Article of War No. 105 and 2,175 Bottles of Champagne
On December 26, 1918, 674 soldiers of the Third Army, including corporals and sergeants, 174 second lieutenants, ninety-two lieutenants, fifteen captains, and three majors, received orders to attend a military school in Châtillon-sur-Seine. One of the students was our good friend and companion Corporal Jesse Pérez. On December 28, they arrived in Toul, France, and came across a shipment of 2,175 bottles of champagne meant for Monsieur Charles Barlaband. The warrior spirit did not fail them as they took the shipment of bottles by storm. The joy that came from that unexpected event is impossible to describe, but it rivals their surprise on April 29, 1919, when General Headquarters handed them Article of War No. 105. They were forced to make restitution for the value of the liquor, some damages, and other losses. Each soldier or officer was fined according to rank. Corporal Jesse Carter was fined 14.98 francs. Jesse still sighs to this day when he recalls the escapade. He states, “I don’t feel aggrieved, what I feel is pain.” The others would agree and will want to forget the incident. They believe they paid a just price.
Wednesday, April 30
The morning broke with much snow on the mountains and everything was very beautiful.
I made each one of my students a postcard.
We received passes to go to the great city of Paris. Sergeant Kelleher and I will go together. We have shared wretched moments and now look forward to an enjoyable trip. Besides, we think the same and share a general view of the world. We started our preparations. Salinas, Barrera, and Treviño have loaned me some money. Lieutenant Ayers offered to help. I cannot explain why I never took the time to visit him and accept his offer.
THE AMERICANS VISIT THE GREAT CITY OF LIGHT—PARIS
We were ready for the trip early in the morning. We had prepared all our passports and the many other documents the military required. Some say that France does not offer enough sightseeing to justify all the trouble we are going through. The problem may be ours and not that France offers little to see and enjoy. In any case, we will carry the documents in case we need them.
We ate a good breakfast and prepared our lunch. Although we do not know what we are getting into, we figured out the train’s departure time and set our watches to the clock in the office. The train—if that is what we are to call the poor excuse of a machine that is to take us—arrived ten minutes early. We had to run after it. Luckily, it runs slow or we would have required a good running start to catch up. It reminded me of the slow-moving trains from Kansas.
We enjoyed the scenery once we settled into our small seats. Most everybody stood because of a lack of seating. The tracks run along the river’s left bank. In Bernkastel-Kues we saw the circus the 90th set up for the troops. I hear that the circus is complete, especially in terms of horses and other beasts of burden they paraded about. We had a three-hour layover in Trier, went for a walk, and made our first stop at a Knights of Columbus stand to get all the information we needed on the place. Afterward, we visited the historic Porta Nigra castle, which dates back to the time when these towns were part of the great Roman Empire. We visited the basilica, an amazing and magnificent building that serves as a Pauline church. Lastly, we saw the old Roman public baths and the ruins of the sumptuous castle of Augustus Caesar, the Roman Emperor. We ate at a Red Cross station for a nominal amount.
We left for Paris at 1:45 and passed by Schweich, Karthaus, and Remich (Luxembourg) on the other side of the Moselle. This last place brought back memories. We finally arrived at the fort city of Metz and spent four hours waiting for another train. We have been on the trip for a day but have only traveled two hours. The soldiers are frustrated to no end because they have been ordered to stay in the train station. The place is very beautiful but it is a prison to us. Heavy gates keep us from reaching the lovely city. I have no idea why we are kept inside. We apparently took the city to hand it over to the French, but we cannot visit it now that they have taken possession of it. The only official explanation is that officers fear the “Boches” left many mines behind since this was their most important fortification after Verdun. So be it. What a fate for the poor Sammies if we had attacked this wall of China! This is the little job the French had given us. Who knows what we would have suffered or what would have happened if we had not taken it. What I do know is that the Germans hightailed it out of there as soon as they heard our cannon. They called the truce the next day, on November 11. The Germans do not admit fear. They prefer to say they took “precautions.”
