The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1918-11-08
GLAD He IS over There:
WALLACE STERLING WRITES
OF BIG BATTLEFRONT :.
Gives One That Grand and
Glorious Feeling; His Inter-
esting Letter

Mr.. and Mrs. Frank H. Sterling
are in receipt of the following in
spring letter from their son, Wal
lace E. Sterling, who is in France:
France, September, 10, 191S.-Dear
Folks: A few moments ago one OF
the fellows,-(dubbed Powder River
because he halls from that flag sta
ton in Montana) remarked that he
thought he would heat some water
and take bath. That statement
brought grin all around, because
taking hot bath is one of the things
you dream about but seldom expert
enee, and then it flashed through my
mind that today must be Sunday for
somehow baths and Sunday seem to
90 hand in hand. Just to make sure
| asked everyone around and every
one" replied that they thought it must
be. All of which goes to show how
we forget even the days of the week.
Surely life must be full of other
things more momentarily important
to make US forget the one day OF the
seven in which we should be thinking
of our God and home and-other
things It's blessing, imagine, to
be able to forget, don't you think?
Not that we forget 'hOme"-and with
it the homefolks-that memory is
always with us-but just the passage
of time.
This is the most beautiful Septem-
Der morning you could hope to wake
up to-bright and clear and all sun
shine, which is doubly welcome after
full week CT downpOur. For while
we all thought it never would stop
raining-and it was far from being a
drizzle.--it was flood. | wore hip
boots for so many days that my heels
began to chaff and then | had to turn
to shoes and wade. But the rain
really was a God send, for it was in
the pouring rain that our front line
caught the enemy mapping, and-oh
boy-what drive they made, cap
turing thousands of prisoners and
guns and some much wanted terri
tory! Twas wonderful and it was
all accomplished in short while
with very little resistance. They sure
slipped the head butcher a bitter pill
Our dOughboys pushed ahead so fast
and so far that even the cavalry
couldn't keep in touch with them.
| wish you could have seen the line
of prisoners that streamed back. The
sight put everyone in good spirits, al
though some of us who were unfor-
tunate enough not to be right in the
action, couldn't help but feel little
touch of pity for some of the Fritzies
who were hobbling along over the
rocky roads in their stocking feet and
without hats. But the fellows who
had been in the push, wasted no SYM
pathy on them what So ever and /
rather guess if we could see some Of
the things they have we wouldn't
have either.
The prisoners we see range from
about eighteen to forty years-and
they look dirty and tired and not at
all like a bunch of American boys
would look,-nor have they the snap
of the French. | imagine they are
glad to be out of it and figure that it
is better to be an American prisoner
of war than lump of clay in no
mans land. / wish | could send you
one of the helmets, which arc Large.
than ours, coming way down ov1r the
ears and neck and ;;tG camoufiaged
with green and brown paint, but
haven't much chance o. doing so.
Airplanes and balloons are as
thick as flies around sugar barrel.
counted twenty-thr planes and
seven balloons in the air at one time,
and some of the flights among the
clouds that we see are as thrilling as
a ten ring circus. They leave you
with the same sensation that you re-
ceive when you drop twelve floors in
an express elevator.
One day last week l visited a city
right behind the lines, city-or
rather, l should say, the ruins of a
city which is famous for it's resis
lance. In fact, to the French, it's
very name is symbol of confidence,
for though it is little more than a
mass of stone, twisted steel and huge
battered, moss covered walls, it has
never been occupied by the Hun. The
main entrance is through a wide
arched gate that makes you think of
the walled cities of the Bible stories
with guards on either side who de-
mand to see your passes. We didn't
have any so slipped them some cigar
etts and produced some old passes left
over from ST. Nazair and as they had
official stamps on them we got by
easily l doubt if the guards could
read English. The citadel, or fort
ress, which is about the only thing
left in the city, appears to be no more
or less than a large hill held up by
thick, high old stone walls, and is en-
tered by small tunnel with mar
row. gage railroad track for push
cars running along the middle of it
There are long, shallow sounding
passage ways and enormous, high
ceilinged halls, fully sixty feet under
ground and of course, lighted by
strings of electric lights. Here is
where the French soldiers lived
during the bombardment, in fact
they still are living there for the city
is deserted. There is French can
teen in one long hall where you can
buy chocolate. French tobacco
organe- peel jam and of couse-wine
/ bought four bars of chocolate foI
five franc, which is about one dollar
/ didn't invest in any wine, not be-
cause l wouldn't but because l could
MT The chocolate broke me fiat
For fully three hours we pOkeC