their chef and were disappointed when his duties in training kept him from doing so.

Lieutenant Warner came-to France in the early summer of 1917. He was stationed at Jouaignes in T. M. 184 for a while and was then sent back to Chavigny to command and train new sections just coming out. He later went back to Jouaignes in command of another section. In October he enlisted as private in the American Army, and was commissioned Lieutenant about two months later. He was regarded by both American and French as one of the most efficient officers in the services.

Commandant Mallet, commanding the Mallet Reserve, Capt. Douglas, commanding the American Mission with the Reserve, and several brother officers attended his funeral, at which a body of 28 men of his company formed the funeral escort.

In a general order issued by the American mission the following tribute is paid to Lieutenant Warner:

"The Commanding Officer announces with deep regret the death of Second Lieutenant Goodwin Warner. QMRC., at Camp Hospital No. 4 on June 28, after a brief illness.

Lieutenant Warner came to France with the American Field Service in the French army in the summer of 1917, from which he was enlisted in the American army where his ability soon won for him a commission as an officer in the American Expeditionary Forces. As commanding officer of a Motor Transport Company, Lieut. Warner rendered very valuable and efficient service. During the past critical weeks his efforts and enthusiasm were continued and indefatigable and won for him the deep appreciation of the French and American officers associated with him, and his promotion to the command of a groupe which was announced during his last illness."

Commandant Mallet spoke as follows at the funeral of Lieutenant Warner:

"As Commanding Officer of this Reserve it devolves upon me to pay a parting tribute of respect and affection to our dear friend, Lieutenant Warner, who has been taken from us so suddenly.

Thirteen months have elapsed since Goodwin Warner joined the Reserve as a volunteer. Although his health was far from perfect, he was so anxious to serve the noble cause we are all fighting for, that he joined the American Field Service as soon as his country had declared war.

In a very short time he was promoted, first to a sergeant, next to the command of a section. In. October he graduated from the Officers' Training School of the Automobile Service, and enlisted in the American Army He then got his commission as 2nd Lieutenant, and on March 2nd, he took Company 360 into the field.

On June 22nd, on the very day on which he fell ill, he was promoted to the Command of a Groupe of four companies, and serving in this position he would soon have become a captain.

His fellow officers cannot speak too highly of him as a good and trusty friend; his men have always known him as a kind and reliable leader.

As for myself, it is my desire to acknowledge before you the deep debt of gratitude the French Army owes to Lieutenant Warner who came to serve our country before his own needed him, and who has ever since been performing his military duties with such devotion and efficiency.

In the name of the Director of the French Automobile Service, in the name of my Reserve, I wish him a last farewell, and address the expression of our deep and respectful sympathy to his family, and to those who are mourning today an affectionate friend, a promising officer, and a perfect gentleman."



It has been learned that Frank L. Baylies who was reported missing was brought down in the German lines, with a bullet through the head.



Edward Trafton Hathaway, 1st. Lieut. in U. S. Air Service, was killed in an aviation accident last week. He joined the Field Service March 12, 1917, and left with S. S. U. 17 on April 30th, and was released to go into aviation July 6th, 1917. His home was Houston, Texas, and he was a graduate of Virginia Military Institute.




Inward and outward, northward and southward, the camions rumble and roar,
Trains of them trying the endless supplying of guns ever hungry for more.
In daylight and dark at the munitions parks, discharging their missives of death,
Their engines demur, and laboriously purr, as if waiting to catch their breath.
Shot at by aeroplanes, helpless beneath the rain, of rattling machine gun and shell,
Complaining at hills to climb, grumbling all the time, an offensive is certainly hell.
Starting they splutter, in effort to utter protest at their labor and toil
Crying for water as they grow hotter, and always hungry for oil.
Huge beasts of burden, they toil without guerdon, and like their young brothers, the tanks,
Always they're chaffed at, awkwardness laughed at, never a word of thanks.
Turning and winding, chugging and grinding, in convoys the camions wend,
Their lumbering way, they lurch and they sway and they hog all the turns and the bends:
Useless to curse them, better to nurse them, they like to be petted, the dears.
Whate' er his disparity, neighbor, have charity, for him who a camion steers.

David DARRAH (Reserve Mallet).




Yellow flowers
And greening trees -
Skirt the roads
Where the refugées
Flee from the wrath -
Of the coming Hun
Fields deserted
Ere growing's begun.

