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What shall we say of them, the dead who died
Upon the fields of France to crush the foe ?
How shall we show our pity, and our pride ?
How shall we crown their glory and their woe ?
Not by the means of futile words of praise ---
The nameless dead do never ask this gift ---
Not by the splendid monuments we raise,
Not by the half-mast flags we sadly lift :
But let this be their glory, be their due;
Let but their single thot speak for them here
In that rich moment when they gave, each knew,
E'en as he lost the things he'd held most dear,
That, matter not what be life's unseen plan,
He'd played his part, and proved himself a man.





Report has reached the American Field Service that George Waite Goodwin (old S.S.U. 69) was killed the latter part of July by collision with another aeroplane. He had recently received his commission of Second Lieutenant in the Air Service. Goodwin joined the Field Service in July, 1917 and served three months in Section 69. He was a graduate of Yale University, twenty two years of age, and lived in Albany and Glens Falls, New York.


Stafford Leighton Brown was killed on October first, 1918, in an aeroplane accident near Mantes. Brown joined the American Field Service in March 1917 and served in Sections 17 and 19 until he was released in October to join the aviation service. He was a graduate of Dartmouth and his home was in Newton Center, Massachusetts.



Fred A. Hannah, who joined the Field Service in the summer of 1917, was killed at the front September 20, during an air raid. A large calibre bomb fell within a few feet of him while he was seeking shelter, and he was so severely injured that he died within ten minutes. In the same raid, Martin M. Muldoon received two wounds from éclat.

The death of "Shorty" Hannah, as he was affectionately called by all, has robbed the section of one of its best-beloved members and one who at all times could be relied upon to uphold the finest traditions of the old Field Service. Indefatigable in times of action when his services were most needed, he set an example of devotion to duty which all sought to follow. He was a comrade whose memory will increase rather than diminish with the passing of time.

Fred Hannah joined Old Seventeen in Condo-en-Barries early in July, 1917, and soon had won the love and esteem of all who were privileged to know him. He was with the section in Ville-sur-Cousance when Old Seventeen won its first citation. Later he went with them into the Champagne and during the remainder of the year saw much service, until the section went en repos during the late winter.

When Old Seventeen rushed with its division to meet the Hun assault in the Somme last March, Hannah distinguished himself by his fearless devotion to duty. He was the best driver in the section and his car was always kept in perfect running order. When carrying the wounded he was as gentle as could be in easing his car over ruts and shell holes and it can truly be said of him that when a jolt was unavoidable, Hannah felt the jolt as keenly as the blessés. It was due to such work as "Shorty" did in bringing back wounded from the first lines that the section received its Croix de Guerre citation in this action. In fact, when the Germans captured Castel, Shorty remained to save some wounded from capture and barely avoided capture himself, leaving the town at the moment the Germans were entering it, and being, with one other car, the last to leave Castel.

At the time that Sherman L. Conklin was killed in the Villers-Cotteret forest, it was Hannah who went to the shelled poste and recovered Conklin's body, after some difficulty.

Perhaps Time may somewhat mitigate the bitterness of Hannah's loss, but it can never efface the brightness of his memory, nor, though some other driver be sent us in his stead, can anyone ever take the place he leaves so vacant in our midst. He gave his life in the merciful service in which he devoted his best energies, and of him it can be said, in the words so contemptuously thrown at the Christ on the Cross

"He saved others, but he could not save himself."

Fortunately, "Marty" Muldoon was not severely injured, one piece traversing his arm, a second piece of éclat lodging in his side.



           TO FRANCE

Across the fields and valleys gay
Far bugle calls ring out today,
Hark! They are calling!
For to the dim horizon's end
The battle lines of France extend
In strife appalling.

France, your sons have heard the call
Now, your lines by town and wall
Fast are gaining;
See your ranks --- horizon blue
Winning Victory for you,
Death disdaining,

Hear the bursting of the shells,
Where the smoke and tumult tells
Its grim story
Of the charge --- on hill and plain,
Where your valiant armies gain
Lasting glory.

With your allies ---on you go,
Driving back the stubborn foe,
While your firing
Crushes their opposing ranks,
Now their center and their flanks
Are retiring.

France, your courage is to all
An inspiration and a call,
Brave and glorious;
And beside you we shall fight
Till the bugle calls of Right
Ring victorious.

Wm. Cary SANGER, Jr.
1st Lieut. Inf.
(Formerly member of S.S.U. 9).

France. September 9th, 1918.




Dear Editor the Bulletin,

I've a confession to make. I've read every copy of the Bulletin, with the exception of one or two issues that missed me in the mail, since the publication was originated, and I've enjoyed every contribution in every issue, and in spite of it all I've never shown the old Field Service spirit by trying to "do my bit" towards keeping it going full blast. But I am, even at this late hour, going to try to make amends for my former delinquency by inflicting an occasional brain-child on you, and I'm starting today with the enclosed allegedly humorous "gripe."

Ed., can you give me a little information concerning processes to be gone through to obtain back numbers of the Bulletin? There are some sad gaps in my files, due to retreats, section-mates and whatnot, that I'd like to fill. The Bulletin has earned, and continues to earn, a place of importance in the History of the Great War, and in those happy days to come I want my files to be complete, for the benefit of envious neighbors as well as for my own enjoyment.

I can't help mentioning one article in No. 61 that I read with unholy delight. It was a criticism by J. W. C., chiefly of some verse by Mr. Darrah. But, Ed., you ought to tell J. W. not to be too harsh with Dave, because the boy really means well. I know, for I used to bunk with him at Soissons, in the good old camion days.

Best of luck to the Bulletin, and may it ever continue to warm the cockles of our hearts.

Very sincerely yours,

J. P. FLETCHER, formerly T.M.U. 133



Dear Post Offis:

Please sir, Mr. Post Offis, dont go and get mad at me becaus of this here missle --- I mean missive --- becaus honest, Mr. Post Offis, I aint kickin or nothin. I just thought Id rite and let you know I dont get no mail any more at all. Why gosh, Mr, Post Offis, I aint seen a letter with my home town postmark on it in so long Ive durn near forgot where I live. I know my folks aint much of a hand at ritin letters Mr. Post Offis, but they did promis to rite to me once in a while if anybody married or got born or died or anythin, and the only calamity Ive heard about was in that letter I got in June, Mr. Post Offis, about my brother in law settin down in the poison ivy. They jacked me up in that letter for not anserin the ethers they rote, too, but I ask you, Mr. Post Offis, how could I anser them if I never got them ? I did get a Xmas box in April that was mailed in November, Mr. Post Offis, that had a note in it that said somethin about some other boxes that I never got. There was some candy in it too, Mr. Post Offis, that my kid sister made, and even if it was kind of old, the piece I got was fine.

Mr. Post Offis, if youd of been here yesterday when the mail truck come in, youd of seen a sight to make you cry your eyes out, and every day its the same. Geer was a-fussin with the innards of a Ford, and Slats and Sam and Marty was a-bangin each others noses in a game of muggins, and Mack, he was a-cussin a frenchman, and most all of us was engaged in useful and legitymate occupaytions, when up rolled the mail wagon and one of the frenchmen on it yelled out "Ho men, give way" or words to that effect. Mr. Post Offis; you ought to of seen them boys faces light up with joy as they piled out. Why, Mr. Post Offis, even the crap game broke up And then that frenchman drug out a sack that looked like it got in to his wagon by mistake, Mr. Post Offis, it was that limp and sickly lookin. Mack he hunted around in it a while and finaly found two post cards, and straight goods, Mr. Post Offis, one of them was for one of our frenchmen and the other must of been rote to some skate in another company, becaus he aint in ours. Us boys was real dissapointed about it too, Mr. Post Offis and we thought maybe if youd look around your offis you might find somethin for some of us. Maybe it fell behind your desk or somethin.

Mr. Post Offis, please sir, if this here letter looks kind of uneducated to you dont pay it no mind, because honest, I used to spell good, and once I won a gold meddle for usin good grammer, but I loaned it to my brother one night to make a hit with his best girl and I aint never seen it since, so I guess she soaked it. The reason Ive forgot some of my learnin is becaus I dont never get to use my brain none now, becaus I dont get no mail to read, and I cant rite to no one that aint rote to me yet, can I now, Mr. Post Offis ? Why, they might think I was tryin to get fresh or somethin. I wouldnt of said nothin about all this only that I wanted to kind of explane why I maybe dont use good language no more.

Mr. Post Offis, please understand I aint tryin to bawl you out or nothin, becaus honest, Mr. Post Offis, there aint nothin further from my mind. I just feel hurt becaus I dont get no mail. Hoping you are the same, I am,

                   Yours truely,

Private J. P. FLETCHER.



