Chapter Twelve Preparing to Wait

Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parlez-vous! Mademoiselle from Armentieres, Parlez-vous! Mademoiselle from Armentieres, She hasn't been fucked for forty years, Hinky-dinky parlez-vous.
World War I Army Marching Song

When Bill and the men on the Kroonland finally arrived on the 7th of April, the Germans had raised the mark barely two months before by using mustard gas against the British forces and the French villages the Brits had sought to protect. The spring weather had stayed hot, misty and sticky, ideal for the use of the dreaded gas. The fighting had worn on for days under the constant

bombardment of the German artillery. Masses of discouraged and exhausted men huddled on the front lines. Death came and went with impunity, while the moon rose, blood red and menacing, off the battlefields. On the 9th of April, nine German divisions attacked and easily overpowered four small Portuguese brigades into retreat, leaving a single, badly outnumbered British battalion to face the Germans. The Bosche penetrated the British front by the end of the day and would have made their way into Armentieres, but despite heavy losses, the remaining French and British soldiers held the Germans off, even without adequate food and vital supplies. Two weeks later the Germans renewed their offensive, but by then the front was ravaged with craters and deep mud. The Germans lacked the resolve to persevere. They lost nearly 57,000 dead and over 181,000 wounded in the next two great sieges. The Allies posted more than 21,000 deaths initially, and another 250,000 to injuries, but of 330,000 Allied soldiers initially believed missing, 290,000 ultimately proved lost. The Germans won the body count, but their reserves were tapped. And the Yanks were coming. So into this milieu came the American Expeditionary Forces. But by the end of May, when the 11th Infantry of the American Expeditionary Forces arrived at Armentieres, the nearest battlefields had not seen action for over a month. The 11th Infantry did not see much fighting from their arrival in May through the end of July. Bill spent the weeks leading up to his 29th birthday on July 16 engaged in correspondence with his parents and his lawyer about the disposition of his military pay while working as a telephone operator, or Hello Girl, and as a barber at base camp.

Back in Kansas, Kitty did not pursue her divorce. In spite of her agreement to forgo support, half of Bills allotment of $30 per month went to her and Baby Maxine, in Turon where they lived with the Hollands.
On Active Service WITH THE AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

July 19, 1918 Dear Mother and all I will again drop you a few lines for I recd a couple of your letters today and am feeling somewhat better. You spoke of news, yes, anything you write will sure be news and say dont be afraid to send plenty of news of home for since I have been here they have all forgot and as it takes a month to get a letter across. I have written to nearly all. Also I have written many to you folks and a good number to Vesta. I have been careful in my writing trying not to say what I shouldnt. Yes I had a birthday and say, it was a fine one. We were moving. I sure enjoyed it, for it was a change. We got to ride in trucks and to make it seem nice, we had hiked about 20 kilometers the day before in full pack. So it was appreciated very much. We are in a very nice part of the country and have received a nice billet but it is very warm. It kindo reminds me of the old hot Kansas sun. Only need one blanket to sleep out under here. I am still at the same old trade playing hello girl. Like it fine and when I get back to the states I think I shall apply to Bell Telephone for a job. You spoke of being sick or getting sick and using pink pills. Well that is a byword in this army, pills. Oh no, I am well thank you and hope to continue to be. You talk of understanding the French and getting along. I have not had a bit of trouble yet and dont expect to for they are not so bad. Even if they are funny to us, I can talk some and understand a great deal more, so it isnt so bad. I have to go--tell all hello and that I am enjoying myself. Hope you get this. With love to all I am your Son and Bro Bill

Turon, Kansas. Tuesday, July 23, 1918 Kitty put Maxine down for her morning nap at 10:30 and told her mother she was leaving the house to get some air. She walked the short distance to the post office. The air hung heavy with humidity and it was already dreadfully hot with no break in the weather expected in the foreseeable future. Without rain the humidity would thankfully diminish and the ever-present wind that flew across the Midwest prairie would make the weather barely tolerable. The grass had already gone from spring green to mid-summer brown. But more than the weather had Kitty out of sorts this morning. Life had become tedious. She had endured a heat rash for days. And then, some itches she could not scratch: She did not like being somebodys mother. She did not like being somebodys daughter. She wasnt anybodys wife or girlfriend, and she was a pariah to all the fellows in town because she was officially Kathryn Holmes, Mrs. Bill Holmes. Married woman, married to a soldier at that. Mother.That girl.Turon was purgatory. Behind her back, she knew that the good parents of Turon pinched their childrens arms when they passed her on the street, whispering, Thats what happens when The postal clerk handed her a single letter in a legal sized envelope imprinted with the name of Herbert E. Ramsey, Attorney-at-Law. She remembered the name, but she had not had further dealings with him since the meetings she and Bill had had with him last year. Her stomach tightened as she slid her thumb under the sealed flap. She opened the envelope and withdrew the contents. A terse letter, with no explanations.
TERMS OF COURT
FIRST TUESDAYS IN JANUARY, APRIL AND SEPTEMBER OFFICE OF W. A. HUXMAN, DEPUTY COUNTY ATTORNEY

HERBERT E. RAMSEY
COUNTYATTORNEY
RENOCOUNTY HUTCHINSON, KANSAS.

