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Latest revision as of 09:53, 18 September 2018

This long march found us on Thanksgiving Day enjoying a repast of corned beef, bread and black coffee. This was our Thanksgiving dinner. During the first day I marched all the way in the rear of the company, in charge of three prisoners. Doc Hennessy had to walk and was as sore as a boil. He expected to ride with the field range. All the sergeants in the rear were kidding Jake Bernstein about the fancy cane he carried and the way his leggins [leggings] were wrapped. When we reached our destination, Bulainville, I turned my three prisoners over to Bernstein and started out with Robinson and Jablanowski to find a place where we could get a meal cooked. We had a little money and were looking for some French fried potatoes and an omelet. We found a French house where they served us a light supper and some vin blanc. I returned to where the company was billeted and went to sleep on the top of a hay stack. On the next day we set out again and marched to the village of Villotte Louppy about fifteen miles away. We passed the night here in wooden barracks. The following day we marched about sixteen miles and reached the small town of Tremont. The company was billeted in a hay loft, but I secured for Robinson, Lentz and a few others a room with an open fireplace. The next day after a march of fifteen miles we made Ancerville, where three of us secured a room in a French house also a chicken waffle dinner, a rare luxury. While the company was in this town Fortenbaugh, in celebrating the end of the war, imbibed a little too freely and was discovered about eight P.M. up a tree, telling everybody who would listen, that he was an owl. The second squad had to climb the tree to bring the owl down. -85-