Old Seventeen (now S.S.U. 635) is the first S.S.U. and the first Old Field Service section to work on territory reconquered from the Germans for the first time since captured by the Huns in 1914, according to the belief of its members. The division to which Seventeen is attached was one of the few French divisions selected to work in liaison with the irresistible American divisions that wiped out the hernia of Saint Mihiel in 27 hours, and Seventeen was the only S.S.U. that operated in that attack. It was the first time the veterans of the section had had the opportunity of witnessing at close hand the fighting quality of American troops and the demonstration has convinced all that it is going to be "hell, heaven or Hoboken" by Christmas --- 1919. There was a dash and eager earnestness about the American troops that swept all before them and it was a pleasing sight to see the long lines of prisoners going to the rear escorted by a few widely-grinning Yankee youths.

Curiously enough, Jefferson Coolidge who was transferred from the section into infantry only a few weeks ago, went over the top for the first time in this attack, in a division next to the French division to which he was so long attached with the section, and a chance meeting between Coolidge and "Abe" Lutz at a front line poste was one of the many pleasant things that came from the attack, in which the losses, to both American and French were incredibly small.

Eddie Cheer, Jim Hunter and Johnny Ward are late permissionnaires who have returned from Aix with a tale of a weird boat ride in which one boat sank in the middle of the lake, leaving Ward with a Belgian lieutenant his hands. Eventually all were hauled from the water, but in the excitement Ward fed an amber cigarette holder and a watch to the fastidious fish.

Old Seventeen now is the proud possessor of a genuine, full-grown, honest-to-goodness piano and a moving picture machine that, unfortunately will need a little nursing before it will move. Both were unintentional gifts from fast-fleeing Huns. As the section graphaphone has been hors de combat for some time and a new one has not yet been obtained, the piano furnishes pleasant amusement, especially in the long evenings.

Scotty Palmer and Bunk Bridget succombed to Spanish grippe and languished in a French hospital during the Saint Mihiel attack --- much to their chagrin.

Flapjack Tellier has departed to the base camp, U. S. A. A. S., and his place has been taken by Jim Delkin who, oddly enough was a schoolmate of "Abe" Lutz in the wilds of Seattle, Washington. from which both hail.

S.S.U. 17 (635).




Ten more members of the service appear on this year's list of casuals, bringing the total up to quite a respectable number. This will entitle families of the extinguished to place a gold star apiece on their service flags ; and the, service has been congratulated by the French general staff which states that in the three years previous the French army was unable to boast of half this quota. Suitable decorations will be awarded. The following is a list of the fallen to whom the service as a whole, and the sections themselves cannot be too grateful.

Corp. 2nd. Hand, Henry Ambitious Getemup, killed in action; grenade, early roll-call.

Pvt. K. P. Scullery, Cook ; died of wounds, after two days service in the field.

Mechanic, out-classed, Axel Hardboiled Sparepartz ; pined away, lack of companionship and exercise.

Pvt. 1st. class, Albert Glorioso Snapshot, accidentally killed while photographing a French gun in action; leaves six rolls undeveloped films, miscellaneous souvenirs, and four section mascots ; also extra service stripes and chevrons.

Pvts., 2nd class, Hannibal Tippler, Philip Fuller, and Ralph Alway Gurgle; destroyed by shell, long-range, which entered buvette causing damage to other bottled goods as well.

Pvt. 2nd class, Barny D. Speedway, accidentally squashed; camion collision.

Pvt. Unclassified, Tulliver Hardluck ; suffocation, American gaz-mask.

(See Front page for picture of graveyard.)



Six members of S.S.U. 9999, who have been awaited by their comrades for some time, rejoined their section today. They say they were at Aix-les-Bains.



Two members of S.S.U. 4411, who last night distinguished themselves by unusual conduct, have been placed upon corvée for two weeks. They were also requested to clean up the mess and clear out the bottles. Fellow members of the section have presented them whith nick-le-plated tire-bouchons in recognition and remembrance of their actions.



Woman's section Y. Y. U. 2, which has been performing corps d'Armee evacuation to S.S.U. 711 has been highly praised for their work. The boys say they are speedy and courageous.



It is announced that those wishing to transfer to other services may send in their applications to headquarters, from where they will be promptly returned to the section commanders.



Found, in the Club Rooms at 21 rue Raynouard, a pair of gold-mounted spectacles in a case marked "Pinkham and Smith Company --- Boston ". Kindly inquire for same at the office of the Bulletin.



We learn that Henri Werleman, S.S.U. 628 (old 8) is at the A. R. C. Military Hospital No. 1 at Neuilly. James A. Gamman, formerly of S.S.U. 13, now a member of the Foreign Legion, is also there. Both are progressing finely and are in excellent spirits. While their wounds are not serious yet they are confined to their beds and it is likely to be some little time before they are convalescent.

Sedley C. Peck who was a member of the Balkan section 10 and subsequently transferred to the air service was injured recently in an aeroplane accident and is now at Base hospital N° 6.



This ambulance, before its capture in June 1918, formed part of S. S. U. 621 (old 65). It was donated by Mrs. Jacob Kamm of Portland, Oregon, and went to the front September 19, 1917.



Charles Henry Fiske S.S.U. 3 2nd. Lieut., 308th Infantry, Now at Artillery School.
Lewis Chapman Gilger S.S.U. 69 2nd. Lieut., Student Co. No. 4 Camp Johnston, Fla.
Allyn Ryerson Jennings S.S.U. 3 Ensign (Pilot) U.S. Naval Air Station, Cape May, U.S.A.
Thomas Patterson Campbell S.S.U. 66 2nd. Lieut. Flying Corps, Aviation Service, U.S.A.
Ross A. Cohn S.S.U. 69 Eleve Aspirant, 115° Brigade, Ecole d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau.
Samuel H. Colton S.S.U. 1 1st. Lieut. U.S. Air Service American E.F. France.
Philip S. Davis T.M.U. 184 2nd. Lieut. Ordnance Department, American E.F.
Charles Newell Eaton T.M.U. 397 Field Artillery School, Camp Zachary Taylor, U.S.A.
Joseph Gray Estey T.M.U. 537 Student, Marine Aviation U.S.A.
Ira Barnes Hyde Jr. T.M.U. 133 Infantry, Machine Gun Officers' Training Camp. U.S.A.
Lucien Charles Lance T.M.U. 526 2nd. Lieut. Military Pilot, U.S. Army Air Service American E.F.
Charles B. Lindeman T.M.U. 133 Unassigned - In Draft.
Paul Dudley Lovett S.S.U. 16 2nd. Lieut. American Red Cross. Paris.
Daniel Brenner Lunt S.S.U. 27 Pvt. U.S. Army Ambulance Service. American E.F. with the Italian Army.
Denley J. Parr T.M.U. 184 Lieut. Ordnance Dept. 3 Co, 6 P.O.D. Btn P.O. 717, American E.F.
Walter Scott Peterson S.S.U. 3 2nd. Lieut. Pilot Air Service, A.S.S.O.R.C.; A.E.F.
Howard H. Powel S.S.U. 2 Capt. U.S.A. Attached R.A.F. B.E.F. (O.A.S.) A.E.F.
Harold Gleason Pratt T.M.U. 133 Checking Clerk, U.S. Shipping Board, U.S.A.
Robert S. Read S.S.U. 2 Ensign, Naval Aviation, Dunkerque, France.
George Edward Rehm S.S.U. 12 32° Regt. 21e Brigade, Ecole Militaire d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau.
Randolph Rogers S.S.U. 8 Sgt. K Co. 38th U.S. Infantry American E.F.
Rev. George St-John Rathbun S.S.U. 17 Hoosac School, Hoosac, N.Y. U.S.A.
Horatio Rodman Rogers S.S.U. 27 Pvt. 1st, cl. U.S. Tank Corps, Co. C, 326th.
John Rogers Hurlburt T.M.U. 526 1st. Lieut. U.S. Aviation Service A.P.O. 707, A.E.F.
Albert Nalle S.S.U. 3 1st. Lieut. Field Artillery A.E.F.
James Allan O'Neill S.S.U. 2 1st. Lieut. 15th Machine Gun Batt'n American E.F.


Robert J. Fitzgerald (S. S.U. 1) was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross on October 5th. He is serving with Section 625 U. S. A. A. S.


Word has come that Clifford W. Wolfe (S. S. U. 14) who has been missing since August is a prisoner of war. His address is Gefangenenlager, Langensalza, Thuringen, Germany. Wolfe was serving with the U. S. A. A. S. Section 632.