July 22, 1918

Mrs. Wm. G. Holmes Turon, Kansas. Dear Madam: You will kindly call at this office as soon as possible, as I wish to talk with you concerning a letter that I have just received from the Bureau of War Risk Insurance. Thanking you, I remain Yours very truly,

HR-RZ.

On the following day, Kitty and her parents loaded themselves and Maxine into J.M.s new Oldsmobile and made the trip to Hutchinson to call on Mr. Ramsey at his office. They arrived at the Reno County Courthouse on Wednesday morning, a little after 10:00 oclock. The drive from Turon had taken almost two hours. High in the sky, the sun beat down on them without mercy when they finally made their way up the broad steps to the main entrance on the second floor. Kittys heels clicked in a quick staccato rhythm as she walked across the shiny oak floors leading to Ramseys office. Mrs. Holland carried Maxine, whose eyes were wide with curiosity, as they paused in front of the door labeled:
Herbert E. Ramsey Attorney-at-Law Government Appeals

Kitty pushed the door open and strode in, leaving her father to catch it for her mother. A woman looked up from her desk in the anteroom as the family entered. Kitty remembered her stiff, matronly demeanor her last visit. The placard on her desk announced RUTH ZINK. Kathryn addressed the woman abruptly, displaying Ramseys letter, which she took from her bag.

I am Kathryn Holmes. I have this letter from Mr. Ramsey asking me to see him about some business concerning, she looked at the letter, the Bureau of War Risk Insurance. Miss Zink looked the group over. Kathryn thought she looked a little too holier than thou. Two other parties sat in the waiting room, leaving too few chairs for the Hollands. I will tell Mr. Ramsey that you are here, but there may be a bit of a wait. Would you like to come back this afternoon? Her voice sounded shrill and had a certain vibrato when she asked questions or paused. Probably a bad soprano in the Methodist choir, Kitty imagined. No, thank you, we will need to return to Turon this afternoon. Well be pleased to wait, she said. Well, then, let me see if we can fit you in this morning. The secretary rose from her desk and slipped discreetly behind the door adjacent to her desk. RZ, Kitty mused, remembering the signature on the letter. Mr. Holland caught a glimpse of Herb Ramsey at his desk. The door closed, but moments later Miss Zink reappeared. If you dont mind waiting Kathryn looked around the room and saw only two open chairs, neither next to the other. She motioned to her mother to sit and took the other chair for herself. Mr. Holland leaned against the wall in front of Miss Zinks desk and crossed his arms above his belly. Only the audible ticking of a large clock on the wall behind Miss Zinks desk disturbed the silence in the anteroom. Tiny particles of dust floated silently in the window light which cast a shadow that moved almost imperceptibly across the floor. After five minutes, the office door opened and someone Kitty had never seen before came out making his good-byes to Ramsey, who motioned for the couple seated along the wall adjacent to enter his office. As they passed through his door, Ramsey acknowledged Kitty with a direct look and nodded his head, and then

turned to her father and said, Mr. Holland, Good morning. I hope you dont mind waiting too much. At last Mr. Holland sat. Maxine had drifted off to sleep and Mrs. Hollands head occasionally seemed to bump off her chest as she tried to keep from nodding off herself. The

postman entered the office and handed mail to Miss Zink. When the last client entered Ramseys office, they heard the clock chime 10:45. No one else entered the waiting room. Finally, after the clock struck 11:15, the door to Ramseys office opened again and Ramsey invited the Hollands and Kitty into his office. Thank you all for coming in on such short notice, he said as they sat down. I have received several calls from Mr. Jonas Holmes of Langdon and letters addressed to him and to me concerning the standing of your husbands Army pay while he serves in France. Kitty winced at the use of the word husband. At their insistence, I have been in touch with the Department of Treasury because, Mrs. Holmes, we have not succeeded in stopping the allotment, which you have received despite the agreements to the contrary that we drew up in January. Am I correct to understand that you have been receiving half of Bills pay? Yes, sir. I have, but its not very much and Ive saved most of it for Maxine. Very well, then let me share this recent correspondence from Washington. He took a letter from the file on his desk and read it out loud to Kitty and her parents.

