Sunday, July 8th – Fair and warm

Arose as usual at 11:00 A.M. In the morning, mass was held by a French priest and in the afternoon Protestant services were held in the saloon. The night being wonderful, I decided to sleep on deck. The passengers were all advised to do this to facilitate matters in case we struck a sub. I lay awake a long time, looking at the beautiful sky. The moon was shining very brightly. About 3:15 it started to grow light in the east. The sky was wonderful. My watch on Sunday was uneventful, as were indeed all the watches. We passed very few vessels on the voyage and they were long distances off, probably tramp steamers.

Monday, July 9th – Cool and clear

As I did not get to sleep until late this morning, I slept until 3:00, just in time to get my men on watch, which was uneventful. Played cards after supper until 9:00 and then went on deck. It was extremely dark and a light rain had blown up. I was standing by the rail with Bid, watching the phosphorescent jelly fish in the water when one of the fellows ran up to us and asked us to follow him. When we acquiesced he descended the companionway to the Second Deck. At the bottom of the steps, we found a figure all crumpled up and groaning. We picked him up and carried him to the ship’s hospital in the forecastle. In the darkness he had fallen down the companionway, and was only slightly injured. I went to bed about 1:00 and awoke about 4:30. I noticed that the ship had stopped so I hurried up on deck. We had at last sighted land. We could see the light from the lighthouse flash at irregular intervals, and along the horizon stood out a rugged fringe of hills. Off our port side, the pilot ship was pitching in the heavy sea. Soon a little boat came over its side and started for our ship. I went down to the second deck and watched the pilot come aboard. He was a funny, grizzled old man, and he said “bonjour” as he stepped aboard and proceeded to the bridge. The captain, who had been on duty for two whole days, was very much relieved. He thanked the boys for helping the watch. During the night we had passed a squadron of French destroyers. I stayed on deck and watched the land grow nearer and nearer. I cannot tell you how glad I was to see land once more. I was not afraid of the Huns, but many of the passengers were. We have cer tainly had a wonderful voyage. The weather has been calm throughout. We expect to arrive in Bordeaux at about 3:00. It is 60 miles up the river.

21 Rue Raynouard – July 10th

We have arrived safely in Bordeaux this morning after an uneventful voyage. I expect you will learn of my arrival before you receive this letter, as Mort has cabled. I have written a little each day, and am sending you what I have so put down. I hope that you are all well and I assure you that I am well. Write as often as possible and please don’t worry about me. I wish you would keep my diary for me, and if possible have it typewritten. Remember me to all my friends. I assure you that I think of you as often as you think of me, so with love to all I am,

Your loving son.

21 Rue Raynouard, Paris – July 13th

I hope you have received a cable of safe arrival from Bordeaux and also my letters, diary, and postal cards. To continue my diary from the morning that we sighted land, it was a beautiful morning and the view of land, as I undoubtedly told you, was very welcome indeed. After picking up the pilot, we took a winding course through the mouth of the river which is mined. Bordeaux is some 60 miles up the river. We sighted land about 4:30 and we arrived at Bordeaux at about 2:00. It was a very beautiful trip up the river. The scenery was un usual, and very quiet and beautiful. I did not see as much of it as I wanted to because of the necessity of packing and writing. When we arrived at the city, we tied up right behind the Rochambeau, which had been burned at the dock just before we came in. The customs officials had come aboard at the mouth of the river and had inspected the baggage and “visa’d” our passports. Upon docking we were divided into groups of five and collected our baggage on deck. We checked it through to Paris, and when everything was arranged, we went ashore and lined up and walked to the chemin de fer. We were then told to come back at 9:00 that evening. This left the rest of the afternoon to ourselves, so we went sightseeing about town. It was very quaint and picturesque. We got on the train after a long wait with a lunch composed of hardtack, soda, water, etc. It was a rough journey, believe me—third class—and we didn’t get into Paris until 9:00 in the morning. We were met at the train by an A. A. man and were taken in taxis to 21 Rue Raynouard. We were shown our bunks in the barracks and then did innumerable little things. After receiving mess kits, we had dinner that was primitive but good.

The place where we are staying is the old U.S. Consular house, a very beautiful building. It was at one time the home of Benjamin Franklin when he was the first ambassador to France. I met Wells Robinson, a Buffalo lady, who has just returned from Salonica. She is going home July 23rd. I spent the rest of July 11th and 12th in seeing Paris. This city is beyond all my expectations; I never dreamed that such a beautiful place existed. I can’t get over it. Some time I will tell you of it. Friday morning the transport boys left at 7:00 for training camp. Practically all the Buffalo boys went with it; I pity them. I have heard some tough stories about that service. I refused to go in it and got an ambulance. The ambulance men leave for camp tomorrow at 4:00 (Saturday). I am writing this on Friday night, just before going to bed to catch a little sleep. I hope you are not worrying about me, and I hope you are all well and that you will get all my letters.

I had my picture taken in uniform today and I will forward it to you. If they get there, give one to Marind. I hope you will write to me as often as possible and ask other people to write, because all the letters don’t get over, so the more that are sent, the more I get. I am well and good spirited, so don’t worry, please! I will write as often as possible, so don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for some stretches of time, because letters are liable to get lost. Kiss Spencer for me and remember me to all my friends. ‘

Your loving son.