tes Infantrymen and
Marines, made its first camp in France with the smallest amount of
confusion, considering the fact that almost three-quarters of them
hadn't been in uniform a month. It was but several hours after arriving
at the camp that the smoke was rising from the busy camp stoves and the
aroma of American coffee, baked beans and broiled steaks was in the air.
On the afternoon of that first day some of the men were given permission
to visit the town. They began to take their first lessons in French as
they went from cafe to cafe in futile efforts to connect up with such
unknown commodities as cherry pie or ham and egg sandwiches. Upon
meeting one another in the streets, our men would invariably ask: "Have
you come across any of these FROGS that talk American?"
There was nothing disrespectful about the terms Frogs or Froggies as
applied to their French comrades in arms. American officers hastened to
explain to French officers that the one piece of information concerning
France most popularly known in America was that it was the place where
people first learned to eat frog legs and snails.
The Frenchmen, on the other hand, were somewhat inclined to believe that
these first Americans didn't live up to the European expectations of
Americans. Those European expectations had been founded almost entirely
upon the translations of dime novels and moving picture thrillers of the
Wild West and comedy variety.
Although our men wore the high, broad-brimmed felt hats, they didn't
seem sufficiently cowboyish. Although the French people waited
expectantly, none of these Americans dashed through the main street of
the village on bucking bronchos, holding their reins in their teeth and
at the same time firing revolvers from either hand. Moreover, none of
our men seemed to conclude their dinners in the expected American
fashion of slapping one another in the face with custard pies.
There was to be seen on the streets of St. Nazaire that day some
representative black Americans, who had also landed in that historical
first contingent. There was a strange thing about these negroes.
It will be remembered that in the early stages of our participation in
the war it had been found that there was hardly sufficient khaki cloth
to provide uniforms for all of our soldiers. That had been the case with
these American negro soldiers.
But somewhere down in Washington, somehow or other, some one resurrected
an old, large, heavy iron
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