John W. Ames (S. S. U. 2) serving as aspirant in French Artillery was wounded recently in action.



Thayer Robb (S.S.U. 33) Capt. Infantry; J. W. Clark (S.S.U. 3) Aspirant, French Artillery; A. D. Dodge (S.S.U. 8) American Red Cross ; W. H. Richards (S.S.U. 17) 1st Sgt. U. S. A. A. S.; Sidney C. Doolittle (S.S.U. 68) U. S. A. A. S. ; Frank Marsden Fox (S.S.U. 29) U. S. A. A. S. ; Stuart B. Kaiser (S.S.U. 29) U. S. A. A. S. ; Edward D. Kneass. (S.S.U. 10) Ecole d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau ; B. P. Eldred, Jr. (S.S.U. 66) 115e Brigade, Fontainebleau ; Robert B. Hyman (T.M.U. 242) 52e Brigade, Fontainebleau; Charles L. Youmans (T.M.U. 184) Air Service, A. E. F.; Warren F. Lawrence (T.M.U. 537) Air Service, A. E. F. ; William C. Canby (T.M.U. 133) Air Service, A. E. F. ; Edwin Miles Noyes (S.S.U. 28) 2nd Lieut. S. C. O. S. O., A. E. F. ; William C. Towle (S.S.U. 70) Adams Express; V. C. Neville-Thompson (T.M.U. 133) Motor Trans. Corps, A. E. F.; W. W. Kellett (T.M.U. 133) French Artillerie, U. S. A. A. S. ; William M. Barber (S.S.U. 3) Aspirant French Artillery; Charles A. Nason (S.S.U. 511) U. S. A. A. S.; John W. Greene (S.S.U. 588) U. S. A. A. S.; Phil. T. Sprague (S.S.U. 8) Chemical Warfare Service, A. E. F. ; A. H. Manley (T.M.U. 526) U.S. Air Service; Edwin B. Ackerman (S.S.U. 32) American Red Cross; John Craig (S.S.U. 2) Elève Aspirant, Ecole Militaire, Fontainebleau; N. Leveillie (S.S.U. 65) U. S. A. A. S.; Perry S. Patton (T.M.U. 133) U.S. Aviation; W. Howard Renfrew (T.M.U. 526) U.S. Air Service; Norman S. Buck (T.M.U. 133) U.S. Air Service ; Bennett Wells (T.M.U. 526) 1st Lieut. U.S. Air Service.

7290 - S. P. I.. 27, RUE NICOLO - PARIS (XVIe)




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Morning, and the first grey light is dim,
         The east is red;
Slow from the hours of darkness comes the day
         As from the dead;
The greying road goes winding on ahead;
         The air is cool;
Across the way some bird begins to sing
         Beside the pool.

Across the stretching fields the mist still drifts,
         Damp is the hay;
An old and bent-backed peasant towards his field
         Slow takes his way.
Back of the lines the work and toil of day
         Has come again,
Bringing the ever-present thot of war,
         And strife and pain.

Robert A. DONALDSON, S.S.U. 636.



            NIGHT POEM

How brightly shines the moon tonight --
Our own buck-private poet sighs --
How silvery its golden light,
How beautifully it fills the skies!
O ! lovely night, that, calm and cool,
I gaze on thru these window panes ---
"Hey, douse that light, you  . . . . fool!"
"Oh, damn those German bombing planes !"

R. A. D.



That Lieutenant Battershell's much quoted Hunk o' Tin still "goes marching on" is indicated by the following additional verses by some unknown author which recently appeared in the "Aesculapian Bulletin".

The original poem of Lieut. Battershell first saw the light in the Bulletin of September 22nd, 1917.

"You may talk of shifting gear
When you're riding far from here
An' you're sent to pick up wounded and then beat it;
But when it comes to pluggin'
You can keep right on a-chuggin'
'Cause FEET works and your hands is free to steer it
Where the roads ain't half the time
A-servin' o' their purpose. ---Yes, it's grime !
But of all the amb 'lance crew
The surest one I knew
Was our crashin', slammin', bashed-in HUNK O'TIN.
It was Din ! Din ! Din
You five and ten cent mouse-trap 'UNK O'TIN
 . . . .  . . . .  . . . .  . . . .  . . . .  . . . .  . . . .  . . . .  . . . .  . 

Though I've damned and cussed and prayed yer,
By the 'Enry Ford as made yer,
I takes my 'at off to yer ! -'UNK O'TIN."




When I hear the high pitched singing
Of a German shell a-winging,
Towards the little spot of ground I'm lying on.
Do I proudly stand up fearless,
Quite confident I'm smearless,
Until the bloomin' shell has come and gone ?
Altho I've seen some do it I'd not not if I knew it,
For its nix on the Heroic Stuff for me.


When I hear the motor humming,
Of a German plane a-coining,
For to drop some pills around the town I'm in.
Do I stay beneath the covers,
While overhead "Fritz" hovers,
And merely look around me with a grin ?
Well perhaps there's nothing to it
Maybe there 're some who do it,
But its nix on the Heroic Stuff for me.


When I have chanced to find a dud
Lying buried in the mud
Of the road I travel over every day,
Do I lose my princely manner,
And pat it rudely with a spanner,
Or pick it up and throw it out the way ?
Well, perhaps its 'cause I'm lazy,
Or maybe I'm not quite crazy
But-- -its nix on the Heroic Stuff for me.

S. C. DOOLITTLE (S.S.U. 68).


S.S.U. 000 P
ar B. C. M., Paris

Kaiser Wilhelm II
Gott Knows Where,

Your Imperial Majesty

I've been planning to communicate with you for a long time, and I sometimes think it would have saved a lot of trouble if we had been more frank with each other from the first --- if we'd talked things over more fully before getting into this mess. However, it has got beyond a joking matter now, and I am going to tell you what I think --- straight out.

Understand, I didn't want this war --- any more than you did. I simply grabbed the chance, because I wanted to get to Paris. And you the same, I take it. Mind, I'm not crowing because it was I that got there ; but you had an awful head-start, you know. Like you, I once took a trip clear up to the front line (in a quiet sector); but on the whole, I'm just as glad to be a little further to the rear as a general thing, eh ? Also, I've had a lot of cheap publicity in the home-town papers. Nothing to compare with yours, maybe, but quite sufficient. All this we have in common.

Oh no, it hasn't been bad in many ways, but to tell you the truth, I'm pretty blame well fed up with it. And I've got a suspicion that you're commencing to get fatigued yourself a little. Come off, you may as well admit it, Majesty.

Now he reasonable. We've got all we're ever going to get by this war. You know that as well as I. Though that isn't a fair way of putting it --- you've got a good deal more coming to you than I have.

Yes, and I leave it to you --- what's autocracy worth ? You'll confess it isn't all it's cracked up to be --- with Ludendorf and Hindenburg and that gang always around. I know what those army officers are --- we've had some in the section. And that's not mentioning the Hohenzollern family and the Reichstag. You've had your troubles all right, and I tell you, it won't buy you anything.

But to get back to the war. Really, Majesty, it seems like it's over-stepped the mark. Take gas, for instance. Hasn't there been enough of it ?

Besides, we're not killing the right people. For example, the prohibitionists --- ther're more of them in the army, and say, Bill, how'd you like to have a mug of lager ---the kind they used to brew before the war, I mean ?

As to your own soldiers, you can't keep 'em going forever on black bread and bad beer. "Hic, Hike, Hock" has been their motto too long. Some day they're going to lay down on you, you see.

Look here. This is the way it stands with me. I've had enough of it. Hell, I've done all the travelling I care to ; I've got all the souvenirs I want ; and to be perfectly frank, my line of bull has started to weaken --- just the way yours has. People back home don't swallow it the way they used to.

Yours for Peace,

                                   L. W.



We are up and off at 6:00 A. M., our speed a little retarded by our sacks of Boche souvenirs and our dog family. Yet these slight hindrances are more than offset by the fortunate possession of our indispensable host of French interpreters with whose aid we arrive in an hour at  . . . . . , our first stop.