Our long stay here gives us no choice but to strike up conversations with the other waiting passengers. Trains are constantly coming and going with civilians while the victorious soldiers ride in wagons meant for horses. Who knows when we will be able to say “the best for our troops.” During the fighting we would say, “We cannot expect the best while at war.” Now that we are at peace, or in a truce, we will say, “Let the lion get his fill first, the rest of the wild animals can eat later.” We were not able to enter into good conversations with the people from here. If I am not mistaken they are all Germans and resent the Sammies that spoiled their dreams. I met a poor “poilu,” or French soldier, who could have told me everything, truth and all. The poor fellow really wanted to talk but had to board a train right away. Our rest time was taken up by moving between the upper and bottom platforms of the station because the trains were arriving at both levels. We left for Novéant-Toul at nine. I do not recall when we arrived but it was very late. We were worn out but happy because we were on our way to the city of light. Such human misery! We will have to tell everyone in America about this so that when we have another war they do not miss the opportunity to travel at the government’s expense.
We were barely able to locate some worn cots at a place run by the Knights of Columbus. They were in such bad shape we decided to sleep on some tables. We were fine-looking tourists traveling the beautiful and free France and enjoying the privileges reserved for victorious soldiers.
Friday, May 2
We did not sleep much, “ours was not a bed of roses.” We were told that a train was leaving for Paris at 6:30 a.m. and asked the ticket agent if we could buy tickets with our own money. He agreed to sell us the tickets but warned us that military orders prevented us from using them. We were so angry we decided to proceed with our plans. We made the mistake of believing a French soldier who offered to buy our tickets. He bought them, but this did not help. When we tried to board a passenger train, the officers stopped us and severely reprimanded the agent. What do we care! The train for the soldiers and animals was arriving at 9:30. We had breakfast and toured Toul. Our MPs, or military police, were everywhere. They gave us hostile looks, but would not tell us anything. We were tired and visited a cemetery for a short peaceful rest.
Our luck as American tourists was so bad we even feared that the dead would rise and scare us. The cemetery was very interesting and since no one could tell us anything, we explored to our heart’s content. We asked an MP as we walked briskly out of the cemetery if Sammies were allowed to walk the city streets while waiting for the train. He said we could and even recommended some interesting places to visit. That is the first friendly policeman I have met. We went into a fort since it seemed the most appealing site for the soldiers that we are. We found so many old cannon with hellish mouths to kill the barbarians of this world! This is the St. Michael fort. Another less important fort was situated at the nearby Barene hill. We visited the cathedral, a beautiful and historically important building. We also visited the door known as the Joan of Arc. The general vista of Toul is very beautiful from the hills. We had to climb down because it was starting to rain and it was time for the cattle train to arrive. I bought some postcards at one of the stores. The rain turned cold and everything took on a grayish look as the water poured from the buildings.
We arrived in time to catch the train and pile up alongside French soldiers. We had never seen a more pathetic sight when we got off at Bar-le-Duc! The name of the place, Bar-le-Duc, will always have a familiar ring to our ears! The barracks were dirty and deserted. We had a difficult time finding something to eat and what we did find was very bad and expensive. More soldiers began arriving from all over. Most of them were French. I was able to carry on good conversations with them. This is how I learned about everything we want to see in Paris. I found it strange that most of them are not from Paris. They are backwoodsmen who only travel through Paris and know nothing of the city. That was one of our most wretched nights, just a notch above dying. The French soldiers look so bad! What must they say of us? They do not act like saints simply because they are soldiers.
Saturday, May 3
We left for Paris at 6:30. It was a lovely day. Everything started to look up when we took note of the good speed of the train and the circumstances of our trip. We would have loved to visit many of the important places along the way. The entire route is lined with white crosses in fields of red poppies. They mark the graves of the French heroes who gave their lives for the homeland. Nothing else appears before us, the entire area looks like a big cemetery. This gives an idea of the great loss of men that France suffered. All the crosses bear an emblem with the colors of the French flag. This is Holy Cross day and the whole area has been made to look attractive, but it still looks sad when we think about what all this represents. These men died resisting the German offensive. On the sides of the railroad tracks, by the foot of some hill, and in trenches or ditches of all sorts, so many crosses remind us that brave men fought until they died and that they made the Germans pay for every inch of territory they took. The fighting was horrific for the ill prepared. German soldiers were well equipped, especially with their truck-mounted artillery units that protected the infantry. They would always catch up with the retreating French troops, who inevitably died. The Germans rode roughshod over them on their way to Paris. I cannot place a flower on each grave, but I have one in my thoughts for all these French martyrs. Glory to them! Red poppies, like in Flanders Field.