By now Maxine, fully awake and squirming, wanted to be released from her grandmothers arms. Kitty shifted uncomfortably, recognizing that she did not demonstrate maternal capacity, but she was even less comfortable with any idea of doing so. Mrs. Holland rose. Im going to take Maxine down the hall to see if we can find something for her to do. With that she left. Kitty sighed, relieved, and turned back to Mr. Ramsey. What do you want me to do? she asked. Well need to respond with statements that release the government of responsibility for yours and your childs welfare. Are you willing to do so? I dont want nothing that isnt mine, Kathryn said, thinking ruefully of the regular checks she had received, and cashed, from the United States government. As far as Im concerned, Bill Holmes ceased existing last year. Ill sign whatever you want. Her tone was bitter, curt. Her father shifted uneasily, but said nothing. Mr. Holland, Ramsey said, Do you understand what your daughter is saying regarding her husbands Army Pay? I do, sir, Holland replied. Bill Holmes has been nothing but a scalawag where Kathryn is concerned. He married her and gave the child his name, but he has failed in being either a father or a husband to them. We have had no further doings with the family, and the sooner we can get that man out of our hair, the better for all concerned. Then will you sign an affidavit of support for both your daughter and your grandchild? I will, sir. Very well. Then I shall draft statements for you to sign and have them ready for you by, shall we say 2:00 oclock this afternoon.

That will be fine with us. Ill ask Mrs. Holland to sign something as well. Whatever you require. So they left and returned at 2:00 p.m. as scheduled. There was no one else waiting for Ramsey when they returned. Miss Zink ushered them straight into his office and heard Ramsey open the conversation by inquiring about their lunch, a matter that annoyed his secretary as she left the room. She had worked through hers to have the documents ready for signature. But quickly he turned to matters of the business at hand. Now, Mrs. Holmes. Lets start with you. I have here an affidavit in which you will release all claim to your husbands military pay so that he can receive the entire benefit himself. You will state that your parents are providing for you pursuant to the agreement we worked out and that you signed last January. Here is your affidavit. If you agree, please sign it as indicated towards the bottom of the agreement. Ramsey handed the document typed on his own stationary to Kitty, who looked it over for a moment before signing. Ramsey stepped to the door and asked his secretary to return and witness signatures. Mrs. Holmes, I must ask you to raise your right hand and swear that the statement you are about to sign in the presence of these witnesses is true, accurate and correct, and that you are under no coercion nor compulsion to sign your name. Is that your sworn statement? Yes, sir, it is, Kitty replied. And again, she signed away her rights to Bills military allotment. Ramsey continued to officiate.

Mr. and Mrs. Holland, you will recall that the Department asks me to confirm that you agree to the continued support of your daughter and your granddaughter. This being the case, then I ask you also to raise your right hands and so swear. J.M. and OPhelia Holland obeyed. I do, they swore together and signed the official document to this effect.
Allotment No. 2, 273, 267 Treasury Department, Bureau of War Risk Insurance, Legal Division, Exemption Section Washington, D. C.

AFFIDAVIT. STATE OF KANSAS, COUNTY OF RENO, SS:

Personally appeared before me, the undersigned authority, J. M. Holland, who being first duly sworn, upon her oath, deposes and says: My name is J. M. Holland; and that I am the father of Kathryn Holmes, the wife of Pvt. William Green Holmes, Co. C. 9thFldBn S C. Camp Samuel F. B. Morse, Texas; that at the present time, I am supporting my daughter and her minor child; and that I am perfectly willing and able to do so. Further deponent saith not. ______________________ I am the mother of Kathryn Holmes; and I have read the above and foregoing statement, together with the affidavit which my daughter has made; and I know that all the facts therein are true.

______________________

After Miss Zink notarized the documents, Ramsey stood and wished the family well. When they left the office, he asked his secretary to take a cover memo, which accompanied the two affidavits when the documents went out the next day. She sat in front of his desk; Ramsey dictated.

