Herb has no idea what today is!

I couldn't identify the letter with the enclosures when I just looked for it. I do recall the tobacco, though; not that I could include that here.

Herb and Section 580 are in Neuville les This. Since his last letter on the 31st he has gone from Avaux to Neuville les This.

November 11 (1918)

Dearest Mother,

I’m writing you this to-day because this is the day, though I don’t expect that I’ll be able to mail it for two or three days. For the past week we’ve advanced so fast that the mail has never caught up with us. Yesterday one of the cars on the trip back picked up some mail that had been left for us so I have Dad’s letter of October 21st as well as the clippings about the German demand for armistice that he sent to me. By a curious coincidence one of the boys brought me those clippings in bed about 7 o’clock. After the paper had already been signed thought I knew nothing of it for a couple of hours. Of course the air has been full of rumors for about a week and one never knew what to believe. Every few minutes someone would come in with some new bit of information.

Of course we’re a long long way past the old German lines. Once the Germans started to retreat a few days ago they lost no time. Several times French regiments went out to attack but couldn’t because the Boche were nowhere to be found. However the French kept in pretty close contact with the Germans and the Section wasn’t far behind though the roads were pretty bad. The towns we passed thorough – several towns and a number of villages contained a good many civilians who had been there all through the German occupation. We were the first American they had ever seen and they seemed quite glad to see us. In one large town we arrived in the early evening as the Germans left in the morning. These towns are all in pretty good shape, that is the houses are standing though there is very little furniture in most of them. The Germans even took some of the bed linens with them.

The roads are pretty bad so the problem of supplying the troops is difficult. Practically every cross roads of any importance has a large mine hole in the center of it. I saw one of them that was close to a hundred feet across and at least forty feet deep. Sometimes it is possible to get a car around them but it is frequently necessary to make long detours. The bridges, too, were all blown up so the engineers have a lot of work to do. Many of the railroads sidings have loaded trains on them, filled with all sorts of supplies that the Germans were unable to move.

The country hereabouts makes me homesick. Outside of the villages I could almost imagine myself in the country near home. There are lots of orchards, but the Germans stripped them all – worse luck.

Since I started this letter this morning some more mail has come I have whole book from Aunt Ada and a letter from Karolyn telling of her unsuccessful trip.
We’ve had a lot of miscellaneous cantonments lately mostly in abandoned houses. Sometimes we’ve had as many as three in one day because we never know where we’re going on how long we’re going to stay. Since yesterday we’ve been staying at a big farm house that was used as quarters for Germans officers up to three days ago. Five of us are sleeping in the parlor. The house and most of the furnishings are intact due to the orders of a German general who was one of the last officers to stay here. About the only thing that was taken was the carpets.

On the whole we’re better off here than the troops back in the interior. We usually manage to get a decent place to sleep and we can always have a fire. Wood up here is quite plentiful while back in the interior any sort of fuel is as scarce as a hen’s teeth.
The weather has been pretty bad – rainy most of the time. Yesterday morning it was very cold and there was a heavy white frost – which is, I believe an unusual thing in France. This part of the country is pretty high up which probably accounts for it.

There is some grippe hereabouts – not nearly so much as back in the States from all accounts. I’m quite all right myself – that touch of grippe I had while on permission never amounted to anything. I hope none of you get it.

This funny looking stuff in the envelope enclosed is some stuff the Germans call tobacco. I could have pinched up lots of it but it isn’t fun to smoke. It seems to be made of dried leaves of some tree – I don’t know what kind. The slip of paper is some of the propaganda that the Germans will never again distribute.
With best love,
Herb