Wednesday, June 27th, 1917 – Very hot

After arriving from Crystal Beach on the 8:15, I was met at the Buffalo dock by Father, Mother, and Spencer. Milton was not on hand because he understood I was to leave on Thurs day night. Upon arriving home, I completed what little packing I had not finished. While packing John B. called, and after making a few calls to the family, John and I left in his car for the NYC station with the hope of seeing the other boys off. We arrived just too late, so John took me to the Lehigh Valley station. I took leave of the folks, said farewell to John, and boarded the train which left on time.

Thursday, June 28th – Very hot

I had a very good night on the train, which arrived in Easton one and a half hours late. I walked up the hill and saw Mr. Smith, Mrs. Hatch, and a number of the boys and professors who were just finishing up summer school. Later I visited Mrs. Hatch and arranged to have my things sent home. I boarded the 11:30 train and arrived at 23rd St. at 1:30, then went immediately to the Waldorf Hotel and secured Room 43, between Mort Wilkinson and Irv Williams. After arranging my things, I boarded the “L” and went to the office of A.A.F.S. at No. 14. Wall St., received my passport and necessary papers without any difficulty, then went to the French Consul’s office and had my passport “visa-d.” I then took a surface car up Broadway to 33rd St. and walked to the hotel. No charge is required of men in uniform for riding on cars or subways. While I was taking a bath, Mort and Ed Lowery came in. I had a fine dinner at the Waldorf with Mort, and later walked up 5th to Central Park and back. After writing numerous letters and taking an other bath, I retired very much exhausted.

Waldorf Astoria Hotel – June 28th

I arrived in New York this afternoon after stopping in Easton to see Mr. Hatch and getting a few of my things. I received my passport and necessary documents and have been informed that we sail this Saturday afternoon on the Touraine of the French Line. I have a room next door to Mort Wilkinson, and Irving Williams shares the adjoining room with Reginald Leper. The hotel has given me a very cheap rate: four dollars a day, which includes three meals and a very comfortable room with a bath.

Tell Milton I am sorry he misunderstood the date of my leaving, and if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, please get him some kind of gift for his birthday. Tonight I walked up Fifth Ave. to Central Park with Mort. It is terribly hot here and my uniform is awfully heavy. Promising to write you full particulars of my voyage as soon as possible. I am,

Your loving son

Mort will cable our safe arrival to his mother and she will telephone you. Yes, I have written those letters.

Friday, June 29th – Rain and cooler

Arose at 9:30 very much refreshed, bathed, and had a very good breakfast with Irv and Reg Leper. I took the boys to the passport office to secure their papers, and then returned to the Waldorf for lunch. After lunch I sent to the French Line and obtained my ticket ($87.50), and found out that we were to sail Saturday at 3:00 on the liner Touraine.

After visiting Battery Park and the Aquarium, we went to visit Irv’s cousin (Mr. Bird 3rd) and obtained from him the use of his house in Paris. We returned to the hotel in time for dinner, later securing tickets for “Oh Boy” at $3 dollars apiece, but it was well worth the price. We returned to the hotel, and after a game of Five Hundred, we retired at about midnight. During the day I had obtained shoes and other required things at Abercrombie, Fitch and Co.

Saturday, June 30th – Cool and fair

I was awakened by a telephone call from Mort who was having trouble obtaining his papers. I got dressed immediately and took a telegram of Mort’s down to 14 Wall St. He finally received his papers, and then I took him to the other offices where he received his ticket and had his passport “visa-d.” I returned to the hotel and had a hurried lunch, finished packing, and had my baggage taken down. Upon applying for the bill, I found that the Buffalo office had taken all charges over to themselves. Mort and I had our baggage put on a taxi and accompanied it to the dock. I stayed with the baggage and saw that it was inspected and put aboard. Then I had my passport stamped and signed by U.S. authorities on the dock and went aboard. I found my bunk very comfortable. It was a lower in a room with four other bunks. It was also very hot and close, being in an inside stateroom. I immediately began looking around for a more favorable berth and found a very comfortable one for two, which I took possession of after seeing the head purser. Later a chap named Arthpach from Boston moved into the room. I left the cabin after getting settled and went on the deck. It was crowded with mothers and fathers and friends of the boys who were going to sail. After a while, I went on board again and took a deck chair on the starboard side. Three o’clock came and we did not sail. It was very noisy on account of the winches loading the ship. Four and five o’clock passed, and still we had failed to move. At 6:00 the whistle blew, dogs on the nearby wharfs barked, and answering whistles from the tugs made the air quite dizzy with confusion. Hurried goodbyes were said at the command “all aboard,” and a general rush for the gangplank ensued.

The hawsers were thrown off, and the boat quietly slipped out of the berth and proceeded down the river. The boys who had been supplied with American flags gathered along the rails and waved a last farewell to the crowds of people on the balcony of the dock. We passed Governor’s Island and the Statue of Liberty and entered the Narrows. Upon coming abreast of two U.S. destroyers and a cruiser, we maneuvered into position beside them with our bow pointing up the bay. Our curiosity as to this move was interrupted by a bell announcing dinner. I had previously been assigned to sit at table 51 in the upper dining room, first class. I was very fortunate, as we have the best service in this cabin. The meal was very good. I went on deck again after dinner to find that we were still lying beside the destroyers. It was a wonderful night, cool and clear.

In front of us the mass of lights from New York illuminated the horizon. Quite prominently the Statue of Liberty, illuminated by numerous search lights, stood out against the lights of the city. Newark Bay was studded with the lights of numerous ships lying at anchor, while from the mast-heads of the destroyers, signals were being continuously flashed. Under the spell of this beautiful scene of quiet and restfulness, I gradually fell asleep.

I was awakened shortly by a short blast of a whistle, very close and loud. Jumping up I saw that people were congregating on the port side of the boat, so following the crowd, I made my way to the rails and saw a large tug fastened to the side of the steamer. A gangplank had been lowered, and I noticed at the same time that the deck of the tug was piled with baggage. After the party came aboard, a group of American sailors formed a chain up the plank and moved the baggage aboard. I got into conversation with one of the Jackies and learned that the tug, the Patrol, belonged to the Mayor of New York, and thaft it had been detailed to carry the Italian Mission from Newark to our boat. There was quite a good deal of confusion when this became known on board. As soon as their baggage was aboard, the ship came about and started out to sea. We noticed that the two destroyers were convoying us, so we were very glad that the Italian Mission had come aboard. I retired about 12:30.