We have parked our voitures, --- " parked ", I said, for we were invariably used to sink them in a barnyard. A moment's pause, my reader, for here you must meet "Scotty", next our valiant "Marshal de Logis ", then Monsieur R., satellite to " Mon Lieutenant ", and chief of interpreters, Baldy. Presently, Baldy essays to descend. He is a ruddy, stocky, middle-aged little man with massive neck and block. He has a little loosely attached tuft of hair on one front corner of his spacious head, and more beginning from the top farther back and extending downward on his sturdy neck. His general facial expression is that of a little girl up on the platform about to speak her first piece, except that his eyes are always blinking as though he were looking directly at the sun, while his head bobs around perpetually. Now he has decided to descend. He places one foot forward as he opens the door of the voiture. Before advancing the other, he wonders if the first move was as graceful and appropriate as it should have been and he glances all around to discover if the world saw and approved. Not quite certain, he glances quickly at all parts of his coat to see if they are in place, leaving the scrutiny of his pants and shoes until later. Then with remarkable speed, considering the importance of the operation, he steps upon the ground itself. Now after applying his handkerchief to both hands and his honest brow, he deliberates whither he will walk. First, he arranges his face preparatory to smiling and then hunts around after people to smile at. His methodical impartiality accords to each of us, smiling of a uniform degree of sweetness and equality of duration, while he likewise divides very fairly among us his stock of English phrases. We'll leave harmless Baldy, for here comes another who knows enough English to be a pest. He accosts some one slowly and distinctly, Ees it possibl', pour vous, to bring my bôite, from ze voiture, to here ?"

We pass to the next important event. At 4:00 o'clock the next morning, the Médecin Divisionnaire happened through the town. With his kindly and beneficent countenance, he walked into camp to greet us with his usual "Bon jour, mes enfants." We instinctively sprang at attention as soon as we could, but this was a disadvantage for a few of us, who had already left our cards to seek the arms of Morpheus.

After breakfast comes the call for potato peelers. This is not a volunteer affair, but a draft. Peck, a long, lank, section-pecked youth arrives late and relates his sad experiences at a coöp. To make this clear I must explain the situation. Since we don't have access to packages or to the Y.M.C.A.'s of the regular army, we are occasionally driven to misplace our hopes in French coöperatives. You can usually tell how many things, or rather, if there is anything in stock, by the number of French soldiers on the outside. If there are but twenty-five or so, it is certain they have only the regular stock of blue thread, buttons, soap boxes, and poilu mustard. But if you see fifty, they may have fromage or confiture. If there are over a hundred, they have also ham, French tobacco, sardines. The chocolate goes to the ten most successful scrappers at 7:00 A.M. Well, it seems that Peck had jostled and struggled for about an hour in this sea of blue and had gotten within six feet of the window. At that unhappy moment the draft sergeant arrived to summon Peck to peel his three potatoes. "I'm almost there", pleaded Peck, give me a couple of minutes, please". "It makes no difference", says Ott, "Orders is orders".

Enough of the tragic incidents of war. "Mail" calls some one, and the customary stampede ensues. It is the usual story, a sack or two of Goldie's rubbish, flavored by a few letters. I will tell you how the curse came upon Goldie. The underlying cause was his literary tastes, for he thought to advertise in a French paper for something to read. The deluge is not over yet ; he measures the stuff by the basketsful. But he glories in it and will approach one with a grand gesture, "Do you know", he declares, "that half the world would be in darkness, were not truth forced upon it?" Before the astonished listener has time to critically evaluate this amazing assertion, he reopens fire, --- "and that love is a trap in which woman is the bait". Fortunately, this increasing avalanche is quenched by two simultaneous orders, first to mangé, then to move.

Our outfit soon lands in a village of abris and débris. The most exciting events here are the thrilling experiences of our section guards. Foremost is old "Pop" Burroughs, now stripped of his full arguments and interminable beard. He first sees that "Ted" Norton and R.W. Emerson are snugly tucked in bed together, while "Grif" has gone around extinguishing all radio watches as a safeguard against avions. Soon "Pop" hears suspicious noises and creeps up with empty pistol cocked. Now, as he approaches, still unheard, his breath comes short while his trembling hand tightens its grip. Then he dashes fearlessly headlong and discovers some mules chewing their cuds.

Repos life has become almost interesting when there arrives the enlivening order "Back to the Front", and we depart from Somewhere to Elsewhere in France.

S.S.U. 630.



        To the Editor of the Bulletin

Here are the facts concerning two old men of Section 4 that might perhaps be of interest: G. Robert C. Wigand, old section 4 (" Wiggy" of the "citadel of Verdun" fame) writes to the section, now 627, that he feels as though he would never be through receiving instruction. He became a cadet for artillery eleven months ago, and after three months of training received his commission as 2nd. Lieutenant. For some time he worked at a training centre on the staff, and then later went to a school for aerial observers, from which he was "ejected" on account of bad eyesight. He then went to a special school on gas, and now is attached to a regiment with which he expects to go to the front very shortly.

Edmund Randolph Purves --- than whom there never was nor will be a more skilled driver for ruthlessly smashing down camions --- is now at Saumur, learning to be an observer. Far be it from us to suggest, but "Neddy" was becoming corpulent

Philip WINDSOR, S.S.U. 627.


U.S. Naval, Air Station, Italy.

I have been up here at Porto Corsini for some time now and it is very interesting work. Up to the present we have done a lot of flying and some of us have just been picked for work on chasse planes. They are all old ambulance men : C. W. Gates, A. P. Taliaferro, E. M. Smith and myself. Up to now I have been driving a bomber and have been having the time of my life.

Tinkham is driving a bomber for the present though he will probably get a chasse later on. So far the ambulance men have done very well. Of our personnel those whose names you might remember are Walter White (S.S.U. 4), C. W. Gates (S.S.U. 13), R. H. Clark (S.S.U. 10), E. I. Tinkham (T.M.U. 526), E. M. Smith (T.M.U. 526), A. A. Baker (T.M.U. 526) and A. P. Taliaferro (T.M.U. 526).

Please give my best regards to all whom I know.

Kimberly STUART.
Oct. 4, 1918.


Tobyhanna, Pa.

Dear Friends

Am now hard at work, with the Tanks, but would much rather be back with the "old bunch".

We left France on May 29th, 1918, but on May 31st we were struck by three torpedoes and our boat sank in twenty-four minutes. Did not have much time to get away. When we received orders to leave the ship we all took to the water, but soon got into life boats. We were on the water eighteen hours before we were picked up. There were two U.S. Destroyers that found us. We were brought back to a French port, and sailed again on June 5th. We were four hundred and eighty miles from land when we were struck. All my pictures and all of the many things I was taking back to America are all "Somewhere in the Atlantic". We lost everything.

But I am coming back with the first bunch of "Tankers", and then, well, Fritz is sure going to get more H... than he has ever had, for we sure have some bunch. As Bill Corry (S.S.U. 13) says, " If you can't be a tank, then drive one."

Just remember me to all the fellows through the Bulletin and say I hope to he with them again soon.

Tank Instructor.



Walter H. Granata S.S.U. 27 Headquarters Det. U.S.A.A. S. with the Italian Army, Italy.
Fred Emerson Gale T.M.U 526 Sgt. Army Artillery Headquarters, 1st. Army France, A.E.F.
Ralph T. Johanson S.S.U. 65 Ensign, U.S.N.R.F. U.S.A.
G. M. Jones, Jr. S.S.U. 9 Ensign, U.S.N.R.F.; N.A. R.; U.S.A.
William H. Egan, Jr. S.S.U. 70 Midshipman, U.S. Naval Academy, Annapolis, Md.
Thomas C. Manton, Jr. T.M.U. 184 Cpl. 323 F.A. Hdqrs. Co. American E. F.
Harrison C. Bristoll S.S.U. 12 Cadet, Aviation. ; Camp Dick, Dallas, Tex.
Alfred Day Rathhone, 4th S.S.U. 69 2nd. cl. Seaman, U.S. Navy, U.S.A.
Henry Seton S.S.U. 8 2nd. Lieut. 22nd Infantry, U.S.A.
Robert Buchanan Smith S.S.U. 17 Not in service.
Frederick Lionel Spencer S.S.U. 65 Student Officer Naval Aviation, U.S.A.
Edward Nicholas Winslow T.M.U. 526 Sgt. Ordnance Dept. N.A A.P.O. 712, A.E.F.
Alfred R. Thompson S.S.U. 69 Not in service.
John H. Westcott Jr S.S.U. 9 Pvt. Infantry, Co. L, 107th, 27th Division, A.E.F.
John Harold Vickers S.S.U. 32 2nd Lieut. RA.F. England.
Henry Noble Cooper Jr. S.S.U. 65 2nd Lieut. A.A.U.S.A. A.P.O. 733, A..E.F.



