Memoir of Luther C. Stine
Concord, WV (Hardy County)
U.S. Army Private in World War I
March 1918- July 1919
Memoir written at the request of his local newspaper and found later in
family papers.
Submitted by his grandson:
Martin Luther Heavner
Ijamsville, MD 21754
m.heavner@comcast.net
"I was inducted into the military service of the United States, March 5th,
1918, with twenty-four other boys from Hardy County, West Virginia. All
along the line we witnessed pathetic scenes of parting, but as we increased in
number we revived in spirit so that those who saw us pass must have thought
us a very happy bunch. We made love signs to all the pretty girls and [made]
fun of those not so well favored. We arrived at Lytle, Ga., on the 8th and on
the 10th were given our first vaccination and inoculation, followed a few
days later by two other shots of serum.
After a short period of intense drilling I was assigned to a company to form a
hospital train and was made cook, and after this did little drilling. After five
months in camp and a number of short moves we were transferred to Camp
Stuart, Va., given our overseas equipment and on Aug. 22 boarded the
English S. S. Titan for Europe.
We steamed slowly up the coast, adding to our number until our fleet was
composed of fifteen ships, convoyed by a battleship, two torpedo boats and
two submarine chasers. Off the coast near Halifax we added three Canadian
transports and an admiralty ship, and now sailed in a zigzag direction for
England. Being the only medical man on board, our hospital train was
placed in the infirmary and I was made diet cook for the sick men, the
diseases being mumps, measles, tuberculosis and sea-sickness.
For three days off the New England coast we had a severe storm and many
hearts beat fast for it looked like our ship could not possibly climb those
waves. Our berths were hammocks swung to the ceiling of the boat and they
rocked like an oriole's nest in the wind. But this storm was succeeded by
sunshine and calmer sea and we sighted ten British destroyers which had
come out to escort us through the danger zone.
On Sept. 7th a signal told us that a submarine had been sighted and I ran on
deck just in time to see a torpedo hit the closest boat of our convoy. It struck
just above the water line and near the center of the boat and seemed to lift
that side of the boat four feet out of the water. Twenty-five Chinamen were
killed in the coal bin. Immediately the airplanes were present and would
touch the water where they had seen the submarine and the destroyers
followed directly and dropped depth bombs where the airplane had touched
the water. It was reported that they got the sub but I think it escaped without
much harm. We were told the torpedoed boat went to Queenstown and sank
in the harbor. No Americans were lost.
Sept. 9th we arrived in London and went by rail to Southampton, and on the
night of the 10th crossed to Harve on the 'Maid of Orleans' loaded with
soldiers packed like sardines, the passage as usual being very, very rough.
After a day here we boarded a train of freight cars with a capacity of forty
men or eight horses but were so crowded that we were compelled to tuck our
feet under us that all might lie down.
Arrived at Beaune [France] we were given very comfortable quarters. This
was a very beautiful valley and on a clear day we could see the mountains of
Switzerland. The cultivation of the grape to make wine is the chief industry
here. The people are very fond of wine, always taking a bottle with their
cold lunch, though they drink it very slowly. The railroads of the country are
fifty years behind America, but the highways and cemeteries are far superior
to ours. The cemeteries are beautifully decorated with small beads made into
flowers. Some of these flowers cost as much as fifty or sixty dollars, and
there will be two or three pieces on each tomb. The American soldiers'
graves are marked with a plain white cross, unless he was of the Jewish
religion, in which case it is a plain white slab.
The farming in this section is very crude. I did not see any good machinery.
If they use two horses to one plow they are hitched tandem. They broadcast
the grain and reap the harvest with cradle and sickle as in pioneer days in
America. I never saw a Frenchman using a four-wheel wagon, but always a
large two-wheel cart. I have seen them working four horses to such a cart,
but one horse is always hitched to the collar of the other. In the small town
of Beaune we saw a painting of “Death and the Resurrection” that some rich
American had offered a half Million dollars for. This building had many old
relics and beautifully kept grounds.
After two months stay here we were expecting to be called into active
service when Germany signed the Armistice. Everybody was happy and
nearly all got drunk. Those that did not were not permitted to stay in their
cots till after two o'clock. After the signing of the Armistice time hung heavy
on our hands, and all the camp gossip was about returning home.
Finally, on June 12th, 1919, we were transferred by rail (freight) to Brest
where we remained fifteen [days?]. While here we visited the Old Caesar
Chateau, which was built on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean by four
different nations--Rome, Spain, England and France, and used by all as a
penal institution. The most ingenious cruelty was meted out to criminals
here. Most of the space was on a level with the Atlantic and the live body
was dropped a hundred and forty feet into planted bayonets in the cell below
and left there for the tides to carry it off. In this same place the French hid
their gold during the Franco-German war of 1879.
Generally speaking, there are just two classes in France, the rich and the
poor, or the respectful class and the class that disregards everything that is
well and good. The men are usually indolent but kind hearted. The women
are affectionate toward their men, and all were kind to the American soldier
unless he caused them to be otherwise.
On June 29th we boarded the Pretoria and left France for the good old U.S.
A. We had better sleeping quarters coming home, bunks instead of
hammocks, but close, unhealthy, and though the weather was fine there was
some sea-sickness and spinal meningitis. We amused ourselves with moving
pictures, wrestling matches, swimming pool, and games and arrived at New
York on the 13th of July, was sent to Camp Dix, N.J., and discharged on the
19th, arriving home on the 20th. Just one month later I entered matrimonial
service with [Ida] Spaid."
Memoir written by Luther C. Stine and submitted by his grandson, Martin L.
Heavner, mheavner@comcast.net