Enfin, the Bulletin is to be a regular publication as in the old days at vingt et un. Instead of spasmodic issues on such happy occasions as the Annual Reunion and Christmas, or a few notes in the columns of such a paper as the late "La France," it has been decided to publish a Bulletin every two months to be edited and printed in rotation by the regional branches of the Association.
This issue (No. 5 of the present volume) is the work of the Far Western Branch under the editorship of Bob Donaldson and Lanse Warren (who need no parenthetic introduction). The next issue will be handled by the Philadelphia Branch and will appear on November first, to be followed in turn by the Boston, New York and Indiana Branches at bi-monthly intervals. Under this regional plan it is expected that the entire Field Service organization will be more closely knit together, and that the Bulletin will become an increasingly valuable instrument in, achieving the purposes of the Association as set forth in the Constitution:-". . to perpetuate the memory of the life and work of the Service . . . to keep alive friendships of those years, to promote mutual understanding and fraternal feeling between France and the United States . . . to co-operate with the Trustees of the American Field Service Fellowships for French Universities . . ."
If the Bulletin is to be truly representative of the Association and a publication worthy of the achievements and the memories of the Service, it must have the cooperation of every member. That means that YOU need not wait until it becomes time for your Branch to publish the Bulletin, or you receive an urgent note dunning you for a contribution. Instead, you should send in material of whatever sort the Muse inspires to 50 State Street, Boston, from which place it will be forwarded promptly to the Branch handling the next issue. If you are in la belle France and seeing any of the old Secteurs and drinking du bon pinard, the obligation is imperative, and if you are in Podunk let that country be heard from, aussi.
And one word more. Paper is high, and the printer, like the fiddler, must be paid. Ça coute, vous savez, considerablement. We don't expect to have to dun anyone for membership fees after this issue. C'est entendu 's pas?
J. H. L.,
For the Bulletin Committee.
(From a photograph taken March 16, 1921, showing the remarkable progress made by the rehabilitation work in France, and how France really didn't suffer from the war.
Somehow, since the war, every time I hear anyone mention the country of France, I feel something akin to personal pride, a sort of proprietorship, a feeling of modest self-approbation, stirring inside me, and I immediately begin to glow with a good-natured tolerance for the world at large that never at any other time affects me.
If the allusion is complimentary, especially. Then I launch forth with a volume of supporting statistics, and reminiscences---all spontaneously, so that after I finish talking and calm down, I am almost ashamed of myself.
But let anyone make an insinuation, a false imputation, or a derogatory allusion to that nation or its people, it immediately arouses in me an uncontrollable wrath, pity and defiance for the speaker that renders speechless, and my involuntary scorn for that person has been immortalized.
Instinctively I look upon myself as, the protector, almost the originator of France, her policies, all things French. I am her most eloquent apologist, her most ardent extoller.
I am, in fact, a Field Service man.
And the Field Service, it seems to me, has appropriated a mandate over France.
Every Field Service man, somewhere stowed away in his most private inner consciousness, has the well formulated plan of some time going back to that "doux pays de France," to while away a few seasons on the sidewalk cafes, sipping a champagne fraise, or some similar potation, and maybe visiting some of the buvettes, the patisseries, or blanchisseries, peut-être, of the old repos villages.
The Bulletin here gives some extracts, unbeknownst to the author it must be confessed, from the chronicles of Edward Samuel, Jr. (Secs. 70 and 18), one who has already made that Grande Etape:
We left Amerique, the pays-sec, on the good old "Nieuw Amsterdam," and to start out we had three days of rough weather, pretty nearly everybody leaning heavily over the rail. (Although I haven't been sick, I've had a headache for the past week.) Then the next couple of days were damp and foggy and icy cold. Thank goodness we've been out of the three-mile limit or many of us would have frozen to death without stimulants.
The chart looks like an excuse for the bum time we've made. The captain blames our snail-like pace on the coal, but any real mariner would say we were dragging anchor. When we arrive in Bordeaux harbor, one of those colored-sailed fishing smacks will probably heave alongside and notify us that we forgot to pull up anchor at the New York dock.
