Chapter XI: Homeless Children

At Saint Nicholas du Port we rested, waiting for our division to go to the trenches. Almost every night we were visited by Boche aviators who would come over and drop a few bombs to add to our comfort. It was one of the nicest little spots one could find, for we were quartered in an old cow barn from which we had to shovel about two wagon loads of manure before we could put up beds, and when we did not have the Boche flying over us we were busy with the “cooties” round about us.

If ever conditions existed that were cootie producing, we certainly found them here. There was an old tile roof that was perfectly watertight, except when it rained, and evidently intended for astronomical observation. At other times our anti-aircraft batteries, located across the road, when they shot at the Boches caused shell fragments to drop on our none-too-solid roof, and thereby add to the access of small rivulets, to say nothing of the danger of our losing about a yard and a half of hide. But we were visited so many times by the Boches that we ceased to pay any attention to them. With practice one can get used to anything.

One night a little boy came up out of the darkness and asked if he could sleep in the driveway. He said he was very tired and had no place to go. He had been ordered back, for when a regiment goes into the fighting zone no one that is not attached to it is permitted to go along. There are hundreds of these urchins in France that follow the armies and live with them when they are not in the trenches.

This is just what had happened to Lombard, for that was his name. We questioned him very closely and he finally convinced us of his truthfulness, and so we made him comfortable for the night on a stretcher in one of the cars. In a short time he was in slumberland. About an hour later the Boche aviators came over and things were soon humming. The batteries were going full blast when I thought of that poor child out in the car without protection, and unable to get out.

I put on my steel helmet and went out to release our guest. I brought him into the barn and felt much better to know that he was at least sharing the protection we were afforded. The air raid soon ended and all was still. In the morning our guest was given his breakfast and a few francs, the net result of an impromptu collection, but he seemed to like American hospitality and started in to cut wood and carry water for our cook. Someone suggested that we keep him with us to do errands and help generally, but before this was to be considered it was necessary to learn more about the youngster, as we all had valuables that we did not wish to lose, and coming to us as he did no one cared to take chances.

We decided to question the lad and learned that for over two years he had been wandering about from one regiment to another. His home was at a place called Pont a Meusson, and when the place had been attacked by the Boches, his father had been killed and his mother carried off. He had two older brothers in the French Army, but did not know where they were. Thus, after the cross-examining, we decided to let him stay. We felt sure that as long as he was to help the cook and handle food, we might just as well have him clean.

On account of the particular interest I had shown in him, I was allotted the job of seeing that he was cleaned up. After taking up another collection I bought him underwear, a clean shirt, and socks. There were miscellaneous donations like handkerchiefs, ties, towels and soap, so our guest was now ready for the bath. We had some water heated, into which we put a disinfectant to help matters along, for I don’t think he had had a bath since he left home. It is hardly necessary to say that the bath was, at least, a partial success.

He seemed more than grateful for what we had done for him and all went well until we were ordered to the front with our division. Then it looked dark for Lombard, for we must go into the fighting zone and he would not be permitted to follow. But he seemed so distressed and forlorn that we tucked him away in a camion and took him with us. We bought him a little uniform, and, when we left our division, the American boys who came to take our places gladly took him in charge. We were sorry to leave this little fellow, for he had become a part of our daily life.

It is unfortunate that all the little children that follow the armies can not be taken care of in some such way. There are thousands of them straggling in the wake of the troops over there and they have no one to consider their comfort or safety. What will become of them, beaten from pillar to post day after day, with no one to put out a helping hand. This is a problem for the women to solve, since the men are occupied with other things and have no time to adjust the matter.