Letter from Doris Stead in France
Bainbridge News & Republican, September 14, 1944
Aug. 26, 1944
Hello everybody--Again I'm hoping all goes well with you--If only I could tell you all--tell you where I am. I can say we're still advancing--following the 20th Corps--3rd Army--so just watch the news for that. The group of fellows we're now attached to have a P.A. system so that each day we hear the news--Paris, we hear, is taken and news in general sounds very good--How about that?
I think I shall start numbering my letters from now on so that you'll know whether you have missed any or not--sorry I didn't do it before. My correspondence is getting further and further behind--I simply can't get everything accomplished. So do give my best to anyone who inquires and tell them I haven't forgotten them--also I'm going to write on both sides of the sheet from now on because paper is terribly scarce here as everywhere.
Since my last letter of Aug. 25th (incidentally please save my letters as a kind of diary) we have moved another 75 kilometers (1 kilometer = 5/8 mile). Right now we are less than 8 miles from the front lines. The Army finds spots for us to establish cooking centers. Arriving here Friday afternoon we proceeded to unpack our trucks--all supplies such as tents, cots, blankets, tools, coffee, sugar, cream, flour, candy, cigarette, matches, games, recreational supplies, writing supplies, vic records, newspapers, magazine, kitchen utensils, etc. When I get back to the States I should be able to move a piano--seriously though, we do have pretty heavy things to move and we cannot depend always on the Army--The Army must fight, you know!
For al our meals we "guerre" up in line with the fellows, using our mess gear--including mess kit, knife, fork, spoon and canteen cup. We keep them clean with brillo (when we can get it) or by rubbing them in dirt. All our food is "rations"--K.D., 10 in 1 ration. It gets a bit monotonous but is well prepared both here and when put into the boxes back in the States. The K ration, which we eat usually is either B (breakfast) S (supper-lunch) D (dinner). They include tasty concentrated biscuits (Crax), cheese, bacon and eggs (mixed in cans)--powdered coffee, bouillon, or lemon juice which we add water to--sugar, chocolate (very concentrated), cigarettes (not smoking yet), etc. No I haven't lost any weight (ha! ha!). In addition to the above, the French bring us tomatoes, grapes, pears, potatoes, onions, eggs for which we give them cigarettes, chocolate and soap. For four years they have been most severely rationed and they are extremely happy to get what we give them.
Last night, for example, a Major, a Captain, a G.I., our Group leader, and assistant and myself dined with a French family in the very nearby town--(today we took Madame 5 lbs. coffee from our stores--you should have seen her--simply overjoyed--her coffee has been "nil" for months)--Shall I tell you of our dinner last night?
Eve Christiansen, our leader, invited me to go 'cause there's no one else who speaks French and too, because she thought I would enjoy it--which I did immensely. The French dinners start at about 7:30 -- Wines and liquors are served before and all during the meal. Cider taking the place of milk or coffee as a rule. Our menu was:
First course: delicious salad of eggs, tomatoes, cucs, lettuce, oil--also bread comes in long narrow loaves--which people carry along the streets from the bakers without wrapping! (What cleanliness)
Second course: rabbit cooked most deliciously (tell Grandma Banner). The French raise rabbits for eating. Too, the French are known as the world's best cooks, you know. Potatoes, a pink specie.
Third course: goats cheese and bread--wonderful. Speaking of goats--during the meal the little boy, Roger, came through the dining room with the goats (4 of them) to take them from the front to the back for the night. Can you imagine that. Our eyes fairly bugged out!
Fourth course: Delicious cheese sponge cake.
Then, to our great surprise the father who had played the drums on the ship Normandy across the ocean many times--and a next door neighbor on his accordion--played for us to dance--right there in the dining room. They played many American songs such as "Tea for Two," "Stars and Stripes Forever," and "Dinah." All in all we had a grand evening. We left at 9 p.m. for we are supposed to be in our living quarters before dark. There are still snipers around.
I've been taking pictures--Try to send me more film 616. I can't get it here--as soon as possible. Too--I write my letter so hurriedly that they aren't fit for too many to read--I'm referring to the "News"--If you have time to re-write them or improve them, maybe an occasional paragraph might interest people--I only wish you could all be with us--I never dreamed life could hold such experiences for us!
Yesterday, Saturday, we (clubmobiles) cleaned and scrubbed from top to bottom--washing woodwork, cups by the thousands, putting away all our equipment, cleaning doughnut machine--Quite some job.
We get up at 8 a.m. for chow--washing always in our helmets with water from our water can. No showers or baths here--but such dust I've never seen! Brush our teeth with water from our canteens. Make up our sleeping bags--crawl into our fatigues--put on some makeup, and away we go to chow. Loads of bugs and insects all over for which we've been given insecticide powder if necessary.
This morning after chow--Sally Rood, of Boston, buzzed up to our clubmobile and asked me to go to a nearby town to find some of her relatives' property (I, being the one who does the speaking.) We drove via "jeep" 25 kilometers to find what must have been a beautiful French Chateau before the war and which since '39 was taken over by the Baches (Germans)--Now what a looking place! Debris, rubbish, demolished portions, filth, squalor. All the furniture, works of art, Frigidaire--everything taken by the Germans. We talked a long time with the caretaker of the place. He and his family were very thin, living only on potatoes and a few bits snatched here and there. Another Frenchman told us of a little two-year-old girl that the Germans nailed to the door of a church in Alsace because the parents refused to comply with such and such and order! You people back home just don't know the half of it--War is just plan hell and if all America could see what we have seen they would never allow another war. You people at home have no concept whatsoever of war--I didn't either 'til now--and even now I have nowhere nearly seen the worst.
The G.I. Band has just started to play--Tonight the fellows want us to do a bit of dancing with them--so I must close. Do excuse the scrawl--in order to find a quiet place to write I had to curl up in one corner of our truck--always G.I.'s around or French girls--you know how it is. I like people but there are moments when you enjoy being alone.
At 9:30 it will be dark, We'll probably undress in the darkness of our tents for complete blackout is in order. We sleep with flaps of tents up--always looking at stars and moon--beautiful--After 9:30 p.m. no one but us is allowed in our field.
Often during the night I awaken hearing 1000's of planes (ours) going over on missions to Germany and then returning. Sometimes we hear German planes (you can always tell the difference--motors). Flares light up the sky and in the distance gun fire can be heard. We just pray our boys are brave and coming through with flying colors, and that loss of life is little.
All my love, Doris
P.S. French have given us pears, apples, milk, eggs and cider.
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