To Bureau of War Risk Insurance, et cetera, concerning allotment number so-and-so, for Pvt. Holmes as previously referenced, etc. One: You will kindly enclosed find statements of J. M. Holland and Mrs. J. M. Holland, father and mother of Kathryn Holmes, wife of Pvt. William Green Holmes, Company C, et cetera, also a statement of Kathryn Holmes. Two: You will also kindly enclosed find copy of their agreement, signed on the 23rd day of January, 1918, prior to Holmes enlistment in the Army. I am the one who drew the agreement for them, and so personally know about the same. Three: Mrs. Holmes does not have a divorce case pending at this time for the reason that she did not have grounds for a divorce. Holmes wished to enlist in the army, and did not want to stay here until after his divorce case could be tried. There, Miss Zink. See to it that we get this out before the end of the week. No one ever asked Kitty to return the money she had already received, and she never did.

In France, the Army engaged in constant maneuvers, and Bill moved with it, but the Signal Corps saw little action; instead they used the summer months to train as General Pershing prepared for a massive affront that would not come until September. Germany challenged aggressively across the Aisne and the VesleRivers at the end of May, but the Allies held Chateau-Thierry in June. Hard fought battles raged at the village of Vaux and the Belleau Wood, which the U.S. 2nd Division recaptured by the end of the month. So Bill marched with the soldiers. Occasionally they rode in military transport trucks, an invention of war in the New

Century. The summer was wet and even on the good days the air was heavymore humid than even the hot Kansas plains he had grown up in. Bill felt frustrated that he had come to this war to fight, and yet he saw no fighting. He felt relieved, but then he felt like a coward to feel relief. He wondered what he would do when he finally did see the bombs bursting around him, and if he would live to tell the tale. In one village Bill saw French children wearing white smocks lined up outside their village school to witness the passage of the American Troops. They waved small American flags in their hands as the men passed. Bill smiled and swelled with pride as they cheered him. Then he happened to notice that the flags were made out of paper with colors applied with crayons. In another village he saw a church that at first seemed intact, but then his eyes widened when he realized that the bell tower had been blown off as if by a Kansas tornado. The churchyard lay in ruins, its ancient trees stripped of foliage, the tombstones nearly buried in debris. A pair of ancient wrought iron gates remained, each standing only to hold up the other. In another bombed out village, street urchins sold fancy vases made of shell casings collected from the battlefields. Only foundations filled with rubble remained where rows of houses once stood. Wherever Bill looked, he saw craters in the ground, some filled with water, others still smelling of exploded gun powder. The troops made camp for a day or two at each stop and then moved on. At one such encampment Bill saw a French pissoire, for the first time, a novel invention that had never been tried in Kansas. Someone went to the trouble to build a three-sided fence and placed it up against the bushes at the rear of their encampment. A pallet frame with 1x4 pine lumber formed the floor of the unit. One stepped up into the unit, made water and left.

The piss was gonna run into the bushes anyway, so why couldnt you just go stand at the edge of the hedge? Bill mused to a buddy. Seems like an awful lot of going to trouble in the middle of a war! The French thought it civilized. Mail call was the highlight at every encampment. The troops gathered around the mail clerks tent and waited to hear their names. Those whose names were not called were inevitably discouraged. Bill and most all the othersoften were. They turned when the last name was called out and walked away, shoulders bent, their gait slowed, unlike those who hurried back to their tents in anticipation of reading a letter from home. News from home came in gobs and clumps without any regularity. When Bill received a letter from home, the first chance he got, he answered it, as if answering letters somehow guaranteed a response, another letter from home on some future mail call.
On Active Service WITH THE AMERICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE

July 28, 1918 Dear Mother and all Here goes another few lines as this is a gloomy, rainy old day. And Sunday besides, and no chance to go anywhere. It has rained the last two or three days and everything is most near wet and I have been sick, but think I have at last reached the turning point as I feel much better this morn. Gee I sure dreamed of what I would have for dinner today if I could catch the jitney out for that Sunday feed. I have never yet recd a Hutch paper and if you havent already I wish you would remind them of the fact as they would be of great value over here. I got hold of some Cincinnati papers and even read the ads. It was sure fine. With lots of love and best regards to all I am as ever your son and Bro Bill

Josie read his letter aloud to everyone at the dining room table where the family had gathered for Sunday dinner on August 25. It took nearly a month for mail to cross the Atlantic in either direction; Bills letter had just come in the post the day before. Jonas brought it home special from the post office before he left for the fields; she read it aloud as he listened. She read it again and again throughout the day and kept it in the pocket of her apron in case a chance for an encore presented itself. She worried that Bill had been sick in the rainy French weather and wondered how he was doing by now. Or ifshe dared hardly even think ithe had been injured, or God forbid, worse. He never left her mind. Sometimes Vesta noticed her standing at the kitchen sink, her hands motionless in the dishwater, staring out the window as if in a trance. Vesta wondered how many other mothers like her felt themselves paralyzed by wonder and fear. Most Sundays, Vesta came home for church from Hutchinson. This week she sat on one side of the table with Speck and Badger while Delphos and Mary Alice sat on the other side with Baby Doris in a high chair between them. Josie built the drama by waiting until dessert to share the letter, but it was at hand when the time came. She looked at Vesta when she opened Bills letter to read it. In spite of being a pretty girl, Vesta was still single and had no prospects of marriage at 20. But Josie was proud of her career girl and not impatient for her to find a man. Maybe after this war ended, Josie thought, one of the returning veterans would ask her to marry him. A good Christian boy. We must ship Bill some necessaries, Josie began, as she finished the letter and set it on the table beside her plate. Jonas, dont you have some of that old letter carrier stationary that