The following is a complete list of former members of the American Field Service, Camion division, who were commissioned in that branch of the American Army:

Capt. P. B. K. Potter

Second Lieut.:

Francis S. F. Andrews John B. Mackinlay
Charles H. Bayley Thomas Means
John H. Brown Charles F. Meyer
Alan S. Browne Julian K. Morrisson
Robert A. Browning William B. Olmsted
Edward G. Bangs Donald Ordway
William E. Bown Richmond Ordway
Charles Caesar Arthur C. Payne.
Thomas H. Carothers Donald K. Percy.
Buford A. Clark Henry Z. Persons.
Albert M. Cowan Leonard M. Prince.
James W. Craig Earl D. Prudden.
Norman B. Curtice Arthur E. Ralston
Charles G. Curtiss Frank O. Robinson
Frederick J. Daly Martin C. Rhodes
Thomas H. Dougherty John P. Scott
Dows Dunham Harry B. Seymour
George L. Edwards Jr. Walter C. Sisson
Marshal J. England Chester N. Shaffer
Charles J. Farley John W. Storrs
Clayton C. Grandy George B. Struby
John P. Hahn Eugene K. Sturgis
Irving G. Hall Arthur Terry, Jr.
Dunbar M. Hinrichs Frank M. Talmadge
Aubrey F. Holmes Joseph M. Travis
Roy M. Hutchinson Raymond G. Urban
Millard P. Kaiser Francis J. Wakem
Horton P. Kennedy Goodwin Warner
Norman Kohlhepp Hoyne Wells
Leroy F. Krusi Roger W. Whitman
George R. Lamade John G. Wiggins
Frank E. Lansing Roy C. Wilcox
Nicolas C. Leidgen Morton H. Wilkinson
Selden M. Loring  




Malcolm T. Robertson who served with Section I in northern France and Belgium for five months during the spring and autumn of 1915 was killed in action on July 30th, 1918. Robertson was a student at Princeton, he was 23 years of age and his home was in Brooklyn, N.Y. The following details concerning his death have just come to hand. He enlisted in the 7th regiment of the National Guard in July 1917 and then transferred to the 165th U.S. Infantry in order to secure immediate service in France. He was attached to a trench mortar platoon in the headquarters company of his regiment. On July 30th as the regiment was advancing towards Sergy across the Ourcq river, they were attacked by German machine-gunners in a farm house just in front of their line. Volunteers were called for to go forward with the trench mortar to engage these machine-gunners and Robertson volunteered. The place chosen for the trench mortar was much exposed, some 100 yards in front of the regiment and the mortar squad only threw in a few shells when they in turn were heavily shelled and had to abandon the gun. They missed Robertson when they got to the rear but as soon as things quieted down his comrades went forward again with a stretcher expecting to find him wounded. They found him, however, lying dead by the gun, killed by a German shell.



Word has been receive] that Charles Henry Fiske 3rd has been killed in action. Fiske joined the American Field Service in August, 1916, and joined Section 3 soon afterwards. He went with that section to the Balkans in June 1917. He was soon after commissioned as 2nd Lieut. U. S. Infantry.



Thayer Robb (S.S.U. 33) has been promoted from 1st Lieut. to Capt. Infantry. Hugh Wilson McNair (S. S. U. 65) was severely wounded by a shell on October 5th, while serving with Section 622 U. S. A. A. S.



John Rogers Hurlburt T.M.U. 526 1st Lieut. Aviation Service, A. P. O. 707, A. E. F.
Wilberforce Taylor S.S.U. 16 Cadet Aviation, Americus Field, Georgia.
Kimberly Stuart S.S.U. 410 U. S. Naval Air Service, Porto Corsini, Italy.
Walter White S.S.U. 4 U. S. Air Service, Italy.
C. W. Gates S.S.U. 13 U. S. Air Service, Italy.
R H. Clark S.S.U. 10 U. S. Air Service, Italy.
E. I. Tinkham T.M.U. 526 U. S. Air Service, Italy.
E. M. Smith T.M.U. 526 U. S. Air Service, Italy
A. A. Baker T.M.U. 526 U. S. Air Service, Italy.
A. P. Taliaferro T.M.U. 526 U. S. Air Service, Italy.
Louis J. Baumer S.S.U. 27 Intelligence Dept. A. E. F.
Harold C. Gilbert T.M.U. 133 Lieut. Aviation, A. E. F.
Walter Hamilton Lillie S.S.U. 4 Lieut. Aviation, A. E. F.
G. F. Bass T.M.U. 133 Lieut. Air Service, A. E. F.
J. E. G. Fravell S.S.U. 64 Aspirant 28° Regt. d'Artillerie, 4e Batterie, Sect. 163.



Edward S. Storer (S.S.U. 13) U. S. A. A. S. ; C. F. Bass (T.M.U. 133) Lieut. U. S. Air Service ; Walter Hamilton Lillie (S.S.U. 10 and 4) Lieut. U. S. Aviation ; Harold C. Gilbert (T.M.U. 133 and 526) Lieut. U. S. Air Service ; Douglas M. Smith (T.M.U. 526) Eleve Aspirant, Fontainebleau; B. P. Eldred, Jr. (S.S.U. 66), 115e Brigade, Fontainebleau ; John B. Whitton (T.M.U. 133), 59e Brigade, Fontainebleau; Lansing Warren (S.S.U. 70 and 18) U. S. A. A. S.; Burnet C. Wohlford (S.S.U. 18) U. S. A. A. S.; William M. Barber (S.S.U. 3) Aspirant French Artillery ; Sidney C. Doolittle (S.S.U. 68) U. S. A. A. S. ; R. W. Gauger (S.S.U. 65) U. S. A. A. S. ; T. M. Brunson (T.M.U. 184) American Red Cross; H. H. Powell (S.S.U. 2) Capt U. S. A. S.

7290 - S. P. I.. 27, RUE NICOLO - PARIS (XVIe)




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The Bulletin takes particular pleasure in announcing the promotion of Major A. Piatt Andrew to Lieut-Colonel U. S. Army Ambulance Service.



The records of present activities of former members of the service although as yet not completed show from the 1788 at hand the following interesting data

U. S. Army Ambulance Service


U. S. Aviation


U. S. Motor Transport Corps.


U. S. Field Artillery


American Red Cross


French Artillery


U. S. Infantry


Naval Aviation


French Aviation


U. S. Navy


U. S. Engineers


U. S. Tank Corps


Royal Flying Corps






U. S. Signal Corps


U. S. Ordnance


U. S. Coast Artillery


English Army (miscellaneous)


U. S. Sanitary Corps


U. S. Medical Corps


U. S. Gas and Chemical Corps


U. S. Intelligence Service


U. S. Chaplains


U. S. Balloon Service


U. S. Anti Aircraft


Foreign Legion


U. S. Marines




The records show that 551 men have received commissions (or are cadets) in the U. S. Army. This is exclusive of the 73 aspirants French Artillery, 24 cadets English Royal Flying Corps, or 54 cadets Naval Aviation.



(Or whatever her name is).

On examining in the illustrated journals the portraits of the ladies who are christening our merchant fleet.


Is this the face that launched a thousand ships?
What wonder, Vessels, that you plunged in upside down,
Or sunk, half-loaded, in your native slips,
Leaving the crew and officers to drown;
Or later at the taunts of U-boats bold
To hide from off your prows the blush of shame
Took refuge underneath the waters cold!
Oh Liberty, what crimes are perpetrating in thy name!

L. W.



I went to sleep last night over the newspapers. I don't know how it happened --- and with so many interesting discussions going on! Over at the table at the end of the room the General Staff was deciding that the Germans would have to retreat everywhere from Belgium to the sea. The Albanian contingent was holding forth on the Bulgarian peace and the retreat of the Austrians from Lake Presba to El Bassan. Another group was discussing the Jugo-Slavs, another the Tcheco-Slavs and a third the rights of small nations. The, sporting element was betting on when President Wilson's 14 points would, reach 114, and one of the new members was humming "If you can fight like you can love, Good night German-e-e!"

As I said, I don't know how it happened. But I won't bother to investigate it ---particularly as I had to wait so long in the buvette for the evening communiqué...

I was surprised at first, at the surroundings ---a large hall, a huge mahogany table, and so many distinguished individuals. I found a smooth shaven idealistic man addressing me...

"So we look to you to settle this matter according to all the great principles laid down. It must be the first basis of a League of Nations... " (Ah, so that's what it was!)

"Well, I said, "trying to think up something apropos of principles, what about the cardinal principle --- Kanning the Kaiser?"

"I think that is arranged for," said a thick-bespectacled man, "All autocratic power has been taken away from him. We have left him only with the power to appoint the members of the Reichstag, and the Chancellor will, in the future, be held personally responsible to the Reichstag for his acts and for his tenure of office. The Kaiser in addition, must in the future hold himself personally responsible to this body. In addition, for the democratization of Germany, the German people have been given the inalienable right of the pursuit of Happiness."

"Have they found it yet?" morosely interposed a melancholy individual with a huge unkempt black beard---whom I instantly recognized as a Russian of the better class.

The bespectacled individual coughed discreetly.

"I have not been completely informed. But according to the latest communiqué from the Wilhelmstrasse, the pursuit is still going on."

"And Austria-Hungary", said a wily looking man who seemed to be addressed as "Count", "she will not be dismembered?"

I hastily racked my brain for a principle to fill the need.

"No", I said at last, "she will not be dismembered".

"But... " insinuatingly said a smooth looking individual with a carnation in his buttonhole. (An Italian, I surmised.)

"No ", I amended hastily, "She will not be dismembered. She may, of course, be slightly altered, ---taken apart, as it were, and then put together again, part of it as Italy Irredenta, part as Rumania, Russia, and Poland, and a few other pieces as Jugo-Slavia. But she would not be dismembered. We have (I thot this point up on the spur of the moment) no desire to interfere in the internal affairs of the Dual Monarchy".

"Ah, Jugo-Slavia!" exclaimed a non-descript individual...

"A mighty nation of homogeneous races, from Trieste to Monastir!"

Everyone looked blank.

"Perhaps", said the non-descript, "I should have said Jugo-Slovak".

"Ah", said everyone, with gleams of intelligence.

A delegate with fierce upturned moustaches, who was instantly recognized by his tchecked suit, broke in

"And Tcheco-Slavia, or Checko-Slavia, as some call it ? . ."

"Tcheco-Slavia", I said, hastily thinking up a good settlement according to liberal principles, "shall be free, and shall hereafter he known as Russia."

"Peace without victory ; no annexations, no indemnities ", mannered a foxy Bulgar.

"Agreed", I said heartily, wishing to advocate such well enunciated principles, "and meanwhile the Dobruja will go to Roumania."

Then things began to get a bit confused and hurried. I got principles from every direction. They were hurled so fast that I am afraid I had to improvise settlements somewhat.

"And Macedonia?... "

"Shall hereafter be known as Turko-Greece, and shall have Salonika returned to her..."

"And Denmark... "

"Schleswig-Holstein returned, with a north German province or two."

"Panama!" This from a dark complexioned individual in his native hat.

"Its President shall receive, along with Foch and Pershing, the Most Grand High Cross of the Order of Montenegro."

"And Congo-Free-State. "

"Shall join Montenegro in a Dual Republic."

A man in white bear skins shouted

"And what of North-Poleia!"

But I was not to be stumped now. I was getting on too fine.

"North-Poleia shall have a plebiscite. Anyone shall have the inalienable right to exist there if he can."

As all these decisions were taken a man with colored crayon quickly traced and filled in the new outlines on n huge map of the world that hung on the wall.

Alsace-Lorraine had gone to France long ago, and Luxembourg to Belgium. Russia was a bit swelled from having encompassed a large part of Turkey, while Palestine was colored with three golden balls. Poland was a mighty nation starting nowhere in particular and ending in the same place. Korea and Manchuria were colored Japanese. Constantinople was made a free port under the supervision of the League of Nations, with the sole restriction that German ships were never to be allowed to enter there from the signing of the treaty until eternity. Italy had an Irredentia large enough to accommodate half her former kingdom The continent of Africa bore the international colors of the League of Nations, being colored in the form of a bright Union Jack. Portugal was given n generous piece of ocean, North-Poleia was colored n brilliant independent snow white. The United States was swelled with pride. The meeting began to break up in great excitement and enthusiasm, everyone waving a new map of his country, everyone talking about the glorious vindication of principles, and the solid establishment of the League of Nations.

As I was crowding out with the rest of the enthusiastic throng, I stumbled across a melancholy individual who was winding a turban onto his head off a large bobbin. I recognized him as the Turk. He had been unspeakable all the meeting, having been unable to get in a single word.

"Alas", he said sadly, "all of the principles have been put into effect except one". His eyes wandered to the large map, and I followed his gaze, straining my eyes to see the little speck of Turkey, colored yellow, way off in Asia, the pink dab that was Austria-Hungary, the green little nation (far from Paris!) labelled "German Empire".

"And what is that one?" I asked.

"The right of small nations to exist."

The throng was shouting wildly. There was a loud booming, the bells were all ringing in celebration. I thought I caught the last of a heated argument between some delegates on Tcheco-Slavia, and the last humming lines of an American delegate...

"If you can fight like you can love, Good Night German-e-e!"

Suddenly the lights seemed to go out. The end of the song was broken off and followed by a triumphant rush for the stairway, and the sound of feet making four downward steps at a time came to me.

"Hooray!" I shouted enthusiastically, to join in the wild enthusiasm.

Somebody stumbled over me, and then jerked me to my feet.

"Hooray, if you want to, but I'm going down in the cellar. There's an air-raid, you fool, and the Gothas have just dropped one over by the church.

I stumbled after him, pulling my scattered brains together and awakening to the fact that the whole world mix-up wasn't settled after all...

R. A. D.



         With David D.
Who, says he's lost his Youth.
         Our advice
         To sacrifice
Poetic thoughts to truth.

         We regret,
         We fail to get
Much inspiration from the war,
         Es like me ---
         We seem to be
More childish than before

         Kill the time
         With child-like rhyme,
Or play a game of craps
         Our sadder Self
         Put on the shelf
"Till stakes are won --- perhaps.

         Old ideals
         Give way to meals
Which mark our highest ends.
         Lost ambish
         Save for one wish
A bottle (1) and some friends!

         Patience, Dave;
         If you'll behave
The way you really feel,
         Your Self will be
Astonishingly infantile.

         On ---
         Ward and down!
         Nor wear a frown
Because war's "vanquished" you :
         You may guess,
         We will confess
The damn thing beats us, too!


(1) Note to Ed:

Be sure to get this Bottle, Lord
knows we don't want a Battle.




Word has been received that Albert F. Gilmore has died of pneumonia. Gilmore joined the American Field Service in March, 1917, and went out with S. S. U. 16. After eight months service he was released to go into Aviation. Gilmore was 22 years of age. He was a student at the University of Wisconsin and his home was in Madison, Wisconsin.



Walter Lisle Harrison has been killed in an accident. Harrison joined the American Field Service in February 1917, serving in sections 12 and 3. After nine months he was released to go into Aviation. He was 22 years of age, a student at Oberlin University and his home was in Oberlin, Ohio.



Warren T. Kent, 1st Lieut, in Aviation has been killed in service. Kent joined the American Field Service in April 1917, was Com. Adj. of T. M. U. 251 until October 1917 when he resigned to join Aviation. He was a student at Cornell University and his home was in Clifton Heights, Pennsylvania.



Harry Patterson (T. M. U. 133) left for a French Battery on Wednesday.


Hugh Wilson McNair formerly of S. S. U. 65, now 622, who was severely wounded in the leg by a shell on October 5th was amputated at a front hospital last week.


Francis L. Jones (T. M. U. 133) and Raymond T. Hanks (T. M. U. 133) have entered the Ecole Militaire at Fontainebleau.


Harry K. James who joined the American Field Service in August and immediately afterwards enlisted in the U. S. A. A. S., is a prisoner of war at Camp Lazaret de Stargard, Pomeraine, Germany.


Charles R. Codman (S. S. U. 3) 2nd. Lieut. U. S. Air Service who was reported missing, is a prisoner of war at Camp Rastatt, Friedrichfeste.


P. Rhinelander (S. S. U. 9 and 19) in U. S. Aviation has been reported missing.



Along the roads bordered by palms and olive trees
Today Crusaders march.
What far and glorious voices call to them
From the immortal past,
What unseen banners float beside their own,
What hosts unguessed are marching at their side
In Bethlehem and Nazareth and in the Holy City.
Along time-hallowed paths their journey leads them
And they have known
The beauty and the magic of the hills and valleys there:
By day --- the sunlight on the sandy shore
Of the blue Mediterranean
Or the banks of the Jordan and the Lake of Galilee;
By night -- the stars,
The infinite stars, With their mystic, peaceful light
On the walls and roofs and streets of the little villages,
And on the hills and tranquil lakes of the Holy Land.
Stars of the night,
Far in the sky,
Guiding our brave Crusaders,
What tender and eternal promises you bring
Of life and hope and love
For all mankind.

1st. Lieut. Inf.
(formerly member of S.S.U. 9)

France, Sunday, September 29, 1918.