We continued in deep thought until someone announced that we were close to Paris. The train had actually already reached the eastern entrance leading to the gardens of the great city. The engine’s whistle finally stopped and we realized we were at the East station. A large number of French and American soldiers were waiting when we arrived. Not one familiar soul appeared in the immense sea of people, nor did they give us a friendly welcome. We arrived in Paris at 1:15 and ate at the French Red Cross. We were joined by another soldier who knew nothing about Paris and had come to discover the city on his own. I bought a map so we could get our bearings. After our meal, we took Chabrol Street until reaching Lafayette and the nearby Grand Opera. We rented a hotel room and met up with a very young Frenchman who knew some English. We talked at length and discovered that he was a Parisian. My friends asked that he accompany us. He readily accepted, probably because that is what he wanted to do all along. We ate at a luxurious nightclub, but we were self-conscious because of our ragged appearance, and especially of our lowly rank. The meal was also very expensive. We had an especially difficult time handling the slow rhythm of life among the class of people frequenting these places. They spent at least two hours drinking a cup of dark coffee. The place was meant for talking, not eating. We then went to the French Theater, one of the most famous in Paris. We once again took note of our boldness as we entered the theater in a soldier’s uniform. It did not matter, we had fought for these institutions and we believe in our right to step on the soft carpeting with our well-worn boots. The Germans would not have shown any respect and would have damaged the carpeting with their boots and spurs. A delightful work was presented on stage. I could not describe the luxury that paraded before us that special evening, which included so many important people from all over the world and all kinds of nobility. The theatrical presentation was either “The Seasons of the Year” or “The Life of a Man,” and the beautiful paintings depicted the Follies of Jean de la Bruyère. The stage setting with the sublime music seemed so strange to us. We did not stay to the end but we did not arrive on time either. We were not interested in a full, critical analysis of the play, but wanted to see as much as possible in a short period of time. We left and made room for people with binoculars and monocles in a standing-room audience. Regarding the Parisian ladies, I could not see past their ostentatious luxury and overdone colors and powders. The meager supper and the theater tickets were too expensive at 28 francs for each of us.
The rain was coming down hard when we left the theater and we were forced to call it a night.
Sunday, May 4
MORE LIGHT THAN THE RAYS OF THE SUN
This is Sunday and we had a miserly, expensive, and bad breakfast in a French restaurant. From this point on, we went about the city without a guide since our French companion had disappeared. We immediately decided to visit the Notre-Dame Cathedral. While at the cathedral, we were given some mementos and bought others for our children and wives. The Seine flows on both sides because the cathedral is located on an island. A small garden and the Palace of Justice are to the far west. A good number of bridges cross the Seine. We followed its left bank and visited an institute, the Orleans train station, the Chamber of Deputies, Saint Sulpicius, and a bridge that led us to Concorde Square. We saw many beautiful statues at both ends of the bridge. Concorde Square is very lovely, with an obelisk in its center that Napoleon I is said to have brought from Egypt. We visited the Tuileries Garden and saw the famous statue of Gambetta. We went by the Nouvéant Circus, stood before the Royal Palace, then at the Champs-Élysées, the Crystal Palace, the Royal Palaces, the American Episcopal Church, and the Arch of Triumph. Many captured German cannon of all calibers were at the Arch of Triumph and Concorde Square, as well as in other squares and at the beautiful Place de l’Étoile. We also saw the statue of Victor Hugo on Victor Hugo Avenue, Trocadero Square, and the Palace of Gardens. Trocadero Avenue is now known as the President Wilson since July 4, 1918. Our sightseeing took us to the Eiffel Tower and the great Ferris wheel. At the Pantheon, I asked two Mexicans about the whereabouts of General Porfirio Díaz’s tomb and remains and was told that they had already been returned to Mexico. Our next destination was the tomb of Napoleon I and a private museum. We came to the museum by accident. Its owner was kind enough to let us see his wonderful collection of art. It is situated across the street from the National Hotel for the Disabled.
We were very tired and found lodging at the American Red Cross. After supper, we went for a walk that did not turn out well because everything got dark quickly. We saw something at a large public area that we did not like. Some Parisian beauties were taking a stroll with two black men who seemed rich and educated. After wandering around aimlessly, we retired for the night.
