William Elmer Bachman

Summary

William Elmer Bachman The Delta of the Triple Elevens

It was on a tick of straw, thrown on the floor of the old dilapidated, vacated house, that one hundred of the battery spent their nights of sleep in Montmorillon while the other half occupied similar beds on the upper-lofts of the barn.
There were no formations the morning after arrival. The battery men spent most of the time about town. It was strange to observe the peasantry hobbling along in their wooden shoes, the flopping of the loose footwear at the heels beating a rhythmic clap, clap on the cobblestone pave.
Each day brought new scenes of peasant life.
Source: Gutenberg

William Elmer Bachman The Delta of the Triple Elevens

What might have been the thoughts of the individual at the breaking of home-ties and during the long, tiresome railroad journey to Camp Meade, were buried deep in the heart, to be cherished as a future memory only. Personal griefs were hidden as those seven hundred young men in civilian clothes stepped from the train at Disney, grasped their suit case, box, or bundle, firmly and set out on the mile and a quarter hike through the camp--past divisional headquarters; perspiring freely under the heat of the setting sun.
Source: Gutenberg

William Elmer Bachman The Delta of the Triple Elevens

Standing at the deck rail one could not pierce the fog, although it was known that within a short radius all the other ships of the convoy were groping their way through the darkness; each creeping as a black monster through the gloomy night, depending upon the fog-horn to keep aloof from their sister convoy ships; a sense of loneliness enshrouded the scene. It was a wild night for the timid with sub-scares, especially when the information leaked out that the sub-chasers which were scheduled to meet the convoy and escort it through the danger zone, were overdue and still missing.
Source: Gutenberg

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