         TO BELGIUM

In those first appalling days
When across life's happy ways
Rolled the thunder and the flare
Of battle, sweeping earth and air,
In its fury storming down
Over valley, field and town;
Belgium, there you took your stand
To defend your sacred land
And humanity and all
Earth's free nations, great and small.
There you met the gathered might
Of the foe, your glorious fight
Gave your allies time to form
Their battle lines to meet the storm.
Yours the sacrifice and pain,
Yours the glory and the gain,
Though outnumbered in the strife,
Willingly you gave your life,
Bravely faced the countless hordes
Of guns and bayonets and swords,
Checked their furious attacks
Stopped their rush and held them back
Long enough to save mankind
From destruction, cruel and blind.
Belgium, your brave name shall be
Forever loved, forever free.
All the world shall give you praise
And in those returning days
Of happiness, when your domain
To you shall be restored again,
The great reward for your endeavor
Shall be your country --- free forever.

Wm. Cary SANGER, Jr.
1st Lieut. Inf.
(Formerly member of S.S.U. 9).

France. September 7th, 1918.



It is not strange that Mr. MacFee should choose such a title but it is strange that he should choose such a title for such a book: Tho' his characters are aliens, both from points of view of race (our race) and society (our million dollar society), they are not so much the aliens as one would suppose. They are men and women --- or more strictly speaking two men and one woman --- thoroly familiar to all of us. Mr. MacFee has made them real to us --- they ceased to be puppets when the germ of their origin came to the author. They play their roles in the fantastic comi-tragedy as solid, sturdy folk.

But 'tis not for this I am writing. An author may make, create, and operate live characters thru out the meshes of a lively "plot" ---direct their movements thru circumstance in quite feasible fashion --- and yet fail in his attempt. Mr. MacFee did not make this blunder. Why?

Style! Values in words, word formations --- beauty derived from expression of words. Not a guessed perfection but a healthy proportionate sense of correctness, fitness, of words. Too long have we been taught by our elders to regard "stylists" as something of the middle ages ---always of the age before our own. It may be well to give due recognition to Addison, Burke, Goldsmith, Johnson, Hunt, Scott, Lamb, Thackeray, Austen and the rest of our literary fathers. I am not one to begrudge them one line of praise in their favor. But must the hallowed past forever be thrown up to us as example to "copy" --- when there exists today such men of letters as Conrad, Masefield, and MacFee?

I will not hesitate in granting even an excess of praise to any man who may by a lavish use of imagination, and style conjure up such a work of stylistic art --- such as we find in MacFee's "Aliens". The author has adopted the time worn conversation method as the frame work of his play. Has enlarged upon it to an amazing degree. Has enhanced the charm of it by his own subtle methods of words and phrases. How often do we see dramas --- triangular affairs of infinite dullness or over extravagant in luxurious detail. How seldom a triangular play which forces itself upon us by sheer beauty of style and truthfulness, of character.

Do your want to read such an exceptional book?

Then try "ALIENS" by Wm. MacFee.

Ralph N. BARRETT (S.S.U. 12).




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The Bulletin takes pleasure this week in announcing the promotion of Captain Stephen Galatti to Major in the U. S. Army Ambulance Service.


                FRANCE REBORN

France dies ; the nation is bled white, they say ;
To deaths of war her finest sons have gone ---
There rests a Country tired, sorely worn,
With only visions of her sons unborn ---
Hers not the brilliant flush of coming dawn,
But just the fading afterglow of day.

France dead! True, she has paid the price
And richly poured the blood of all her best.
Worn will she be when all the battle's done,
When all the things she's fighting for are won ---
More glorious then! For doubly those who rest
Will be ennobled by her sacrifice.



                 SUNSET LIGHT

Slowly the pink and gold of sunset light
Comes in the western sky
And with its rosy glow
Warms the shell-shattered ruins of the nearby town,
And the desolate barren stretch of "No Man's Land ".
At fitful intervals
From the far plains and hills on either side,
Down the long battle line,
Rolls the reverbrant echo of the guns.
How kindly is the heaven sent light of the setting sun,
Amid this scene of death and utter desolation
In changing hues its colors glow on hill and rosy cloud-bank
Till at last
They fade into the twilight
And in the sky
Appears the evening star.

      France, October 6, 1918.

            Wm. CARY SANGER, Jr. 1st. Lieut. Inf.
                   (formerly member S.S.U. 9)



The battle rolls away --- as my life here
Must soon achieve an even greater sphere.
Upon this yawning threshold, Lord, I view
In awe the change that draws me nearer You.
Yours is the Hand to give, the Hand to take,
And yet I pray You, this, for dear Christ's sake:

For my poor comrade here, whose labored breath
Tears through his tortured throat, the peace of death
For these poor wounded writhing in distress,
The utter balm of deep unconsciousness
With speedy succor of their hurt that lie
So wet, forlorn, beneath the weeping sky.

Grant to the busy surgeons skill that they,
Though wearied, still can mend this broken clay;
And to the tired nurses give the strength
To toil through yet another hard day's length
With last, to nurse and surgeon both, the deep
Contentment of a sweet restoring sleep.

And for my mother --- God allay her pain
With faith her gift has not been made in vain
Grant for her loneliness bright memories
Of the child who played about her knees
And for her precious tears, if they should flow,
Lord give her this acceptance that I know.

J. B. C. --- 17/635.



From : 1st Lieut. Charles U. Caesar, M.T.C.
To : Editor, American Field Service Bulletin, 21, rue Raynouard, Paris.
Subject: Issue 66 Oct. 12, 1918. "Mallet Reserve."

1. The sublime confidence with which you print a "complete list of former members of the American Field Service Camion Division, who were commissioned in that branch of the American Army", makes it hard for me to shatter your dream of perfection, but here goes ; ---

(a) The following names do not appear on your list. All but the last two are graduates of the August-September (3rd) 1917 Meaux class.

Robert France.
Clifford McCall.
Guy Calden.
Theodore Preble.
Charles Starr.
Lynn Bruce.
George Hood.
Charles Ayres.

(b) The following men on your list are commissioned in the Tank Corps:

Aubrey F. Holmes.
Julian K. Morrison.

(c) The following men are commissioned in the Q.M. Corps and have never been transferred to the M.T.C.

Charles G. Curtiss (Motor Bn. Ammunition Train).
Chester N. Shaffer (Disbursing Officer, Reserve Mallet).
Frank M. Talmadge.

(d) The following appear on your list as 2nd Lieutenants but have, been promoted and now hold the rank of 1st Lieutenant.

Charles H. Bayley. Leroy F. Krusi.
Robert A. Browning. George R. Lamade.
Edward G. Bangs. Charles F. Meyer.
William E. Bown. William B. Olmstead.
Charles Caesar. Donald Ordway.
Buford A. Clark. Richard Ordway.
Frederick J. Daly. Frank O. Robinson.
Thomas H. Dougherty. John P. Scott.
Dows Dunham. Walter C. Sisson.
George L. Edwards Jr, George B: Struby.
Marshall J. England. Joseph M. Travis.
Charles J. Farley. Roger W. Whitman.
Millard P. Kaiser. John G. Wiggins.
Horton P. Kennedy.  

(e) The following men in paragraph (a) are also 1st Lieutenants --- France, Preble, Starr.

(f) All these men are now commissioned in the Motor Transport Corps, a new Staff Corps.

Charles U. CAESAR,
1st Lieut. M.T.C. (Chef T.M. 184-G.).



The other night a big sign "Army Quartermasters" loomed into sight. Here I thought is a chance to get some good things to eat and smoke. And I was not disappointed. On the shelves rested huge cartons of cigarettes, and tempting boxes of dainties. I accosted a clerk.

"Give me a few packages of Melocrinos, two pounds of chocolates, one of those fruitcakes, some strawberry jam, and a box of those Fig Newtons."

"Chesse it, who d'yuh think Yuh are?" He gave me a withering look.

"I'm a soldier in the American Army and I've got money to pay for that stuff. What's more, I'm going to get it." My accustomed French politeness left me, for apparently you had to be "businesslike" in dealing with these Q.M. men,

"Yes, you are," he answered, "dis stuff is for officers".

"For officers? Well, what can I get?"

"Meccas or' Nebos."

"I'll take ten packages of Nebos."

"You'll take two," he contradicted.

"And no. candy?"

"You said it," he snapped and left me to pass a Philip Morris carton to a nearby lieutenant. I left the place.

The next thing to attract my attention was a big building with a huge Y.M.C.A. pennant draped from it. In the lobby a small elderly man presided over a cigarette counter. "Here," I thought, "I can get some of my favorite cigarettes."

"Can't give you Melocrinos" my, friend, "they're for officers" he informed me.

"For officers?" I was dumfounded "But I thought the Y.M.C.A. was a democratic, free organization for the soldiers. Why, my parents contributed two hundred dollars to it so that I would feel that the Y. belonged to me."