I forgot to note that we went to the popular business district where we bought souvenirs and saw the biggest displays of silks and textiles in Paris. Some businesses remain open on Sundays. We especially liked their wide boulevards with few cars in the streets, especially in areas reserved for pedestrian traffic. A place like this would have been noisy in America. We also failed to see utility wires, which detract so much from the beauty of American towns. We missed our unsightly streets with so many cigarette and vehicle advertisements.
Paris, city of light! Fate has granted me the opportunity to come and see you as you really are. Lovely city of indescribable charm, of pleasures never imagined by men from other lands, men lacking in the “light” of intellectual achievement and practical development. The city has inherited much from advanced civilizations that have disappeared from the face of the earth. Vice and virtue walk your streets and flow through the center of your heart. The light of Lucifer is mistaken for the light of the Archangel Michael, the hissing of tempting serpents intermixes with the music of the divine, Satan’s palaces appear close to the Louvre and Notre-Dame, and the enticing songs of sirens seek to eclipse the sweet assuring cooing of doves and the resonant rhythm of Christian prayers.
My partner in adventure and I were walking in the middle of that unknown place after a night that had been so completely new to us. We dismissed our interpreter because we wanted to experience and enjoy everything directly and immediately.
I do not know if we have found what we were seeking or if it was time to find it. We gave ourselves to the study of aged walls of the many palaces with world appeal, all the while listening to the sweet and harmonious sounds that make up this great city on a pleasant day in May. Military tunes, music, the trilling and warbling of innocent birds, the gurgling of happy fountains, the rustling leaves of luxuriant trees, the happy laughter of people doing their daily chores, and the songs and laughter of women who are full of life and ready for pleasure. Out of nowhere, an American soldier approached us in the street and told us, “Yes, my friends, this is the place you were searching. Make sure you go inside, otherwise you will miss the best that Paris has to offer.” The soldier’s austere appearance reflected a deep sadness rather than joy. He was not your Bohemian-type person, but neither was he the virile soldier at inspection. He was in a daze. We did not know him. He quickly disappeared into the crowd of animated pedestrians.
We went up the few steps to the door of the palace-looking building without knowing what we wanted. Instinct or mere curiosity moved us forward. We did not have to knock. A well-dressed young man invited us in with the typical Parisian politeness that either reflected a way of life, natural ability, or the results of good breeding. We asked where we were and the meaning of the place. In a very refined language and with the accompanying gestures to spare, he proceeded to explain something that we could not understand until he noted the admission price. My buddy asked me to explain what the young man was saying, and I replied, “I don’t understand anything. The only thing I know is that the admission is 30 francs or 6 dollars. It might be best to see if such a steep price is worth it or not. We could come back.” The young salesman had started his spiel again when my buddy announced with some enthusiasm, “Let’s go in. Let’s see what they have to offer so we don’t have to hear it from someone else.”
The door to a luxurious room opened up as soon as we paid. Streams of brilliant light and waves of sweet aromas filled our senses. Our ears were filled with the sweet cadence of delightfully harmonious sounds that came from an unknown place. The entire room was covered with rich carpeting and sumptuous veils and silks. A ravishing woman rested on a soft divan of blue-green velvet. This evoked the memory of Eve, the woman who has been exalted and celebrated over the ages because of her God-given beauty. We took in the human spectacle with eyes aflame. We could sense that she was breathing alluring sensations into our being.
“You can take off the covers to get a better look,” said the guide. With our rough hands, we removed the few fine silks, the transparent veils, and sheer fabric that barely covered the entirety of her form. She was a faithful representation of Eden’s gardener during the first days of creation. Her rosy cheeks would occasionally form a sweet smile that was a distant memory of a modest life that had been recently lost.
We entered another room that was even more impressive. Another beauty was reclining on a soft divan. Her attractive features took on a different appearance, in color, size, shape, and position.
Entranced, dazed, and practically disoriented, we followed the guide from room to room. We were not in a condition to count them. We later figured out that we had toured seventy-eight rooms. We took in the parlor scenes with eyes of wild passion, as bold men of the world at the peak of our strength.