Paris is great now. There are races in the suburbs every day, dancing in most of the larger cafes, lots of liquor (no whiskey at all) and opera every evening. Every once in a while you see a business man, but not often enough to be bothered. You might be interested to know the prices of some of the more important things in life. For a bottle of White Star Moet et Chandon you now pay from thirty to cinquante, Pommerey and Veuve Cliquot, not vintage, sell around forty. Soixante quinze cigarettes have turned into grosse pieces now, costing francs one fifty par paquet de vingt. For a decent pair of shoes (men's) they soak you from a hundred and twenty-five francs to the sky, depending on how rich you are and how little you understand the customs and habits of the Gauls. For a suit of clothes you pay from seven hundred francs up, mostly up, and for rooms in one of the larger hotels---sacré camion---double rooms and bath eighty up par jour, not par mois, as you probably would think. Thank goodness, I haven't any children that I know of. Automobiles are also bringing fabulous prices. For example, second-hand Rolls Royces at 200,000 francs. Yet everybody seems to be getting along very nicely---that is to say, all the foreigners.
You hardly ever hear French spoken nowadays---either English, American or Spanish. The demoiselles are about the only ones who keep the language going---even though they don't speak it purely. A sad state of affairs.
Even the taxi drivers "spich a leedle Englich." You can pronounce "Hotel Continental" in any of the 69 different ways there are of pronouncing it and you will always get there. Name any street in Paris, Englishly pronounced---they know it. Paris isn't the place it used to be. You'd still love it, though.
Last March I conducted personally a tour of where we fought (among ourselves) and died (of drinking). The trip was most interesting although a hurried one. The first day we went from Paris to Reims, having lunch at Villers Cotterets at a little hotel near the Betz road. At the Saut du Cerf we examined the caves of our own making. They had all been filled in! At Soissons (pronounced Soy-songz) there wasn't one recognizable landmark. The place was certainly knocked to smithereens after we last saw it. The Red Lion Hotel (where they served liquor out of hours) has been moved to a "modern building." The inhabitants of the town, or rather those whose houses were too badly battered to be fixed up are located among the ruins in portable houses. The main poste at Vailly has gone through several changes since our tenancy. It is now the best hotel in the place. The village itself apparently hasn't been touched---just a mass of ruins. If Aizy was bad when we were there, you ought to see it now! Nothing but piles of stones and barbed wire. If you could take a look at our old cave abri you'd thank heaven you weren't in it when it was put in its present condition.
Reims with the exception of the cathedral wasn't of any special interest to a member of section six thirty-six. It has been badly knocked to pieces, however.
At Mourmelon I stopped in to see the Scotch lady who ran the hotel, remember? She offered to set up a drink on the house after asking a million questions. The little joint where we had supper every once in awhile was closed up. M-4 poste is nothing but a field as far as I could make out. Either that or they have camouflaged the cave so much better than it was during the war that it is invisible. The shack that reminded you of Bairnsfather's "What did that?" "Mice" is just as natural as ever.
At Châlons-sur-Marne everything is life. The shops are all open and the streets are crowded. The hospital at La Veuve has been removed or rather folded up in readiness for the next struggle for democracy. At Epernay we had lunch in the hotel the fellows used to visit frequently. That same evening I dined in a small restaurant, and lo, and behold, who should be in the same place but Sergeant Papillion, of our old G. B. D.!
AS TIME GOES ON
As time goes on it seems to me
As time goes on I seem to see
As time goes on I seem to think
If this keeps up, there's one thing sure,
Reunions, occurring as they do, with almost annual regularity, so that practically anyone in the Field Service is likely to be called upon to make one in the imminent future, the Bulletin has arranged to publish a comprehensive outline of the essentials, which will enable, it is hoped, the most reticent to make a passable speech. It should contain:
1 well worded eulogy of the French Republic, the customs and nature of the French people, and the poilu (which may be rehashed from the writings of A. Piatt Andrew, Vol. 1 Field Service history).
