Mark the Sarge's Words

Author's Note:

The following is a series of written letters from my 3rd Great Uncle, Stephen H. Herr, to his family, while serving in the United States Army, during the course of World War One. The orginal documents were written by hand and upon my discovery of them, I saw to it that my ancestor's first hand account of his service be translated to an online format, for others to see and learn from. However, because the orignal pieces are over 100 years old, the cursive handwriting was found to be very illegible, at times, and beggining to fade away; along with a plethora of grammatical errors and mispellings. The process of correcting such mistakes and restoring his written words to this medium, was (by no means) easy; however, the deed has been done.

Furthermore, at the conclusion of his last letter, he left a P.S. message, insisting that his writing not be published. At first, I contemplated not doing this at all; out of respect for the man. Yet, I came to the conclusion that since he's been long dead since 1973, what I would be doing wouldn't be hurting or offending anyone in today's time. At the end of the day, I want my ancestor's words to serve as primary source, pertaining to the experience of the ordinary American soldier in the First World War. Also, for the sake of establishing a better sense of context, I will provide pictures and videos elaborating on things he references that others may not know or understand.

- Jacob Herr

Camp MacArthur, Waco, Texas. July 16, 1918.

Dear Brother,

I sent the boys and Catherine a card some time ago. I suppose they received them OK. I am enclosing some postcard pictures, which I had taken Sunday evening, and just returned from getting them.

I suppose that you will be surprised to learn that our division (the Seventh Division) is soon to leave here for overseas. While we don't know for sure just when we will leave, I think it will be the forepart of next week. They are issuing us our equipment and packing things, now. I don't know for sure where we will go, but I think it will be east; most likely to Hoboken, New Jersey.

I am acting as company clerk for our company and have been made a Corporal, which doesn't amount to much, but means $6.00 more per month; which is a lot of money in the army. I don't have to drill or do anything of that kind. All my work is clerical. I keep track of the records of the men in our company, make out daily reports of the men present, absent, sick, etc. I haven't had hardly any drill since I came, except for the first week or so.

I am feeling fine and haven't been sick a day since I've been in the army. Jesse sent me the letter he received from Paul. Had to know that you folks are remembering us in your prayers. Don't worry about us, as we are getting plenty to eat, and both have good jobs, and with good luck we will get along OK.

It has been awful hot down here, and they have been working the fellows pretty hard lately. We will need a-lot more training before going to the front. No doubt we will be trained a long time on the other side before we see much of the battle. This is a big camp here, and I suppose as soon as we leave another crowd will be moved in. I belong to the 34th Infantry Regiment. There must be about 75,000 men in our division, so you see it will take some transportation facilities to move us.

I must write Jesse yet and send him some of my pictures, also send some home so I can't write much tonight. Don't worry about me as army life isn't half as bad as most people picture it. Not much use to write me after you receive this. If we remain in the Eastern camp any length of time, I write you from there.

Most every young fellow in the country now is or soon will be in this war. And the fellow who isn't in it before the war is over will always have to sit back and take a back seat.

Best wishes to you all.

From,

Steve.

On Active Service with the American Expeditionary Force. October 20, 1918.

Dear Brother,

I was delighted to receive Paul's letter which reached me yesterday. I presume that in reply I ought to direct this letter to him, but in view of the fact that it is difficult for me to find time to write, I must consolidate my correspondence as much as possible. So this will have to suffice for all.

As you doubtfully know, we arrived over here the latter part of August; and since that time, we have been a very busy bunch. We have never remained very long at one place, and have journeyed either by box car or by the "shoe leather route". I have done considerably more of the latter, and when one has his full equipment to carry on his back, it is not a very pleasant way to travel. However, I have withstood it all, splendidly, thus far. From present indications, we will not be compelled to travel so frequently, or so far for perhaps some little time ahead.

