Wow! Every one of the men in uniform is so very handsome!
I have a couple of boxes of militaria and would like to share some of the items in them, as they just sit in boxes here and it would be an honor to them to share some of that. Until I have a minute to do that, though, here is a somber remembrance of one vet...found in a house sale. I never figured out who Guy was:
"American Women's War Hospital,
Paignton, Devon, England
July 4, 1916.
Dear mother and all,
First, to relieve all anxiety, I am in no danger, that is, no fear of dying from my wounds, and also in no danger from the Bosches, but still I am in a very peculiar position. Here I am, an American, wounded in the British Army in France, in England, in a hospital supported by American money, the hospital being the English mansion of Singer, of the Singer Sewing Machine Co., tended by American doctors and nurses, on the 4th of July. The nurses, at my request, got four American flags, one large, and three small, and draped them at the head of my bed. My bed is the "Boston Bed" supported by the women of Boston. I am the only wounded Yankee in the hospital, and they treat me like a baby.
I cabled, because in one of your letters, you told me if anything happened to be sure and cable. I asked for money because I had to borrow money to send cable. A little money will do wonders for a wounded soldier in the way of luxuries, etc. The hospitals are overcrowded, the wounded from the Great Offensive are arriving in thousands, its nothing but, blood, blood and moans. Not very pleasant to see.
Will give you a short account of how I got wounded. Cannot write very much because I am too weak from loss of blood. I have seen hell and hell fire out here, but never want to see another night like the one I went through, the night of June 30th-July 1st.
For nine days we bombarded the German positions and they returned the compliment. Just imagine nine days of hell, we averaged 16 shells per second (official). It was nothing but death, blood and mud. Trenches completely smashed in. Our machine gun section 2 was almost wiped out, lost nine men from one shell. A continual line of stretchers, and men limping to dressing stations. Well, at 7:30 a.m. July 1st, we were to charge the German lines. On the night of June 30th, 20 volunteers were called for to raid the German trenches and try and. capture a prisoner (for information). A very dangerous mission. I was one of the "twenty". We blacked our hands and faces with burned cork so they wouldn't show up when a star shell was fired. All we had for arms was four bombs each and a club. At 11 p. m. we went over the top, crawling on our bellies, a foot or so at a time, then bang, a star shell from the German lines, then hug the ground, expecting a bullet through the head at any second, because you can never tell when they see you. After a long time at this, we got through their first and second barb wire defenses, unobserved, as we thought, then we crawled to about 10 feet from their trench, when we ran into a regular trap of barb wire and we knew the game was up. We were caught like rats in a trap. Word was whispered down that line of twenty minstrel man to about turn and get out the best way possible.
Just then the Germans sent up about 10 star shells at once, turning night into day, and their sentries challenged us. Upon being challenged, our officer shouted to us, "Every man for himself" ''Get back!" Then hell broke loose, machine guns, rifle fire and bombs came at us from only a distance of 15 to 20 feet. I rose to my feet and turned to run, when, smash, bang, I got it on the left side of my face. Down I went, thought I was killed, and commenced biting the dust in my frenzy. Then I became possessed with an awful rage, cursing and blind I staggered to my feet, and tried to run, went a few yards, when, crack! a bullet through left shoulder. Down I went, with the cry ''I'm hit”. I was way in the rear, the rest just disappearing into the circle of darkness. I crouched close to the ground, left arm useless, half of my face gone, thought I was dying, and then started to reason. The bullets were spitting up the ground all round me, just missing me by inches. Up goes another star shell and falls right along side of me, so close that it burned my coat. Well, there I lay, in full sight, helpless and covered with blood, and do you know, those Germans gave me another one through the left shoulder. I don't know but this gave me new life. I rose up and threw one of my bombs which landed squarely in their trench, by the flash of the explosion of my bomb. I know I got four of them, saw them go down. Then I dropped. Pretty soon I heard a whisper "Where are you, Emp. old boy?" a man out of "B" Company, my old company, had crawled back to find me through that hell of fire. He put my right arm over his shoulder and dragged me along. The agony was awful, so could not help moaning. The Germans heard us, and opened up. It was awful. I begged him to leave me. I really wanted to die. Told him to save himself. All he would say was ''Come on, mate" and still keeping me going, regardless of the bullets. He dragged me over two hundred yards to a shell hole, where he bound up my wounds. From this point it took us 4½ hours, under fire, to get to a dressing station. I was bound up, put on a motor ambulance, sent to a temporary hospital, operated on, under chloroform, came to, into another ambulance, into a hospital train, into another ambulance, for a ride of 20 miles, on to the hospital ship Panama, crossed the Channel to Southampton, into a hospital train, for a 120 mile ride, into a motor ambulance, and here. Quick work, but awful on the patient. Operated on here, two tubes, pro tem, in my shoulder. Am doing well, but suffer quite a lot.
My face, unless special attention and very skilled care are accorded it, will be frightfully disfigured on left side. With attention, my shoulder will come around, although the bone is badly shattered. The bones of my cheek are also smashed.
That "B" Company man saved my life. Would like to make him a present of some kind. He was a real hero.
I am liable to get my discharge later on, through disability.
Half of my grin is still going on, the other half has been shot away. Kind of lonely for me away out here. All the other boys have friends and visitors.
With best love to all.
Guy
P.S. My coat had five other bullet holes in the side of it"