1 jocose reference to an abri (or shell hole or something of the sort).
1 pathetic memory.
A couple of sly digs at the U. S. army or Allentown.
2 wails at the paucity of vin blanc in the general surroundings, with a facetious reference to its superfluity in the immediate vicinity.
1 tribute to Steve Gallati.
Another to Harry Sleeper.
And a final recollection of the happy days at Rue Raynouard (keeping out all mention of the O. S. E. office and June, July and August of 1917).
If hard put to it the speaker can drag in La Comtesse de Villestreux or even Mrs. Vanderbilt.
By then it is time to make your get-away!
Somewhere in Paris,
You may know that the fortress where Sainte Geneviève successfully defeated Atilla the Hun was later transformed into a citadel of Knowledge---the Sorbonne. And likewise, our dear old 21 Rue Raynouard, a Quartier Général in wartime, has been changed into the "École Duvignau de Lanneau." The CAHIER has replaced the Ford! But that's all rhetoric. I forget all about the symbolism when I think about the old dining-room being full of young strangers.
The other morning I went up to pay 21 a call. In the name of Aülde Lange Syne I hailed a red taxi with a very animated driver. I don't care for the taciturn type that sit back of the wheel like a Rodin statue. Whenever anything happens I want them to keep full speed ahead, let go of the wheel and remonstrate with both arms.
"Vingt et un, Rue Raynouard" I said, and to my surprise he understood me. He pulled down the little white flag of truce and we were off. This particular Taxi was decorated in blue "tapis" and fitted out with straps and arm-slings like a 1st Class compartment in a P. L. M. train. There was, of course, the usual mirror: one inch wide and two feet long. A plate glass window re-enforced with wire-netting separated me from the chauffeur.
When we got to the Trocadero I got a real thrill. Coming up from the river towards that pot-bellied building with the two horns, we were making fine progress. I was gazing upon the Bronze Bull which looks so much like one of our well-known ads, when Zowie! Chug Chug Chug Prrrrrut! we were in low. I looked about me and behold, there was the old familiar 2% grade!
We did not change our pace until we were in front of that corner store in Square Passy. Once, away back in the pocket dictionary days, I tried to buy a key-ring there. I came away with two yellow-straw shoe brushes.
We were on Rue Raynouard at last. Apartment house to our right and 21 to our left. Arrived once again. "Shade of Doc Gros nous voici."
From the outside the two sets of wooden doors, the stone wall which separates them and the lamp-post look the same. Above the wall on the same old board is the new lettering:
The doors are usually closed but I followed in behind an "ouvrier" who was delivering pommes de terre by the sack. The Concierge, an old lady, put forward loud objections and the "ouvrier" dropping his sack turned to me with a "Voyons! Voyons!" I realized that now this was very private property. A little stalling on my part caused Madame to forget all about putting me out. She even volunteered some information. As she put it, comrades of mine have come back to visit the place très souvent. It is now a school for jeunes gens de vingt ans . . . preparatory for the École Centrale. Many foreigners have been enrolled---but Americans, pas encore. Mais, ils viendront, ils viendront!
We were in that little square just inside the upper gates. How many times have I seen a droopy-tailed ambulance standing there on those cobble-stones. I looked for the old rubber-tired push-cart with which I made many a trip to the "Cinema." It was missing. By the little faucet that is still encased in one of those brass tombstone arrangements, there used to be some blue boxes filled with square essence cans. I do not know why I remember them but I miss them now that they are gone. There was always a "duffle-bag" by the door and trunks piled up at the head of the stairs. And didn't there used to be some straw strewn around somewhere? At least it wasn't swept clean like it is now. On the east wall still hang those fragments from the Palais des Tuileries with the inscription CONSTRUIT PAR PHILLIBERT DE L'ORME EN 1565. Underneath it is a very modern dog-kennel. Otherwise the old place is bare. All that sunshine is going to waste. The painted kennel makes the old place look very empty and very square. Madame assured me that there wasn't a souvenir of Field Service days anywhere to be found. Not a picture, not a flag, not a tablet inside the chateau or out.
