Beaumont
I've read war described as long periods of boredom broken up with moments of absolute terror. Tuesday I spent time in places where my grandfather and his comrades experienced that kind of terror. In the spring of 1918 they were scattered at aid stations across several square miles near a protrusion in the Western Front called the St. Mihiel Salient. I visited villages called Mandres-aux-Quatre-Tours, Rambucourt, Ansauville and Beaumont. Today they are sleepy farming villages. The loudest sounds are made by trucks rumbling through. Back in 1918 it was artillery fire from 77 mm German guns and gas shells exploding nearby. Grant survived a couple of run-ins with chemical warfare, but wound up in the hospital for several days... and he may have had lung problems for the rest of his life.
Rambucourt
April 19, 1918: "Our last trip down from Mandres took us through the fumes of a fruit gas shell which broke ahead of us right in the middle of the road. We were making pretty good time so it didn’t get us badly except in mind. My orderly, McDonald, a very plucky boy, got sick to his stomach and when we got in to the hospital we were ordered to stay in for the night. Boatman took my car and Mac and I went to bed pretty sick to our stomachs with eyes smarting and blood-shot... I found my car at Ménil-la-Tour all whole and we went back to Vignot with the Lieut. There we were met by a Captain who sentenced us to the hospital. Sunday and Monday were spent between sheets in the 104th Field Hospital where we received gas treatment and liquid diet. We were glad of the rest, but the liquid diet almost killed us because we hadn’t eaten very much on the two preceding days. Our day hospital sergeant was an ex-movie actor who was drafted. His assistant was a mechanic in Chicago. The night Sergeant was a bar tender in New York before being drafted so one can imagine what kind of care we had when the doctors were not around. They did the best they knew how."
Ansauville
Rambucourt
April 19, 1918: "Our last trip down from Mandres took us through the fumes of a fruit gas shell which broke ahead of us right in the middle of the road. We were making pretty good time so it didn’t get us badly except in mind. My orderly, McDonald, a very plucky boy, got sick to his stomach and when we got in to the hospital we were ordered to stay in for the night. Boatman took my car and Mac and I went to bed pretty sick to our stomachs with eyes smarting and blood-shot... I found my car at Ménil-la-Tour all whole and we went back to Vignot with the Lieut. There we were met by a Captain who sentenced us to the hospital. Sunday and Monday were spent between sheets in the 104th Field Hospital where we received gas treatment and liquid diet. We were glad of the rest, but the liquid diet almost killed us because we hadn’t eaten very much on the two preceding days. Our day hospital sergeant was an ex-movie actor who was drafted. His assistant was a mechanic in Chicago. The night Sergeant was a bar tender in New York before being drafted so one can imagine what kind of care we had when the doctors were not around. They did the best they knew how."
Ansauville
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