We were out of place with our unwelcoming, tough, and rough appearance. It contrasted with the beauty that graced the rooms of light and wealth. We were uniformed and right out of the war’s front and with the obvious signs of fierce battle experiences. We had also been walking on the expensive carpeting of Cleopatra’s elegant confines with our heavy shoes with steel heels, rows of large-headed nails, and leather soles.
Our coarse uniformed appearance was not all. We also displayed a fierce base instinct seeking the magnetic lure of regenerative forces that perpetuates the human race on earth. This paints a reliable picture of the American soldier in the city of light.
We were not in a condition to truly admire and appreciate those curly, silky locks, the small eyebrows, and the eyelashes over eyes that beckoned. These looks did not necessarily belong to the sensually debased, enslaved, or wild woman, but to the woman who is educated in our schools and colleges, the product of our modern civilization, but nevertheless a prisoner in her own chains. It was impossible to deny that her incomparable mouth could send out the unmistakable sense of infernal fire that can give life, delight, inspiration, or death to man.
An eclipse seemed to be blocking the sun when we walked out into the street. This is when we came to understand why the soldier looked stunned when he said, “This is where you will find the best and most beautiful in Paris.”
Monday, May 5
We prepared for our return early in the morning. We had passes to continue going out, but had run out of “coins,” and we felt it best to leave and let Uncle Sam continue taking care of us until he turned us loose. We arrived early at the train station and bought our tickets. There are many things to buy. We regret having wasted five and a half francs on a ticket at Toul. As the saying goes, “No matter how early you get up, you can’t make the sun rise any sooner.”
We once again spent a few hours at the military camp in Bar-le-Duc. The visit was boring and agonizing. To make matters worse, it was very hot that day, with nowhere to hide from the sun or to find fresh drinking water. We saw all types of French soldiers with various kinds of uniforms from different colonies or French possessions. Most of them are black and may be from Africa or islands close to Africa or from Asia. This is one reason—as forced as it may be—why the Parisian women feel they should associate with black men.
We left very late for Toul on a train that was not assigned to us. We acted as if we did not know anything and boarded. The conductor checked our tickets and told us we were on the wrong train but that we could go on to Toul where we could catch our own train the next day. This was a thousand times better than waiting at the camp, riding the same train all night, sleeping in a poor bed, and eating badly prepared food. Everything is different in the city. If we do not eat, it is because we are out of money. The city has all the amenities that are lacking in a military camp for privates like us. The camps also usually look bad.
The train had few soldiers because it was not designated for us. We got good rooms and beds in Toul and ate at a Knights of Columbus restaurant where we had long conversations with soldiers traveling to and from Paris. They included green recruits as well as seasoned foxes, worldly men. We had made our plans for the next day by the time we bedded down for the night.
Tuesday, May 6
The train we should have taken arrived at dawn. We did not regret switching trains, especially since the one we took was clearly better. The soldiers who had just arrived would not leave until the afternoon. We boarded the first train that arrived and relied on our “best judgment” to answer questions from the conductor. When he asked if we had been on the train that had just arrived, we answered that we had not and showed him the tickets from the previous day as proof. He shook his head and informed us that the train we wanted was only going to Nancy and that we would not be gaining much by taking it. We insisted and he let us on. We did not want to ride on a cattle train. Best of all, we would be visiting Nancy, something that would be impossible to do if we took the other train. We stepped off the train at the historic and beautiful city of Nancy.
We took Constitution Street to the cathedral, Nancy’s solemn home for Christian prayers. The city has many old, heavy metal and bronze doors. The locals have preserved them as works of arts from a distant era. Artisans from a long time ago forged them with hand and hammer over iron anvils. The lamps over the doors were once lighted with wicks of cloth or candles, later with oil, and now with electricity and gas. Who knows what else will light them in the future. Another public place of note is Place Stanislas with its Governor’s Palace and the Cathedral behind it. The semicircle at La Carrière is just as beautiful.
Soon after our walk, we boarded another train that took us through some of the most important places we could ever imagine: Jezainville, Pont Mousson, Norroy, Novéant, and Epagny. We passed by fields that we painted red with the blood of our companions in military life. The Saint-Mihiel sector will live forever in our memories. Our minds replayed many unforgettable experiences. Everything was like a dream, except that our memories were real.
We arrived at Metz, but all we did was transfer to another train and continue on our way. A German who was about fourteen years of age and spoke English boarded the train. He came to the school in Metz every day. When we asked where he had learned English, he said the Metz school requires English and French. He does not know what changes the war will bring, but French will probably serve as the official language and students will be expected to also study English and German.
The 89th Division occupies the towns on the route to Trier. We saw many of its soldiers quartered along the way and arrived in time to retire for the evening. Since the trains will not be leaving for Zeltingen until the morning, we located a place for the night and went sightseeing around the city. It looks beautiful with all its lights. Everything was new to us. We are a day ahead of the train that had been assigned to us. This has given us the time to visit and learn about the towns that we passed through. This is the first and last time the military will have given us a pass to see Europe. We may never have this opportunity again. We have enjoyed the trip as much as a low-ranking but intelligent soldier is able to do and are grateful to Uncle Sam for this.
Wednesday, May 7
We greeted the morning in good spirits and felt well rested after a good night’s sleep. We know Trier well since we have visited it several times. Despite this, we decided to visit it again, perhaps for the last time. It is unbelievable, but we are ready to get back to our barrack.
We did not have to wait long for our train. We boarded quickly and seemed to have reached Zeltingen in a shorter amount of time. While resting by the Moselle, we gave our friends an account of everything we saw, but not about what we did. Few people share their disappointments.
We checked for mail, and, sure enough, many letters and even newspapers were waiting for us. We barely read all our letters during the assigned time and then prepared our report to close the day and rest.
Thursday, May 8
We awoke to a beautiful day and busied ourselves with the preparations for our trip home. A strange and unfortunate turn of events occurred today. A fellow in a nearby town had been eagerly waiting for the day of his departure. He had bought many nice gifts to take home. While saying his good-byes around the town, he climbed a pole with a live wire that supplied electricity to the region. The soldier slipped and fell on the cable and was immediately electrocuted. It took a while for the plant to cut off the electricity and remove the body. Once the service was cut off, the body fell but the shoes, including the feet, stuck to the wire. It was a horrible death.
I sent some things home, the soldiers organized a ball game, and we marched some. We will only be here a few more days and our happiness will begin.
Friday, May 9
The morning was beautiful and we started the day in good spirits. I went to my class and told my friends that we would soon finish with our studies but that they should continue with their learning in America and that I would be checking on them. I felt inspired when I saw the changing of the guard with the musical sound of the band.
I am overjoyed that my companions have done well as soldiers, and I have even noticed that the major, “the Indian” as he is called, prefers them as guards for our grand reviews. The Indian makes a good soldier when a real one is needed here or anywhere else, but please do not make him into someone he is not.1
During the afternoon, I visited some friends who I am also teaching to read and found them sad and discouraged. They were gambling with dice. What a shame that they cannot find a better way to spend their time! How can we expect them to be any different when they return home! Will their military service have made them so full of themselves that they will repeat the mistakes of the character in “The Sleeper and the Waker”?2 I can see that the majority of them will not make good use of their contributions in the war and will think they served simply because they could not avoid the draft. Mexican Americans will face a tremendous challenge as civilians. The very unfortunate circumstance of war was just beginning to bring us together and teach us some useful lessons.
Some Americans beat up several Germans, and the authorities condemned the act as despicable and cowardly. Our soldiers exploited many advantages they had over the Germans.
We had a good time playing baseball.
The morning was beautiful. Nothing is more pleasant than the aroma of the many flowers in the gardens and on the mountain. The tall trees that someone planted in straight lines are now well-planned and productive forests, and the vegetation has grown beautifully after much rain and snow. The warmth of the sun brings life as it moves along on its tropical journey. I am contemplating all of this from a bench in the garden.
We had to go to Bernkastel-Kues for our pay. We made the trip by train. Although we could have walked, we wanted to have something to talk about and more time for sightseeing. Bernkastel-Kues are two towns that are joined by a beautiful bridge across the Moselle. The mountains that rise from the banks of the river are a source of sustenance for the towns. They also provide a beautiful panorama. Some very old castles rest on the mountaintops. Each one of them represents a chapter in history. We returned as soon as we received our pay.
We noticed a horrible hatred toward the French in these places.
I passed the time with Gómez and Barrera at their home.