I did not want to disturb the École Lanneau but I did want to visit the "Parc." So I went around to the lower gate via the long flight of stone steps which goes from No. 11 down to Rue Charles Dickens. This passageway is just as narrow, just as dark and just as crumbly as ever but for some unknown reason much cleaner. Could it have been the boys in "comic opera English uniforms" who ...? Oh, no, impossible!
At the lower entrance I found a very amiable concierge who showed me all around. Her interest in my attachment for the place was genuine. She rushed over to turn off a sprinkler that threatened to throw a few drops of water on my beaux souliers américains. When she thought of showing me the douches she ran for the key. When I left I offered her a few francs pourboire. She jumped back with her hands behind her. She said nothing but her face was all smiles.
The "parc" looked very green and shady. There seemed to be so many trees. All our barracks have been cleared away and the lower part of the ground has been leveled. Circling the trees and flanked with lawns is a fine cinder-path. Sprinters in perfect form were persistently training. The other athletes were away on vacation. Farther back the "parc" was even darker. The slope in front of the chateau is now a terrace of shade. Concierge No. 2 insisted on showing me the new douches. The novelty of a bathhouse did not interest me greatly. I enjoyed more revisiting the old well with its mysterious subterranean passage. "Les eaux de Passy" are still trickling through the red mud. This water was there in Franklin's day; it was there in our day; and will be there, I presume, when Krusi's great-grandson comes to Paris as a Boursier. On the surface things seemed to have changed greatly but once underground, despite the darkness, it was easy to see that this was the same world, after all. Even though the factory is gone we still know how to make sugar out of beets, thanks to Delessert. There is nothing to show that Rousseau ever sat in the Orangerie but we still read his "Lettres Sur La Botanique." And up in the chateau today they are studying French---not German!
I walked along the dark tunnel to the first and only skylight. Madame was peering down from twenty feet above. I called up to ask her if she knew anything interesting about this historic passage.
"Oui, monsieur. Just the other day a horse fell in through this skylight, all the way to the bottom; walked along the passage through which you just came; mounted the stairs and appeared at the top unscratched."
Royal Tea Parties, Statues of Liberty, Franklin and his Kite notwithstanding, I assure you that for real interest no other bit of the park's history' quite parallels this.
P. J. V. P.
From L'Union Des Soldats Blessés Gravement:
Salut, conducteurs Américains. We will always garde of you a très bon souvenir.
From Les Conducteurs de Taxi autos, Paris:
Nous connaissons toujours le numero 21 Rue Raynouard. N'oubliez pas Napoleon III et le pourboire.
From Mimi, Yvonne et Kiki, Folies Bergere, Paris:
Things are triste since you quittered Paris, vous savez. Mais nous apprennons avec joie les bonnes nouvelles that your confrères are coming, and nous serons très heureuses de les recuiller en arrivant to faire la plupart de leur education en France.
From Le Général, Commandant le Centième Division, R. V. F.:
Mes felicitations aux conducteurs, braves and courageux, qui ont fait la guerre avec nous. I enclose the two thousand five hundred additional croix de guerres which your admirables officiers have asked for, regretting that unfortunately I oublied to send them sooner.
From Madame, Buvette près de l'ancien front:
Bonjour, messieurs. Pas de tabac, plus de confiture, plus, plus, plus. Ce n'est pas l'heure, vous savez. Mais non, pas de champagne, rien, rien, rien. Pas de l'ommelette, il ne reste plus d'oeuves, vous savez . (Restez, restez, quand le gendarme est parti). Eh, bien, messieurs, vouliez-vous entrer en arriere?
The "Café de la Paix!" Do those one-time mystic words recall to you pleasant memories of lazy summer afternoons, or cool evenings, spent in consuming "demies-brunes" or perhaps other more interesting drinks, as you whiled away the hours of a Paris leave, in those days which preceded the American "occupation" of France? Then you may be surprised, possibly disappointed, to learn that no longer do our "copains," since returned to France, make that famous Paris landmark their rendezvous, as was done during those days it is so good to remember.
Your first impression, on returning to the spot, is that it seems rather commonplace, not at all what you had anticipated; and so it is. Tourists, American and otherwise, swarm about the place; gone is the passing show of multicolored uniforms; gone, in fact, all the varied interests which made this corner of war-time Paris so beloved by the "conducteurs" of the American Field Service. Disillusioned, dejected, you hasten away, alarmed at the prospect of having perhaps become blazé. Not so, as you will soon realize.
Before you have remained in Paris long, you will learn that down in the Latin Quarter on the Boulevard du Mont Parnasse, is the "Café de la Rotonde." A la bonheur! Once you have become acquainted with it your disappointment in the Café de la Paix will quickly vanish; you will discover that instead of being blazé you really have all the enthusiasm of a newcomer to the Capitol, with the added pleasure which comes from the possession of a certain amount of "savoir-faire." Here in the center of a Bohemian and cosmopolitan life, colorful and full of romance, you will find a new interest which will quite replace the old.
The "Café de, la Rotonde" is the rallying point of the foreign of the Latin Quarter. If you are in search of friends, or wish simply to pass an idle hour or two, go there most anytime, but preferably between 10:30 P. M. and 2:00 A. M. Sitting out on the terrace, you will not have half finished your glass before a hearty slap on the back and a cheery "Hello" informs you that "Bill," whom you last saw up in Maine or out in California, is, like yourself, back in dear old "Panaam."
Bill, who has preceded you by several days, has much to say. He begins to tell you all the things you want most to know. Sam has been at the Beaux Arts as an American Field Service Fellow in Architecture, and has been taking a number of prizes. Harry, also one of the "Fellows," has another year to go before taking his State Doctorate in Law. Al is over on his own, working in the ateliers and painting some on the side. Will and Paul are at present bicycling up through Brittany and Normandy, but will be back for the opening of the University in the Fall. The Paris Branch of the Field Service Association had a lively, get-together dinner the week before, and there will be others later on.
Here Bill takes time to breathe for a minute. He points out a queer-looking individual with flowing bobbed hair, black slouch hat, and Windsor tie, evidently an artist by trade, and undoubtedly a free-thinker by temperament. The little fire-eyed Senegalese beauty walking at his side, with her arm slipped through his, makes you gasp for a moment. Looking at Bill questioningly, you are informed that she is a well-known and popular artists' model of the Quarter. Following close on their heels come two American girls, who, in an effort to fit into the local-color of the Quarter, have bobbed their hair and are wearing sandals with no stockings. Tolerant Paris!
Thinking to look at your watch, you are amazed to find that it is long past midnight, and you realize that the Metro has closed and that your lodgings are on the other side of the town. In spite of the prospects of a verbal battle with a taxi driver, you find yourself in high spirits and make a rendezvous with Bill for the following night at the "Rotonde."
W. J. G.
France, August, 1921.
Almost immediately upon returning from France, Field Service men in the far West got together for the purpose of organizing and carrying on. This movement was a natural and spontaneous result of a common experience which gave us a common tradition and point of view. Out of those inspiring and exciting days together there came to us a deep affection for France, an understanding of her people, and an earnest will to serve her wherever possible. Another tie holds us together-the desire to cling to those experiences across the sea which were the most interesting of our lives. In short, Field Service men everywhere are held together by two forces, one of which looks backward and the other forward: the joy of reminiscence and the desire to serve France. The activities carried on in the far West since the Armistice reflect these two forces; they found their purpose either in the desire to honor France and those who served her well, or in the reunion spirit in which we lived over again those halycon days of 1914-1917.
