Part 13

We crossed into the Fodderland yesterday. After scrappin about it for four years nobody seemed to give a rap any more than if wed been draggin in a load of hay. You remember how the papers used to say if we ever drove the Fritzes back to Germany we could never get across the border. Proper Gander, every word of it. They didnt even have a fence around it.

We just crossed a little river no wider than Silver Creek an there we was. No screamin wimmin, no stray shots out of attiks, no awtrocities. Nobody even took the trouble to come out an hiss at us. It made everybody feel pretty low I can tell you. The only ones that took any interest at all was a bunch of kids in soldiers caps an stand up collars like your father wears. They seemed to think we was goin to show in their town an trotted along beside us to watch the big tent go up.

Wed all been plannin for some time on committin a few good awtrocities as soon as we got into Germany just to liven things up a bit.

As usual tho when the Captins runnin the party anything sporty is ruled out. The only awtrocities hell let us commit is makin faces at the Fritzes. The whole thing has been an awful disappointment. This country aint no diferent from France or the one we just left. It aint even colored diferent like it is on the map.

Theres a fello from Milwawke in our battery named Joe Bush. It certinly helps to have somebody around that speaks German. Last night Joe told me hed found a regular bed in one of the Fritz houses that the oficers seemed to have missed. He traded me half of it for a package of cigarets. Back to the hay barn for me tonite.

A German bed is like a loaf of bread thats rose to much. Its so high you need a chair to get onto it. I guess youd need a coroner if you ever rolled off it. When I first got up on it I couldnt make out where the bed close was. Then I found there was two matdresses, one about four feet thick an the other on top about a foot thick. Your supposed to sleep between them like a sanwidge. The little matdress is built so it just reaches from your neck to your ankles if you aint to tall. You can get the idear by lyin down an puttin a sofa pillo over you. Ether the Fritzes has awful tuff feet or there built like a pocket drinkin cup. I tried rollin up like a dog till Joe caught onto it to.

Well, Mable, in about an hour I felt like I was in the hot room of a Turks bath. I dont see how the Germans is so fat if they sleep between these things.

The young girl in a kimony on the cover of the Murad boxes gives you an idear how you sleep on a German bed. I never knew why she looked so discouraged before.

The old fello that owned the bed seemed kind of scared at first. I guess he thought after we found what it was like we might commit a few awtrocities just to put us to sleep.

We agreed to call off the awtrocities if hed leave his Frow cook us up a mess of waffles toot sweet. Frow is what they call there wives, Mable. I guess its short for Frowsie.

I got to start in forgettin my French now an begin on Dutch. I bet I talk pigen Inglish when I get home. I dont have much trouble with languiges tho. I can say quite a few things already like "Ya" and "Nine" an "Vas iss." Thats all right if your Just out for a social time but it aint any good in commershul life.

Its no use tellin you to rite I never get your letters.

yours disgustedly Bill

Dere Mable:

We crossed the Rine day before yesterday. It was Friday the 13th but the bridge held up in spite of it. The Rine didnt look like much to me. Im not much of a judge of rivers tho. Its been rainin for three days an it would take an awful lot of water in one place to make much impreshun on me.

We all thought we was goin to a town by the name of Coblence. The Mess sargent had told us everybody was to have a room to himself an that most of the time when we wasnt at the movies wed be canoin up an down the river. The armies got an idear tho that if you let a soldier get near anything thats worth while hell take it to pieces an cart it away. So they saved Coblence by goin around it.

That night we stuck the horses and guns in the front yard of a Chatto. It looked more like Central Park to me. The fello that owned the place was standin at the gate when we came in. He had on a green felt hat with the edges curled up like a derby an a feather stuck in it. I wouldnt have been surprised if hed started to yodel. I bet he was as glad to see us as the meesels. A regiment of field artilery walkin around your front yard aint no grass cultivator.

This isnt a bad place to lay over for a day tho. The town is built round a big cliff. On top is the ruins of an old cassel. Some of the town tried to clime up the side of the cliff an got stuck half way. In the house where Im bilited the front door is where it ought to be an the back door opens onto the street from the third floor. I can hear your mother sayin, "Run up in the attik, Mable, an see who that is knockin at the back door."

Theres a little stream runnin thru the town. Its very beautiful an full of tin cans. The sides are all bricked up. The Fritzes would make the trees grow square if they could. The hills go straight up all around us. I dont know how the stream ever got in here or how were goin to get out. It certinly is a useful place for artilery. About the only thing you could shoot out of here would be a skyrocket.

They told us we was goin to have yesterday to ourselves. Then the last minit they made us all take a bath. In the army they dont give you credit for knowin how or when to take a bath. They have a corperal there to show you. The one they had on the job yesterday must have learned from a correspondence school.

You dont get into a bath here. You take it out of something an spread it over you. This time theyd heated a big kettle of water in a wood shed. You dipped out a pailful an put some of it over you an the rest over your close. Just about the time youve got a good lather worked up the corperal says "Come on. Hurry up an get your close on. Your eight minits is up." Ford ought to get hold of that fello. Hed have them poppin out of the factory like corn out of a roaster.

I didnt get a bath, but I didnt need one. Me an Angus both took one the day after the armistice was signed. There aint nothin thatll keep a man fit like keepin clean as the poets say.

Everyones sore at these Dutchmen. They havnt got as much spirit as a bottle of near beer. All they do is take off there hats to us like we was a bunch of ladies an say "Tag." I thought first they was sayin "Dog." I went to the Captin an ast him if I could clean up with the next fello that said it.

The Captin said Tag was just Fritz for Howdy. Then I ast him if I could clean up half a dozen of them anyway just to get them started on the right lines. He says "Smith, if you try any of your back alley sanitashun around here youll be cleanin up around the gard house as quick as we get one." He thinks hes awful funny. Thats the way it goes, tho, Mable. One day your a quitter if you dont throw everything but the kitchin stove at a fello and the next day they want you to kiss him.

Im sendin you a lot of post cards I paid eighty two fennigs for. I dont know wether that was a bargin or a fortune. I never seen any places like these but they give you a good idear of the country. I got to quit now cause there linin up for mess. If I ever get out of this army I wont stand in line agen if they was handin out five dollar bills. If you want to go to the movies with me you got to go early an avoid the rush.

Tell Archie Wainwright I wish him a merry Crismus cause its liable to be his last. His only chance for a happy New Year is if the war breaks out agen.

Until it does yours Bill

Dere Mable: