Somewhere in France | August 24, 1918

from THE MESSENGER
October 20, 1918

Dear Mother:

Just a few lines to let you know I am in good health, and that everything is going fine. We have had several air raids lately which were very interesting. I will try to describe one to you.

I was sitting on a bench in front of our head-quarters. It was about 8:30 in the evening, and the moon was as bright as day. Suddenly we heard the drone of a German aeroplane. The enemy plane is distinguished very easily from an ally plane because of its peculiar shape and sound. Naturally we have seen them both together and, hence can differentiate between very readily. The fun started. My roommate and I beat it for a dugout, but before we arrived there the anti-aircraft guns opened upon him, and then it seemed like a thousand machine guns came in the second count and then—everything let loose. By that time, we were in the dug-out, and outside shrapnel was falling like rain. Above the noise of the guns we could hear the hum of the enemy aeroplanes, and just about the time we thought everything was over, there was a loud crash, and it seemed as though the whole world trembled. This was followed by eleven more, each one seemed to get closer and the windows were breaking everywhere. There is a hospital about one hundred feet from us with American soldiers in it. On the roof of each building is big red cross which covers the whole roof, but that didn’t make any difference to the enemy. They dropped one right in the yard, then I guess they were satisfied, and returned home where they no doubt received an iron cross and piece of limberger cheese.

You know that there are thousands of men in the rear that never get a chance to go in the trenches, but have to work in the rear keeping up roads and taking care of the supplies. Well every day we hear of some of these men missing, and they are gone for about three weeks. When we do hear from them they are in the first line trenches giving the Germans all that’s coming to them. That’s the spirit of the American soldier. He always wants to be where there’s something doing.

I must close now, hoping this letter finds everybody in good health. Tell Edith and Glad I will write them a letter this week, and I hope to be home for Easter.

Love,

Bud

Chester H. Sadler M.E. Bdqts, Dept

112th Engineer, Aero Squadron

Expeditionary Forces