The University of California Unit (T. M. U. 133) lost no time after the war in forming an organization. In August, 1919, officers were elected at the home of Dr. Charles Mills Gayley, the greatest friend of the Unit. Since that time up to the present, monthly meetings have been held at the home of Dr. Gayley, and weekly luncheons in San Francisco. One of the first doings of the Unit after its rejuvenation was to give a tea in honor of those who made the Unit possible by their unselfish aid early in 1917. It will be remembered that this Unit, like the Stanford units, was financed by popular subscription. At this function the members of the Unit were able personally to thank a hundred of its old friends and benefactors.
In the spring of 1920 the California Unit was given a dinner by le Capitan Negre, representative of the French government in San Francisco as the head of a diplomatic mission. The Unit was also entertained by Mme. and M. Paul Verdier, of San Francisco. Both of these functions offered the rare chance to meet French people of standing and culture, which helped to bridge the long gap between California and France.
Miss Jane Cowl's recent visit to San Francisco et the head of the "Smilin' Through" company gave the California Unit another chance to thank one of its good friends. In May, 1917, when the California Unit arrived in New York on its way to France, Miss Cowl entertained the Unit at a performance of "In Lilac Time." This benefit performance was at her own suggestion. She not only personally decorated the theatre, but actually invited a number of influential people whom she knew would be interested in the cause. Between the acts, Emery Pottle, with an impassioned address, collected $20,000 from the audience, only a few minutes after he had said "Who'll give the first thousand?" When Miss Cowl was playing in San Francisco, the California Unit attended in a body, sent in to Miss Cowl an immense basket of flowers, and had an opportunity after the performance personally to thank her.
Intensely indignant over the unjust criticism of France prevalent during the first year after the Armistice, and feeling that most of it was due to misunderstanding and prejudice, if not to propaganda, Field Service men in California sought a means to plead the cause of France. This opportunity came to three Field Service men, Cadman, Wright and Whitton, who spoke before 5,000 students of the University of California on the general topic "The Truth About Our Allies." These addresses were printed in "The University of California Chronicle," and in the San Francisco French daily, the "Franco-Californien." They were later reprinted in pamphlet form by M. Fricot of Angels Camp, California, and have received considerable publicity in this country and in France. We feel that these addresses have accomplished some good for a great cause, and constitute a type of activity which the Field Service Association should promote in every possible way.
The Far-Western Reunion, held in November, 1920, in San Francisco, has received considerable space in former issues of the "Bulletin," so that we need only say that a three-day celebration, consisting of Memorial Service, Smoker and Banquet, constituted something which will not soon be forgotten. At this time the Far Western Branch was formally organized, officers elected, and future plans laid. This Reunion, besides furnishing an immense amount of enjoyment in the way of reminiscence, has been a powerful force in holding Field Service men in this section together.
Probably the most successful activity of the Far Western Branch was the dinner given in honor of General Nivelle just before Christmas, 1920, at the Hotel Fairmont, San Francisco. It was our desire to make this a great tribute to France on the part of the most representative and influential people of California. To this end only people of standing and influence were invited, and only those who had shown an interest in France. Included among the guests were benefactors of the Field Service, distinguished representatives of the French Quarter, and high officers of the Army and Navy. Nearly 200 guests responded to the invitations, and 50 who applied for tables at the last moment had to be refused. No more distinguished gathering ever assembled in the West. The banquet was a success in every way. The outstanding feature of the evening was a revival of the old war spirit which idealized France and envisioned America and France fighting side by side for the greatest cause of all time. At the close of the banquet General Nivelle conferred the Legion d'Honneur upon three men who have for many years been true friends of France, and staunch friends and benefactors of the Field Service: William H. Crocker, W. B. Bourne, and Bruce Porter.
So far, 1921 has not seen very much activity in the Far Western Branch. In May a farewell dinner was given by the California Unit in honor of Perry Patton and Budd Champlin, who since have left for France as Field Service scholars. The Stanford Unit also honored one of their members who has achieved a like honor---Walter Gores.
