JSDuff_FWF02011919

Feb. 1, 1919.

Dear Fauna,

I aint no casualty - never was. If you accumulated the idea - as you apparently did from my last letter, then my last letter is an egregious liar. Sometime in December I left my little finger in between two barrels for too long a time - most careless since one barrel was rolling, but I did no more than lose a finger nail. Beyond that I haven't had a danged thing happen.

I wonder if you aren't flying over part of the country we were operating in. We advanced on Stenay - our last positions were at Laneuville-sur-Meuse, and we came up by way of Romagne, Baintheville, Remonville, Barricourt, Nouart, Beauclaire, and after the armistice moved into Cervisy just north of Stenay.

I was luckyernell to get to the Front at all. We were in training at Valdahon, when we heard they were going to quarantine the place for spinal meningitis. Sans orders, we moved out, and the quarantine kept us out. G.H.Q., 6th Division Hqrs., no one knew a darn thing about us. We just moved up Front, eased into a National Guard Brigade which was attached to the 81st Division, and

when the fateful 11th of November came around we were found up on the Meuse. Said one of the Colnels at G.H.Q., looking over the reports of the 81st, "By God, here's the 11th F.A. It got up front, God knows how it got ammunition, God knows where; it fired at God knows what and it finished 300 meters ahead of the infantry. That beats me." And our colnel's name is Peace!

Right now we are billeted in three little villages in the Côte d'Or. I am living in Villaines about 90 kilometers north of Dijon - on the Dijon-Chatillon route. My present job is assistant unit supply officer, but I'm on a peculiar sort of Special Duty status as editor of a book for the regiment. I guess there's ink in my blood.

I had a letter from Dari Stark yesterday. She's secretary for Mrs. Hoover in Washington. Agnes Gray sends me The New France, a magazine she is helping edit (It published some of my stuff not long since). Tom Cliff is laying in a tremendous stock of liquid against my return. You probably hear from Chester oftener than I. I had a letter the other day. He was well, and work had slacked up. I am still anathema to Marge Bailey. Carol Wilson is editing the Review. You probably heard of the deaths of Dorothy Metz and Hi Fisk. I haven't met any Stanford people of mutual acquaintance since I've been over. Did you knokw Brad Sargent? He

3.

was a second lieutenant in the 11th - killed at Romagne.

I am very much afraid you misunderstood what I took to be a very delicate bit of sarcasm in my last letter. My "veteran" stuff was meant merely to show how those of us who haven't borne the labor and the heat, step in at the last moment and assume the honors. It hurts my sense of balance and my intelligence also, to hear our near-duds talk about the war. You - all of you - who were farther-sighted than we, you selfless folk who came over before we got into the war as a nation (God knows we should have been in when Belgium was violated, should have risen as one man at the Lusitania we see that now) you are the ones I honor and stand in awe of. Our contribution was so meager, our sacrifice so little, our eyes so blind, our hearts so centered in our own affairs, we were so content - and Heaven forgive us, "content" is the word - to stay at home, that now we can only be a little shame faced at your superb record. It was so damned decent - and unassuming. My hat is off to you, lad, but I didn't think I needed

to say it.

Don't think I fail to realize that it is pure presumption for me to talk of the war and my experiences. I don't do it - even around the Supply Company fire at night. Do me the justice to see that the picture I drew of us as veterans was a caricature. We did get in though, and in our seventeen days we suffered heavy casualties for a howitzer regiment, but we really don't want to be blatant. We are proud of our outfit - mentioned in brigade and division orders, officially recognized with H.D.S.C.'s, and in spite of ridiculous lack of mobile equipment, advancing farther than any artillery unit in the sector, but we know that the Lord had us by the hand and that we were probably as lucky an outfit as there is in the A.E.F. when it comes to getting places.

Forgive the long dissertation, but I want you to know how I feel about yourself and ourselves.

God save you kindly.

J.S.D.

Lt. J.S. Duff 11th F.A. Am.E.F.