Almost hidden
In dirt and dust
Leaving their homes
Because they must
Women in black
For so ns they lost ---
Ah, war is waged
At a terrible cost

And children, too,
In high ox-carts
Gaze in wonder
At sights so new
Though grief and pain
In their mother meet
As she says with a sigh
"Mes pauvres petites ".

Trudging along
By the oxen's head
The father walks
With steps of lead.
No more for him
Grenade and gun
Released by age,
He had just begun

A peaceful life
After war's alarms
In the fields and woods
Of his quiet farm
When once again
The Blond Beast came
Bringing destruction
Death and flames.

Slowly along
The dusty road
Oxen labor
Beneath their load
And soldiers stir
In their roadside grave
And weep for the living
They died to save.

David DARRAH (Reserve Mallet).




We were three of us riding along that night
The Frenchmann, the German and I
They hurried us back from the bloodiest fight
As God willed to live or to die.

The ambulance jolted and rocked on the road
And we writhed in exquisite pain.
We pled with the driver, but never he slowed,
We cursed him but cursing was vain.

I lay on one side and opposite me
The German on stretchers reposed
And the Frenchman above ---an éclat in his knee---
The flash of the guns disclosed.

We were out of the fight for a while, at least,
And we held to the rules of the game.
How could we credit the German beast
With such a treacherous aim ?

They had bound his wound and given him care ---
--- Blessés, we all were alike.
Better a lot to have left him there ---
The adder waiting to strike !

The Frenchman had saved my life at a cost---
A cripple the rest of his days
Fought with the German after I lost
Foothold in the muddy maze.

But after the fight our enmity ceased,
Our wounds had ended the strife.
But not for the German
While scarcely lie breathed
I saw him reach for his knife.

By the light of the shells before I could think
He intended the dastard attack,
He turned and I saw the knife blade sink
Deep in the Frenchman's back.

I saw it all by the gleam and flash
Of the guns, from my stretcher bed
And vengeance cried from that bleeding gash, ---
And I shot the German dead!

David DARRAH (Reserve Mallet).


This is the last picture taken of Section 15 in the Field Service. Taken at Wassy (Haute-Marne), France.

Clitus JONES. S S. U. 15.



Thomas A. Carothers T.M.U. 526 2nd Lieut. Q. M. U. S. R. Reserve Mallet, American E. F.
Buford A. Clark T.M.U. 184 2nd Lieut. Q. M. U. S. R. Reserve Mallet, American E. F.
Robert A. Browning S.S.U. 20 2nd Lieut. Q. M. U. S. R. Reserve Mallet, American E. F.
Arthur H. Terry, Jr T.M.U. 133 2nd Lieut. Q. M. U. S. R. Reserve Mallet, American E. F.
Raymond G. Urban T.M.U. 184 2nd Lieut. Q. M. U. S. R. Reserve Mallet, American E. F.
Ora R. McMurray S.S.U. 17 1st Lieut. A S, Sig. R. C. Spad 80.
Vincent E. Heywood S.S.U. 17 1st. Lieut. A. S. Sig. . C. 99 Aero Squ.
Philip T. Sprague S.S.U. 8 Chem. Service, Section N. A.
James M. White S.S.U. 1 Lieut. Gas Service, American A. F.
D. Sellars   1st Cl. Signal Corps Photo Laboratory, A. E. F.
William H. Cutler S.S.U. 9 Lieut. Chaplain --- 13th Engineers A. E. F.
Edwin M. Noyes. S.S.U. 28 Met'l Div. S. C. Army Signal School.
Louis G. Mudge T.M.U. 526 Pvt. Co. A 327° Brigade, 311 Centre Tank Corps.
W. F. Moreland T.M.U. 526 Aspirant 303 R. A. L. 3° Groupe.



E.-J. Curley (S. S. U. 3) is at present on convalescence from .a wound received in the last offensive.


To the Editor of the Bulletin:

Is a citation given to a number or to a personnel ? When the Field Service was made over, our citation went with the new number and new personnel. How many other sections have, been forced to give up their citations I am not able to say. Should this be so ?