The Philadelphia Branch, composed of the following officers, will publish the November first Bulletin:
Ernest S. Clark, President.
John H. Mason, Jr., Secretary and Treasurer.
Arthur E. Hutchinson.
Aubrey L. Thomas.
Material for this Bulletin should be sent to the Association Office, Boston, except where personally solicited by the editor in charge.
The Philadelphia Branch is very active and is to have a big time at the Opera House in Philadelphia early in November to raise money for Fellowships. An effort is being made to have Marechal Foch present.
On June 26th, the Indiana Branch of the Association was formally organized and the following officers elected:
Philip C. Lewis, Chairman.
John I. Kautz, Secretary and Treasurer.
This is a small Branch of about twenty or thirty members, but they are very enthusiastic and eager to do their part. It won't be long before the Indiana Branch will be called upon to issue a Bulletin. For the present the address of this Branch will be c/o Philip C. Lewis, No. 30 the Alexandra Apts., Indianapolis.
The Tuesday luncheons which have proved so successful this past year will be renewed in September. It is hoped that everyone who can possibly do so will attend these luncheons, and join in the general good time. Mayo A. Darling has charge of these luncheons and will welcome any suggestions. Write him care of the Association Office. As soon as a place has definitely been decided on, notice will be sent to all active members of the New England Branch.
On July 21st, the President of the Association, Austin B. Mason, appointed the following Reception Committee:
Joseph R. Greenwood, Chairman
Dallas D. L. McGrew
William H. Wallace, Jr.
Herbert P. Townsend
Thomas S. Bosworth.
This Committee was appointed to meet prominent Frenchmen who may arrive at or sail from New York, and to organize any entertainment that may be feasible.
A Branch in Detroit is now in process of organization under the direction of the following temporary committee:
Thomas H. Lowry, Chairman
C. E. Frazer Clark
Muir W. Lind.
We expect to hear great things from this Branch in the near future.
Herdic, John F., S. S. U. 68, of Williamsport, Pa., and Chicago, Ill., and Miss Julia C. Warner, of Evanston. Ill.
MacKinlay, John B., T. M. U. 133, of San Francisco, California, and Miss Ruth Kroll, of Oakland, California.
Wright, Charles Shelton, S. S. U. 12, of Chicago, Ill., and Miss Jean Stuart Ware, of Chicago, Ill. (sister of Edward Newell Ware, S. S. U. 13, who died at Bucharest, Roumania, May 7, 1919).
Brown, Linford E., T. M. U. 397, of Boston, Mass., and Miss Anne Wyman, of Medford, Mass., April 12, 1921.
Clapp, Roger F., S. S. U. 16, of Salem, and Miss Helen M. Bailey, of Swampscott, Mass., May 16, 1921.
Drew, Edwin H., T. M. U. 397, of Boston Mass., and Miss Ernestine del Siena, of New York City, in New York, July 2, 1921.
Keyes, Joseph B., S. S. U. 16, of Concord, Mass., and Miss Sarah Elizabeth Shaw, of Bedford, Mass., July 2, 1921.
To Mr. and Mrs. A. Homer Jennings, T. M. U. 184, of Dallas, Texas, a son, Jack Wolfe, June 25, 1921.
To Mr. and Mrs. Philip T. Sprague, S. S. U. 8, of Michigan City, Indiana, a daughter, Elizabeth Anne, July 30, 1921.
To Mr. and Mrs. Philip H. Suter, S. S. U. 631, of Milton, Mass., a daughter, Amy Aldis, June 25, 1921.
To Mr. and Mrs. William H. C. Walker, S. S. U. 2, of Brookline, Mass., a daughter, Frances Augusta, July 12, 1921.
Wells, Wallace Nathan, S. S. U. 9, Cleveland, Ohio, killed in automobile accident, June, 1921.
W. B. Wright, T. M. U. 133, has been cited by the American Legion Weekly as having served probably in more campaigns than any other American soldier. His Victory Medal, of which the Weekly gives a photograph, contains eleven bars. After the Jouaignes days, "Whit" served throughout the war in the Mallet Reserve.