We are now within hearing distance of the big guns, and we are becoming quite accustomed to their roar. The villages here are nothing like you would imagine them to be. They are built of stone, as wood is very scarce, and particularly, all of them are very old, in some cases, over a hundred years old. The houses and barns are usually adjoining, and the sanitary conditions (in most cases) very bad. There are no stores in these little villages, at least not in the sense in which we speak of stores in the States. In fact, there is very little that one can buy over here, except from our own commissaries or the Y.M.C.A. whenever we are within their territory.

Whenever our troops put up in these places they are usually billeted in barns, in the haymows, or wherever they can find shelter. In fact, we are always glad whenever we can find anything so good as this. The weather here is extremely rainy, and we have had very little sunshine in the past week or ten days. Travel, however, is not much affected by this fact, because nearly all the roads are well improved hard roads. Aside from a couple of colds, I have enjoyed very good health, and indeed, this is about the greatest blessing one can find over here.

I have been hearing from home quite regularly the past few weeks and received two letters from Jesse recently. Yesterday, I received six letters in all. From the continual good news we receive from the newspapers, things look very favorable for us and our forces; as well as those of our allies, who are pushing forward with a vengeance. So, we are hoping that the goal of our success will soon be reached.

I presume the boys and Catherine are quite busy with their school work, and I trust you are all enjoying your usual good health.

With best wishes to all,

Your Brother,

Sgt. S. H. Herr.

On Active Service with the American Expeditionary Force in France. November 24, 1918.

Dear Father & Mother,

In line with the suggestion or plan known as "Dad's Christmas Letter", I am taking this opportunity during this very busy time to tell you as briefly as possible some of the events which have transpired in my life during the short but very busy period elapsed since I departed from Camp Merritt, New Jersey. To begin with, however, I can't quite reconcile myself to the idea of writing this strictly for the "ol boys" benefits so I am extending the idea to include Mother.

We left Camp Merritt about 1 AM, August 16th, 1918, and proceeded by way of the usual infantry method to a ferry landing about five or six miles from the camp. We arrived there shortly before daybreak when we were loaded on a ferry and transported across the river to the pier. There we were served coffee and sandwiches and immediately placed on board a large transport which was formerly a German boat called "The Amerika". It was a very spacious and evidently beautiful boat before being transformed into a troop transport. We remained within the three mile limit until the evening of the 17th, when we began to stream out for our ultimate destination. Traveling with us were two other large boats (also German); one "Crowned Princess Cecilie", the other a former "German raider", and both laden with troops. An airplane and several raiders conveyed us out for quite a little distance. We travelled for several days on the ocean without any convoys, but upon nearing Brest (our port of arrival), we were met by airplanes, a dirigible balloon, and about a half-dozen destroyers; all of which kept constantly circling above us and around us. We anchored out from shore a short distance and were then picked up by ferry boats and landed ashore about 2:00 pm on August 27th. We had a calm sea on our entire trip and I didn't get the least bit sea sick.

After landing ashore, we were marched to what are called "rest camps" about five or six miles out from the city. Upon our arrival, there we were, somewhat disappointed to find ourselves lined up in a small field and ordered to pitch our pup tents. We remained here only a few days, when we were ordered to a training area back of the lines. We made this journey in box cars; each cars accommodating 36 to 40 soldiers. Our journey covered a period of a little over two days. We carried enough provisions in each car to provide for the trip, and occasionally en route, we were served with hot coffee by the Red Cross. We were a bit stiff and tired from the journey, but arrived none the worse from its effects.

We had quite a long hike to the little village, in which we were first billeted. I spent about three or four days there, when I was ordered to go to the "intelligence school"; where I remained for nearly two weeks, or until the school was about to be discontinued. When I was ordered back to take up the work in which I am now engaged in; the "personnel adjutant's office", for which I have already told you of the nature of this work. When I returned from this school, my company had, again, moved. Though, it was only a few miles from where the school was located. So, I didn't have very much of a hike back. The entire company was assembled here, and in a few days, we proceeded towards the front. Once again, we travelled via the box car route, for about 20 hours; arriving just outside of Chaligny, at about 2:00 in the morning.

