Christmas in France
by Bill Miller for
the Mail Tribune
Monday, December 23rd 2019
For the first time in nearly six
months, Corporal Ted Fish wasn’t jolted awake by the bugler’s cornet, blasting
out another early-morning rendition of Reveille. It was the U.S. Army’s way of
giving the men a gift on Christmas Day.
The 22-year-old farmer’s son from
Phoenix had
From Gien, near his assignment along
the La Lorie River, he randomly chose the town of Angers as his destination,
some 190 miles away by train.
“I had to change cars twice and had to
stay all night at a little town halfway to my destination,” he said.
Back on the rails, early the next
morning, Ted arrived in Angers four hours later. He strolled through the town
and had lunch at a small cafe. There he realized that there wasn’t much to see
or do. He decided to hop back on the train and continue on to the larger town
of Nantes. The town had double the population and was only 55 miles farther
east.
“I left at 3 p.m., and after the
slowest ride I ever took, I reached Nantes at 10:30 that night; too late,
because everything closes at 9 p.m.”
By the time he managed to find a hotel
he was beat, and that, combined with his long journey, kept him in bed until
10:30 the next morning.
“There were many interesting things to
see,” he said, “but I was getting homesick, so I left for
camp. I arrived late
on Christmas Eve and was rewarded by finding your Christmas package waiting for
me.”
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| Christmas in France - 1917 |
Even before the first selective service
draft registration in June 1917, Ted had seen an advertisement looking for
“forest men,” and urging them to join the U.S. Army’s 10th Engineers Forestry
Regiment.
“The men will work behind the lines in
France,” it said, “and will be made up of woodsmen and sawmill workers. Its
duties will be to convert the French forest into railroad ties, bridge timbers,
pilings, telephone poles and lumber.”
Ted signed up and left Southern Oregon
by train July 11, 1917. Less than a month later he was aboard a ship on his way
to France.
After breakfast on Christmas morning,
and surrounded by his friends, Ted opened the Christmas package his parents had
sent.
“I was greeted with, ‘Ho, you lucky
devil,’ on all sides,” he said. “Canned tobacco, you see, is unknown here. I’m
certainly thankful for such thoughtful parents; even though I’ve only been
using this filthy weed for two months.”
War duties were on hold for a morning
baseball game followed by a Christmas feast in the afternoon.
“We all lined up 15 minutes before time
and, when the mess call whistle blew, a cheer went up that startled all the
natives. We had turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, pie, nuts, figs, dates and
coffee.”
While the men waited in line, Lt.
Walter Blair, the regiment’s leader, walked by carrying an overloaded dinner
plate. He looked at the men with a big grin and shouted, “Who said war is
hell?”
Ted returned home in January 1919,
married, and raised a family. He died in 1967 and is buried in Medford’s
Siskiyou Memorial Park.
“Well I hope you all had a fine
Christmas,” he said, “and I know you did. Must close now and write thank-you
letters to all those who remembered me. Merry Christmas to all.”
Writer Bill Miller is the author of
“Forgotten Voices of WWI.” Reach him at newsmiller@live.com.