FORMER, S. S. U. 18



The Châlet at 21 has been used these last weeks as a home for convalescents in which many U. S. A. A. S. men have been looked after. Among those at present enjoying this hospitality are

Charles B. Cummings S.S.U. 591
Herbert S. Lomas S.S.U. 650
Edward S. Storer S.S.U. 631
Edward D. Kendall S.S.U. 626
John D Sanford S.S.U. 621
Thomas A. Ross S.S.U. 644
John D. Mague S.S.U. 649
M. C. Smouse S.S.U. 523
Frank Conly S.S.U. 621
Meinard Fuhs S.S.U. 650
Abraham Gensberg S.S.U. 594
L. R. Smith S.S.U. 650
Fred Gale Casual Detachment
Calvin Edwards S.S.U. 650
Dennis P. Nash S.S.U. 637
S. A. Stuck Parc G
Harry S. Howlett S.S.U. 516
Ray R. Driskill S.S.U. 609




A special buffet luncheon was served on the Fourth for about eighty old Field Service members. Unfortunately no record was made of those who were present but among them were recognized the following:

E. Mac Gildea (T. M. U. 133) élève aspirant, Ecole d'Artillerie; David L. Garratt (S. S. U. 66) American Red Cross ; H A. Webster (S. S. U. 2) 1st. Lieut. U. S. Sanitary Corps; R. Curtis (S. S. U 14) ; S. Law (S. S. U. 14), H. C. Roth (S. S. U. 14) F. A. O. C.; Douglas P. Maxwell (S. S. U. 2) U. S. A. A. S.; John Craig (S. S. U. 2) 45e Brigade d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau ; C. A. Blackwell (S. S. U. 64) 52e Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie; R. B. Hyman (T. M. U. 397) 52e Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie ; Harry W. Patterson (T. M. U. 133) 52e Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie ; Benj. Carpenter (T. M. U. 133) French Aspirant d'Artillerie; John W. Ames (S. S. U. 2) 45e Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie; Arthur Dallin (S. S. U. 1) 32e Rég. d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau ; J. H. Canney (S. S. U. 4) 32° Reg. d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau ; William M. Barber (S. S. U. 3) Aspirant French Artillery L. Pumpelly (Hdq.) American Red Cross ; R. H. Osborne (S. S. U. 12) ; R. B. Varnum (S. S. U. 3)1st. Lieut. U. S. Signal R. C. ; James M. White (S. S. U. 1) Lieut. Gas Service A. E. F. ; Vincent E. Heywood (S. S. U. 17) 1st. Lieut. A. S. Signal R. C. ; Ora R. McMurray (S. S. U. 17) 1st. Lieut. A. S. Signal R. C. ; John Woodbridge (S. S. U. 66) U. S. A. A. S.; Roland W. Dodson (T. M. U. 184) 52e Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie; Charles H. Fabens (T. M. U. 526) 32e Rég. 21e Brigade Ecole d'Artillerie; C. N. Shaffer (T. M. U. 397) 2e Lieut. American Mission Mallet Reserve ; Frank W. Holmes (T. M. U. 526) American Mission, Mallet Reserve J. F. Fitzpatrick (S. S. U. 13) U. S. A. A. S. ; Robert E. Graf, Jr. (S. S. U. 13) U. S. A. A. S.; Charles V. McArdell (S. S. U. 6) U. S. A. A. S. ; Robert D. Caney T. M. U. 526, American Red Cross ; E. J. Curley (S. S. U. ) Aspirant French Artillery ; Edward D. Kendall (S. S. U. 2) Will E. Daggett (S. S. U. 27) A. R. C. ; Edwin M. Noyes (S. S. U. 28) Met'l Div. S. C. Army Signal School; William A. Honens (S. S. U. 14) U. S. A. A.S. ; C. Porter Kuykendall (S. S. U. 68) U. S. A. A. S. ; Herbert E. Williams (S. S. U. 14) U. S. A. A S. ; Jerome Preston (S. S. U. 15) U. S. A. A. S. ; William T. Eoff (S. S. U. 18) Italian Service A. R. C. ; H. G. Best (T. M. U. 526) American Red Cross; W. J. Bingham (S. S. U. 30 and 2) 1st. Lieut. U. S. A. A. S.; Franklin A. Thomas (Headquarters) U. S. A. A. S. ; Lieut. Rodocanachi (S. S. U. 2) William J. Losh (S. S. U. 14 et 10) 1st. Lieut. U. S. A. A. S. ; Robert T. W. Moss. (Chef de Parc) American Red Cross; Henry C. Wolfe (T. M. U. 526) Italian Service; Robert Stinson (T. M. U. 526) Italian Service A. R. C. ; Francis C. Jones (T. M. U. 526) Italian Service A. R. C. ; Leslie Scott Shipway (S. S. U. 14) Italian Service A. R. C. ; Merrill W. Humphrey (T. M. U. 184) Italian Service A. R. C.

AFS Bulletin Number Fifty-Four