Sunday, May 11
The German people are happy to see us leave, but they also fear the French might come and take charge. The followers of the Kaiser fear the enemies they made when they mistreated defenseless women and children.
Someone in church sermonized against mixing with the Americans. We see nothing wrong in trying to protect their women from irresponsible soldiers. We also appreciate their precarious situation because the American soldiers are the only ones with a lot of time on their hands and money to spend freely. The German men, on the other hand, do not have the means to please their women, and it makes sense that they should take up with Americans rather than their own countrymen. Someone captured the meaning of things when he said, “Hardship can be made to justify anything”3 We could also say that there is nothing odd about soldiers marrying women from countries they have defeated in war. Many of our soldiers have chosen French wives and others have married Germans. How long can this continue? We cannot answer this question, but can say that marriages will improve relations between nations. We have seen this after the conquests of Alexander the Great and in many other cases. This is natural. The German people can expect a generation of their own children among the poor and needy classes. After losing so many men in war, this will be their best gain. They win by losing. This leads the Germans to criticize their women, often with a good number of posters with caricatured images. One of them is ingenious and satirical. It shows the US government sending home a boat full of soldiers followed by another one of equal size with their wives and children. These posters have appeared in towns where American soldiers are stationed. Many soldiers are sending ahead of themselves their French and German wives. How many American girls are going to be left out! How many women will remain alone and without a husband! Some people are predicting that a scarcity of men will produce a wave of vice, crime, and moral laxity all over the world.
Many of our soldiers take leisurely walks by the Moselle, while others lie in the shade under the trees. They talk about the much-anticipated departure. Who can fault us?
Monday, May 12
We did not have reveille today. The horses that pull the machine gun and small cannon have been turned in so that they can be taken to the dock. We have received orders to turn in all the baseball equipment and to no longer lend it out. We know our voyage is no longer a dream.
Zeltingen, Germany
May 12, 1919
My dear loved ones:
May God take care of you! I am doing well.
I have little to say but this may be the best news for you. We are packing all our things as we prepare to leave this land to return to our own. Absent any problems, we will leave next Sunday and see each other soon. Everything is going so well that it is hard to believe.
With love,
LUZ
We received a letter from our division commander today with a message from General John J. Pershing, commander in chief of the Expeditionary Forces in France. It states:
90th Division Headquarters
American Expeditionary Forces in Germany
April 3, 1919
Order of the Day No. 16:
1. The division commander takes great pleasure in making public the following letter from the commander in chief of the Expeditionary Forces.
2. Each officer and each private of the 90th Division shall receive a copy of the letter
American Expeditionary Forces
Office of the Commander in Chief
France, April 26, 19194
To Major General Charles H. Martin
90th Division Commander
American Expeditionary Forces
My Dear General Martin:
It gives me much pleasure to congratulate you and, through you, the officers and men of your division on the splendid appearance you made during the inspection and review of April 24 at Wengerohr. The fitting appearance of your personnel and the good condition of the draught animals and artillery are clear signs of the high morale that permeates the ranks. We did not expect anything less from a division with such a fine fighting record.
Arriving in France toward the end of June 1918, it underwent training away from the fighting until the end of August. It was then placed in the Villers-en-Hays sector and there took part in the Saint-Mihiel offensive, where it attacked the fortified positions on the Hindenburg line immediately to the west of the Moselle River. It achieved complete success in three operations, mopping up the Bois-des-Rappes, occupying the town of Vilcey-sur-Trey, the Boisde-Pretre and the Foret-de-Vencers, and advancing for more than six and one-half kilometers. The division joined the Meuse-Argonne offensive on the night of October 21, taking the town of Bantheville and the high ground north and northwest of that town. It continued with its splendid record during the incredible attack of November 1, reaching the Freya Stellung, crossing the Meuse and taking fourteen villages in its advance. The Carriere Farm, the Boisde-Raux, Hill 243 (the capture of which was vital to the advance of the division toward the left) and Hill 321 were the scenes of desperate fighting on the opening day of the attack. The division took Villes-de-Tailly, Bois-de-Mont, Bois-de-Sassey and the town of Montigny-devant-Sassey on November 2 with an offensive that was as quick as it was far-reaching. It took Halles on the fourth day. By the tenth day, the infantry had crossed the Meuse and taken the town of Mouzay. The division was pressing the enemy hard when the armistice was signed.