"Can't help it, my man, orders is orders and you ought to be glad to get Camels."

"Alright, but say, could I have one of these rooms to stay in tonight. I see you advertise some."

"You're an enlisted man, I can't fix you up."

I wandered sadly into the street. Apparently to he an enlisted man was something repellant. A terrible stigma seemed attached to the word. The bustle again picked me up and drove me along.

Suddenly a little grey ambulance with crossed French and American flags and a Croix de Guerre came slowly up the street. It was old Bill, on the way back from a trip to the Parc. Damn, but he looked good. And so did the new cantonment, stable that it was, and all the gents. A bunch of French officers greeted me and asked about my permission. Then the Idea came.

"Bill, lets drive around to the French co-op. Unless they have changed their system I think they'll sell us simple enlisted men a dozen bottles and a bunch of pâté. I'm celebrating the fact that our formation is still with the French Army."




A city of sadness I saw to-night ---
     A city in death, it seemed;
I wandered about in the pale moonlight
     Where unreal stillness reigned.
The ruthless hand of a fiendish foe
     Had taken away its life,
And left behind in its work of woe
     Unhealing scars of war.

Its heart had been pulsing with blood and life,
     Its lungs had been filled with breath
But now, out there near the battle's strife
     It lay all cold and still.
Aloft, in its midst, the Cathedral spire
     Raised up in vain protest
Against the unholy rain of fire
     Of the unrelenting foe.

Unsung is the tale of those who fled
     Before that onward rush
Untold is their fear and their awful dread
     For the city left behind.
When the shells and bombs began to fall,
     Nought else had they to do
But leave their homes, their dearest all,
     And elsewhere seek refuge.

Again you shall live, brave Amiens,
     With pride in your sacrifice
Your name shall be sung by we, your friends,
     Whose hearts with pity bleed.
When the Hun has been pushed from "La belle Patrie",
     And peace on earth shall reign,
You will rise from the dust to again be free
     In a liberated world.

France, May 18th, 1918.

Walter J. GORES, S.S.U. 18.



S.S.U. (18) 636.



The Bulletin hopes to publish special numbers to celebrate the last Christmas and the last New Year's of the War.

Contributions in the way of drawings either for cover design or for contents, --- and of poems, articles, and stories are solicited.

It is hoped that every reader who is gifted as writer or artist will do what he can to make these numbers interesting.



Harold Willis who served in old Section 2 from March 1915 to July 1917, then joined the Lafayette Eccadrille and fell with his aeroplane within the German lines early in August 1917, escaped from the prison camp in which he was interned last week, and arrived at the Field Service Headquarters on Saturday, October 19th.

Mr. Willis speaks with appreciation of the frequent shipments of food and little comforts which he received regularly from the old Field Service during the period of his internment.


Lieut. Jefferson B. Fletcher now commanding officer of S. S. U. 547 recently suffered a slight wound from the explosion of a shell which caused the rupture of an ear-drum, Lieutenant Fletcher entered the Field Service in June 1917, serving for several months in old Section 4 now 627. Subsequently he took command of Section 14 now 632. He received the Croix de Guerre with a divisional citation for gallant conduct when in charge of that section.


John W. Ames (S. S. U. 2) aspirant in French Artillery who was wounded recently writes a cheerful letter from a hospital at Aix-les-Bains and states he is progressing as well as could be expected.


Robert R. Reiser (S.S.U. 33), T. M. Brunson (T.M.U. 184), William Cahill (T.M.U. 184) and Edward D. Kneass (S.S.U. 10) have gone to the Ecole Militaire at Fontainebleau.


Lawrence S. Morris formerly S.S.U. 4 we learn from a correspondent has been commissioned 2nd Lieut. and is a French instructor at Camp Upton.


Aspirant Robert B. Hyman (T.M.U. 242) is now with a French battery in the 13 Regt. d'Artillerie de Campagne

Aspirant Joseph Tim. Walker, Jr. (S.S.U. 29 and T.M.U. 133) has come in on ten days leave from his battery in French Artillerie.



A. G. Standing (S.S.U. 32) Cpl. U. S. A. A. S. ; Lorrain. G. Smith, Jr. (S.S.U. 4) U. S. A. A. S.; G. Hinman Barrett (S.S.U. 32) Sgt. U S. A. A. S.; William Cary Sanger. Jr (S.S.U. 9) 1st Lieut. Inf. ; Edward Seccombe (S.S.U. 2) U. S. A. A. S. ; John P. Fletcher (T.M.U. U. S. A. A. S. ; Charles E. McCreedy (S.S.U. 2) U. S. A. A. S. ; Edward J. M. Diemer (S.S.U. 2) U. S, A. A, S. Ewen Maclntyre (S.S.U. 2) U. S. A. A. S. ; Ralph J. Kielty S.S.U. 31) U. S. A. A. S. ; Marshall B. Mills (S.S.U. 31) U. S. A. A. S. ; R. T. Hanks (T. M. U. 133) 59 Brigade, Ecole Militaire, Fontainebleau ; Francis C. Jones (T.M.U. 133) 59 Brigade Fontainebleau ; Douglas M. Smith (T. M. U. 397) 59 Brigade, Fontainebleau ; John P. Hahn (T.M.U. 397) 2nd Lieut. M. T. Corps Réserve Mallet ; William M. Barber (S.S.U. 3) French Aspirant; John W. Clark (S.S.U. 3) Aspirant French Artillery ; Carl L. Schweinler (S.S.U. 32) U. S. A. A. S. ; Edward D. Kneass (S.S.U. 10) Ecole d'Artillerie, Fontainebleau ; Norman S. Buck (T.M.U. 133) U. S. Air Service ; Henry M. Hamilton (S.S.U. 69) Fontainebleau ; John E. Boit (S.S.U. 2) 1st Lieut. U. S. A. A. S. ; Robert F. W. Moss (Chef de Parc) American Red Cross ; M. M. Knight (S.S.U. 27) American Red Cross ; Charles Schlager (S.S.U. 31) French Aspirant ; Harry D. Wood (S.S.U. 69) American Red Cross ; Robert J. McClintock (T.M.U. 133) 2nd Lieut. M. T. C. Réserve Mallet ; Wendell P. Harper (T.M.U. 184) 2nd Lieut. M. T. C. Réserve Mallet ; N. H. Reynolds (T.M.U. 397) U. S. A. A. S, ; Tom O'Connor (S.S.U. 12) U. S. Naval Aviation ; Lawrence C. Ames (S.S.U. 68) and Lieut. Air Service. J. Timothy Walker (S.S.U. 29 and T.M.U. 133) Aspirant, French Artillery ; Edward S. Storer (T.M.U. 397) U. S. A. A. S.



Extract from a letter from J. E. G.- Fravell formerly S.S.U. 64, now an Aspirant in French Artillery; dated September 29, 1918.

"Thanks a thousand times for the cigarettes --- you can't imagine how glad I was to get them.

We are at present in the Champagne attack. Last night we slept in a Boche tunnel (we have had no abris since the beginning) and with the rain, we were certainly soaked, --- all we had was a canvas which was unfortunately not impermeable. We were all wet to the skin, consequently I have a beautiful cold. And the prospects are the same for tonight --- perhaps for three weeks more. Such a country I have never before seen --- mud and rain. My own mother would not recognize me now --- I haven't washed for four days, as there is no water.

How long we will stay here is uncertain --- the infantry have lost heavily, so they won't stay much longer but the artillery losses have been slight, so we will probably stick it out. One of our guns being over heated, exploded yesterday, killing two of the crew and wounding three others. I was about two meters from it, talking to the loader, when it happened. It certainly was the most ghastly thing I have seen. "


David L. Garratt formerly S.S.U. 66 now an élève aspirant at Fontainebleau writes from a French hospital under date of October 18th:

"Got the package you sent in answer to my S. O. S. yesterday and many thanks. With the help of the contents thereof I'll manage to drag out existence for some time to come. Was down to my last package of "Bull" yesterday morning so you can see for yourself what a life-saver rue Raynouard is on a pinch. Now that I've rather caught the hang of things here, life is quite supportable. I've found a bunch of sous-officiers that are pretty good scouts and we spend most of our time playing bridge. Funny what a lot of savage amusement you can get out of a greasy deck of cards in a pinch. As it is my first experience of playing bridge in the French language, the first few hands were worth a laugh. You see you can always learn something, even in a French hospital --- and I've sure added to my accomplishments down here. I might add that my fellow 'bridgers' appreciate the cigarettes as much as I do and will add their thanks."

7417 --- S-.P.I. 27, RUE NICOLO --- PARIS (XVIe)

AFS Bulletin Number Sixty-Five