We unloaded along the side of the track in a drizzling rain, and the cooks proceeded to prepare a breakfast for us. We then rested for the balance of the day. It was at this place where I secured the handkerchiefs for Mother and Mary. At dusk, that evening, we started out on one of the longest trips I have ever taken; and had I known at the start that we were going on an all night's march, I suppose I would've considered the task impossible. However, we hiked all night with full pack; resting about 10 or 15 minutes out of each hour. Shortly after midnight, the wind began to raise and a storm set in, but we continuted our journey; arriving at our destination at just about daybreak. Of course, I was pretty well tired out, but really, I stood the trip wonderfully. It is a surprise to me, even to this day. After having a cup of coffee, we all were assigned to our billets, and I surely put in a good, sound sleep; until about Noon. That evening, after supper, we started out again and marched until about midnight. Upon reaching our destination, this time, we found that our billets were occupied by troops returning from the front. So, we were forced to pitch our pup tents and sleep out on the ground; which was still a bit wet from the previous night's rain. However, five of us got together and pitched our tents adjoining, spread out our raincoats, and an extra shelter half; arranging ourselves just as snugly as could be and enjoyed a pretty good rest with no effects either. The next day, however, the other troops moved out and we occupied their billets.

It was surely a great trip. Hiking along in the dark, with all the trucks and ambulances passing along these roads, in complete darkness, and using only a whistle for a warning. In the distance, we could see the continual flashing of light from the big guns, which had all the appearance of lightning. Of course, we were always getting a little nearer to the front lines. We remained at the later village only a few days when our organization proceeded to the front, in order to relieve another division. The "Personnel Section" remained in Martincourt (a little village back of the lines). Here, we were in distinct hearing distance of the big guns, and also within range of the big German guns. During the first couple of nights, everything was OK, and we were getting pretty well accustomed to the noise of the artillery. Though, by the third night, shortly after we were in bed, we heard one of those big pills whistling in the air, in our direction, and, presently, a tremendous explosion which shook the earth. There were five of us in the little room, in a school, where we were located. Everyone made a grab for his gas mask, thinking it might be a gas shell. However, we didn't put them on; awaiting, first, for a little sniff of warning. Of course, we thought, at first, that the shells were tagged; but, presently, we heared another "whizz bang" and sounded as though it was alighting in the same area. We finally decided they were not intended for us, and squared away in bed, again; laughing at our own fright and especially at that of one of the boys who was particularly excited. I heard about five or six drop and then fell off to sleep. The next day, we were somewhat surprised to learn that thay had been dropped on (or directed at) a railhead that was several kilometers distant from us.

We remained in the area for nearly a month. During that time, our organization was occupying a sector of the front known as the "Toul Sector" . Later on, our organization was relieved and we returned for a short rest, only to be sent back to the front, again. We were in the lines and in the actual fighting, right up until 11:00 on November 11th, when the armistice was signed. In fact, we had some especially hard fighting on the mornign of the 11th. In the meantime, we had moved our office twice; but only a very short distance. I saw three German Krupp guns only a few days ago. They had evidently been forced to abandon them before the pressure of our boys. The country around there is certainly one mass of shell holes. I picked up a piece of shrapnel out of one of these shell holes; a piece about as big as one's hand, which was very heavy and ragged edged. I also walked though a little cemetery, where soldiers of all sides were buried.

Our boys were certainly a happy bunch when the armistice was declared, and the air is full or rumors as to when we will leave for home. However, no-one really knows, and I don't expect we will get back until sometime next spring. I imagine the troops will be sent home, somewhat, in the order in which they came over. Of course, I would not object to having Christmas dinner with you; but I know it will be an unusually happy Xmas for all of you to know that I am well, happy, and beign well cared for, over here. So far, I havent been sick a single day (with the exception of a few colds, such as I would ordinarily be subject to in civil life). You needn't have any cause for worry about my conditions of living. For they are certainly very good, and I will no longer be subjected to any such long hikes; or anything of that sort. I am certainly enjoying the very best that the army can offer, and wouldn't have missed this opportunity for anything.

