"On Dec. 13th, a Friday at that, we crossed the Rhine. Such a day it was ! Pouring rain all day. Everybody was drenched. While we were crossing on the bridge a photographer stood with his camera taking pictures. He kept yelling at us to smile. Yes ! We felt like smiling, wet and hungry. Some of the boys told him to go to Hell. That evening we turned into a field at 8.00 P.M. and pitched camp for the night and were notified that another day's hike would finish the job. We were all glad as everyone was tired and wanted to settle somewhere.

"On Dec. 14th we were off at seven and arrived at Fahr—our town, or at least it was to be ours for four or five months. In the course of a couple of days most everybody was located in the houses. All the inhabitants had to take in two, three or four soldiers. The Government paid twenty-five pfennige a night for each man. Four of us stayed at No. 8, Wilhelm Strasse. An old lady by the name of Timmerman owned the house, but she had vanished when she learned that Americans were to occupy the town. The lady next door had stayed, and after a few days we got acquainted with her and her family.

"We inquired where the lady that owned the house had gone and heard that she had gone to a nephew's house sixty miles away. However, we got after the lady next door to try and persuade the owner of our house to return as we were the sole occupants of her house. She finally arrived after several days and was so afraid she would not even see us. Her impression of us was taken from the Indians, as she told me afterwards. She expected to see us all painted up with feathers in our hair. We had to go next door to bring her in and she surely was scared; she just stood and looked at us. Naturally we couldn't speak German, neither could she speak English, so we could not hold any conversation. One of the boys went for Nick Miller who could speak German, so we got acquainted through Nick. We got Nick to assure her that we were not Indians and that she was the boss of the house; also that we expected her to take care of our room, and that we would pay her so much a week for her trouble. This was satisfactory to her. Well, it didn't take long for her to get to know our names, and many a night's fun we had. All of us would store up from the commissary canned fruit and cakes, and the old lady would spread the table every evening and all of us would enjoy a bite. I managed to pick up the German language fairly well and the old lady would talk to me for hours about different things. Of course, I couldn't understand everything she said, but I managed to get some of it. She washed all of our clothes, but wouldn't take any money for doing it, and the only way we could pay her was to load up her pantry at night with stuff from the commissary.

"Our stay here was the same unending routine—drilling, exercising the horses, a pass to Coblentz once in a while. Some of the boys took a trip back to France. Personally, I didn't care about a furlough under the conditions, as the Military Police were always on the job. The least little violation of army rules would place a fellow under arrest and subject him to two or three months in the mill without pay. Here at Fahr we had our own guards. At poker or craps we either made a few hundred marks or lost, it depended on Lady Luck. If we won, we would have a blow-out; if we lost, why, we could have a party on the other fellow.

"In March, 1919, I was given the job looking after the prisoners—our own bunch who had transgressed the laws and who were committed to the mill for thirty, sixty or ninety days. It was up to me to find work for them. I could always find work—fixing up the base ball grounds, fixing up a place for horses to jump, cleaning the streets, etc.

"We finally received orders to move from Fahr as the 32d Division was going home and we were to take up their territory. We didn't want to move as we were well established, though Fahr was a small town. We had fairly good accommodations right on the Rhine River. Even the natives didn't like the boys to move. However, when the big fellows issue orders, we have to move.

[Fahr Irlich, Germany is just a few hundred feet from the train wreck.]