Six members of the California Unit are still, or again, in Paris. Of these Don Keefer is connected with the diplomatic service, while Henry Howard, Paul Cadman, Budd Champlin, Perry Patton and Joe McMorrow are studying, respectively, architecture, social economics, political science, diplomacy, and French.
"Bob" Smyth, one of the few Aspirants to be raised to a Sous-Lieutenant, and who won the Croix de Guerre as a member of the 261 R. A. C. near Soissons, is in China as a student interpreter studying for the diplomatic service. "Bob" writes of hunting tiger in Manchuria and ends up cryptically, "Give my best regards to my friends and tell my enemies to go to Hell."
Larry Higgins and Pink Lane, T. M. U. 133, both brought home French brides and each is now the proud father of a baby girl. Larry is in French Indo-China and Pink is at Cement, California.
E. G. Bangs, T. M. U. 133, is associated with Mr. John Galen Howard, Architect, San Francisco. Bangs has been appointed Secretary of the Far Western Branch to succeed John Whitton, who is now Vice-President of the Association.
Dr. Charles Mills Gayley, to whose efforts was due the organization of the California Unit in 1917, and now Honorary President of that section, was recently decorated with the Legion d'Honneur by Ambassador Jusserand.
Brooke Edwards, S. S. U. 1, is the only available member of an Indian Branch, and may he addressed, c/o the Baldwin Locomotive Works, 6 Old Post Office Street, Temple Chambers, Calcutta, India.
Col. A. Piatt Andrew is a Republican candidate for Congress in the Sixth District. Primaries are to be held on September 13th.
Stephen Galatti sailed for France some weeks ago, and may be addressed, c/o Munroe & Co., 3 rue Ventadour, Paris, until the latter part of September, when he expects to return to New York.
Archibald Dudgeon, Secretary of the Association, is also in France until the latter part of September, and may be addressed, c/o Morgan, Harjes Co., 14 Place Vendome, Paris.
"Gerry" Reynolds, formerly of the Y. M. C. A., and a frequenter of 21 rue Raynouard, and known to all A. F. S. men, called at the Boston Office of the Association recently.
Clifford H. DeRoode, S. S. U. 1, is now Assistant Manager of the Hotel de la Grande Bretagne, 14 rue Caumartin, and calls the attention of Field Service men to the restaurant "Romano," located in the Hotel. A business men's lunch is served here for 13 francs.
Robert T. W. Moss, of S. S. U. 2, and later Chief of the Parc, has opened an office in Paris at 24 rue Caumartin, doing an exporting and importing business. Any Field Service men interested in business in France would do well to get in touch with Mr. Moss.
In a recent number of the Army and Navy Journal there is an article regarding the American Field Service Fellowships, written by Brig. Gen. Henry J. Reilly, who has just taken over the. management of the journal. He has always been a friend of the Field Service and was one of those who gave his automobile in the American Ambulance days. We wish him every success in his new undertaking.
Roger F. Clapp, S. S. U. 16, has been appointed Chairman of the Bulletin Committee and will have charge of all Bulletins published by the Association. Any material for Bulletins should be sent to him at the Boston Office, 50 State Street.
The Memorial Volume is now on the press and will be out within a very short time. If you have not already reserved your copy, it is suggested that you do so at once. The book will sell at $3.00. Checks and money orders should be made payable to AMERICAN FIELD SERVICE, and be sent to the Association Office, 50 State Street, Boston, Mass.
A pamphlet has been published explaining the purpose and plan of the American Field Service Fellowships for French Universities, which will be gladly sent to any member of the Service or to anyone interested as a prospective donor or otherwise, upon application at the office, Boston, Mass.
The Association Office is in a position to get out special notices for the various branches, to be mailed with the Bulletin. Such notices should be in the office at least by the 28th of the month preceding the issue with which they are to be sent.