we can send over there? And what about newspapers? Vesta, can you go by the News Herald and pick up a good supply of recent editions? Father and daughter accepted their tasks without questions. Delphos brooded. He secretly resented all the attention his older war hero brother received and sat silently throughout these brother Bill sessions. Mary Alice thought sometimes he had a chip on his shoulder, but kept her tongue about that. Baby Doris gurgled.

On the other side of the world that day, while his family enjoyed Sunday dinner together, Bill tossed his kit bag into a tent that would be his for the next four days in Archettes, a tiny village set in a broad and lush mountain valley once supported by dairy farms. He heard the men say that they were 60 kilometers from the RhineRiver and thus Germany, barely 40 miles! Archettes lay near the headwaters of the MoselleRiver in France, separated from Germany more by the mountains that lay to the east than the Rhine, which he could only imagine. He thought it would have been a spectacular place, but for the presence of soldiers and drab green trucks and ambulances. The ever-present haze and the occasional smell of cordite from explosives burning in the distance reminded him of what brought them there from another place that had green prairies, tall trees, dairies and morning haze after an overnight rainfall. He plopped onto his cot and pulled out the small booklet he had kept with him since someone among a group of missionaries thrust it and others like it at the boys when they arrived at the docks in Hoboken. Barely 3 by 5 inches with the words A SOLDIERS CATECHISM printed on a khaki brown cloth cover. He opened the back cover and wrote, Left Camp Nice

Aug 23 arrivedArchettes Aug 25. It was almost time for mess call. He was hungry after a twoday march from the tent city the soldiers dubbed CampNice. But he turned to the front cover and replayed the Great Adventure as he read the history of his year: Left HutchinsonKan Jan. 23260 mi to (arr.) Ft. LeavenworthKan Jan 24 Left LeavenworthKan Jan 30 1100 mi to (arrive) LeonSprgs: Feb.2 Left LeonSprgs Mar 27 2100 mi arrivedCampMerritt Apr. 2. Left CampMerritt Apr. 22. 3300 miles sailed Apr 23 landed Apr 28 sailed Apr 30 Arrived St. Nazaire May 13. Left St. Nazaire May 19. Arrived Armentieres, May 21. Left Armentieres June 2. Arrived June 3 at BarbeySerouxLeft BarbeySeroux June 14 Arrived Anould June 14 LeftAnould June 15 Arrived Plainfaing June 15 Left Plainfaing June 18 Arrived Camp Valentin June 18 Left Camp Valentin June 28 Arrived Le Collet June 29 And turning again to the back cover, he read, Left Le Collet June 30 Arrived Camp Nicholas July 1 Left Camp Nicholas July 15 Arrived Le Collet July 15Left Le Collet July 16 Arrived Le Vaivre July 16 Left Le Vaivre July 17 Arrived Camp Nice July 17. Left Camp Nice August 23. Arrived Archettes Aug 25

With every move Bill worried more about the battles he would face. The men spoke about them in little more than whispers, but the battles would inevitably come. A few men had joined the Company with more experience on the battlefield. One man in particular seemed distracted most of the time, as if he had lost his ability to concentrate. Occasionally he jumped for no reason, as if he had heard something unseen. Before Bill folded the Catechism to go to the mess tent, he read the scripture verses again on the last page of the booklet.

Always Victorious! Winning or losing, living or dying, what will the Christian soldier receive who remains faithful to Christ? He shall receive the crown of life. Rev. 2:10. Why can a Christian soldier remain cheerful to the end? Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. I Pet. 1:3-5.

Because this last page faced his hand-written travelogue, Bill had read these verses often in the past weeks. He observed scornfully that neither Peter nor John the Revelator could have, in their wildest imagination, envisioned mustard gas and the trenches of France in 1918. He wondered if the publisher had also printed a German language edition and if any of the Lutherans on the other side of the trenches had read First Peter this evening.