As part of the Third Army, the division participated in the march into Germany and the subsequent occupation of enemy territory. I am pleased to note the excellent comportment of our soldiers under these difficult circumstances as well as for their record in battle. They are a source of pride for the American people. I wish to express my own gratitude to each man for their splendid manner of serving their country and to assure them of my heartfelt concern for their well-being.
Sincerely yours,
JOHN J. PERSHING
By order of Major General Martin:
John J. Kingman, Chief of Staff
Officer: Owen J. Watas, Adviser
For the soldier J. Luz Sáenz
I received another letter from Secretary of the Interior Franklin Knight Lane. He commends my plan and good intentions to contribute to the Americanization of the many sons of our nation who took part in the war but who do not feel or have ever felt like complete Americans in body and soul and who have not been extended this privilege or been accepted politically and socially for who they are. I am very pleased if Washington finds my plan acceptable, and I really hope it does not remain a proposal.
Gómez gave me a picture of himself and other soldiers in K.P. uniforms.
I wrote home. The rain came down hard in the afternoon. I gave away some things to my friends.
Tuesday, May 13
The dawn was beautiful. After breakfast, I searched for a newspaper to get the latest news from home. A possible war with Mexico is receiving much public attention. I read something about it but I do not believe the conflict is imminent. Things have been postponed, I can believe that.
Spring is here in celestial splendor. Our happiness may have something to do with how we observe things. We would not be the same if circumstances were different. What we now consider marvels of nature might not have drawn our attention when we were trudging along during the war. At this time, it is enough to view the fields or to be more attentive to know that life has changed completely. The green in the fields has never sparkled so beautifully, the melodious birds have never trilled so sweetly, and we can now appreciate the picturesque streets we disliked just a few days ago. If things were not as they are, this would not be Europe. I viewed this from a bench in the garden.
Wednesday, May 14
I saw Captain Joe Maxwell yesterday. I thought he was already in America but he is still around. I sent a gift to my brother José.
The usual slow pace cut into this beautiful, warm morning, but an order to inspect our equipment broke the monotony. We dressed quickly and put everything in its place. Hopefully, this will be the last inspection, at least in Germany. We were also ordered to burn all the Intelligence Department files. We gladly complied but not without feeling that a good part of our souls went with the records, including the best we had rendered in war and peace. We also destroyed the other files in our office.
Rumors of the impending war with Mexico continue. This is interesting. We came to build peace in Europe and now find that the roosters are all stirred up at our own ranch. It could not come at a worse time! Many people talk about a war between Mexico and Japan and that someone’s ship has been sunk. We could care less about the ship. We were in Paris when we read that the Morgans and other millionaires are planning to ask England and France for their approval—not their support—to intervene. The opportunistic drones were not satisfied with Europe’s honey. When asked for my opinion, I have stated, “I’m ready with my rifle, cartridge belt, and knapsack to take a position on the front lines, as long as I am accompanied by greedy millionaires like Morgan and Rockefeller, malicious journalists who have sown discord between other nations, all the slackers, and everyone who bears ill will against my raza in Texas and other states.”
Zeltingen, Germany
May 14, 1919
My dear wife:
I am writing this letter with great anticipation. Everything points to our departure. This may be the last time I write from Germany. Everything is ready. We will leave on Saturday rather than Sunday, which is so much better. No submarine will impede our way this time. This does not mean the sea is free of danger. Our voyage, like overland travel, has its risks. Who can deny that? We could even die eating pinole.5
We should thank God for everything he has done for us since we are returning with a load on our backs and not in a coffin. It is better to be flying our flag instead of being wrapped in it, even if the honor is the same.
You told me in your last letter that the countryside is beautiful and the year seems to be starting out better than previous ones. I pray to God that this year will be better for everyone. The hardship of the war may entitle us to this.
Spring has also just arrived and everything is beautiful. This season’s changes are new to me and this is why they are so delightful.
Tell my little ones that I will soon be with them and that I will tell them stories of the old world and the sea.
I will close because I want the letter to go out today. This is the last day that we are allowed to write from Germany. This means I will be close to home when you receive this letter. Who knows, I may get there first. This would be best, right?
I send all of you my very best regards.
LUZ