Everything, certainly, has turned out for the best. I am sure the experience I have gone through will always be a benefit to me. A great satisfaction and source of pride to feel that I have had some part (little as it may be) in this great struggle. So, I feel that it was all for the best that I did not wait for my induction; and that it reached me as late as it did. With all the happiness that these Christmas letters will bring to the many homes across the sea. I can't help but realize what it means for so many fathers and mothers, less fortunate, perhaps, whose son (or sons) have offered the supreme sacrifice.

Now, in conclusion, let me assure you, that we will all rejoice with you during the great festive season. I extend to you, and all, our fondest wishes for a merry Xmas; and hope that the new year will have much happiness in store for you.

Your son,

Sgt. S. H. Herr

Moneel Chateau (near Conflaus, France). February 6, 1919.

Dear Brother,

I hear you have been kept posted, reularly, my health, whereabouts, and etc. from the folks; but I have had considerable leisure time the past few days. So, I will give you a little direct information.

Our organization was in the lines, fighting, when the armistice was signed at 11 o'clock on Nov. 11th. Our office, at that time, was located in a little deserted and ruined village (Novient-aux-Prie) back of our lines. I think I wrote you once, since the armistice. I suppose I told you of our little part on the world stage. Shortly after, or about the latter part of November, we marched north to a little French village; but it was almost a complete mess of ruins. Scarcely a building remains, which has not been, at least, partially destoryed. We remained here until after the holidays, and them marched to Briey. Briey was occupied by the Germans, almost from the day war was declared by Germany, until just a few days before hostilities ceased. Many German signs can still be seen about the town. The Germans had even a sauerkraut factory, here; and we had sauerkraut to eat, several times, while we were there.

Last Saturday, we left Briey, for this destination. We are located in a chateau, overlooking a vast estate. It is so very beautiful. This chateau, at one time, served as the headquarters for Crown Prince Rupprecht and General Ludendorff.

The main rooms, downstairs, have all been rendered sound-proof, by means of padded doors. So, it is evident that some important meetings and consultations took place here. Much of the furniture has been removed, and all leather upholstering has been removed from the furniture that remains. There is also evidence of the removal of large paintings from the walls. I have very nice quarters, here, and living in a regular, little, bungalow; which was built by the Germans, while they were here. It continues to three rooms and a hallway, which is occupied by twelve of us; all of whom are connected to the personnel adjutant's office. Our office is located in one of the rooms in the chateau, and one which was used by the Germans while they were here. I recieved some mail from home, a couple of days ago, dated as late as January 17th. They were expecting that Jesse would be mustered out at, almost, any day. I hope I will be able to return home, soon.

The weather over here, since the new year, has been very nice. There has been no severe weather. We had a little snow, last night, but it is like a spring day, today. The snow is melting rapidly. On another note, I have no idea how long we have to remain, over here. We expected to be sent into Germany long before this, but wether we are to go there, eventually, or not, I do not know. The peace confrence is still in session (I guess) but I haven't seen any papers for a week. So, I don't know what is going on.

I am feeling fine and haven't been sick a day in the army. Hope you are enjoying good health. I am not going to try and tell you much of my life over here; as it would take too long. I hope that I may be able to get home soon, and will have plenty to tell you, then. Best wishes to all.

From,

Steve.

Author's Epilogue:

Sergeant Stephen H. Herr would continue his service as part of the American Army of Occupation, until April 4th, 1919. He would arrive home to the United States, from France, and be honorably discharged on April 22nd. His brother, Sergeant Major Jesse James Herr, was discharged on January 28th of 1919. Both men reunited at the Herr family farm in Livingston County, Illinois, and persue careers at the Citizens Bank of Chatsworth Illinois, founded by their father, Stephen Herr (1842-1922). Stephen H. workled as an assistant cashier, while Jesse served as the bank's attorney.

Stephen H. Herr would pass away on August 25th, 1973, at the age of 84. His brother, Jesse would pass away on September 27th, 1990, at the age of 98.

- Jacob Herr