At the Front: The Story of Edward Cahill
“Dear Sister:
Since I was wounded on the 13th of Nov., I have not been in much of a shape to write you about it. I have always wanted to tell you the whole story...As you know, I was one of the first American soldiers wounded in France, during the World War. Our reg't. relieved a French reg't, on one of the hottest of the front line trenches.”
“There is not in all the world mud lik that in France - It weighs more than concrete, and sticks like a porous plaster. If it dries on your legs & arms, it has to be broken up with a hammer before the clothing will come off. If well dried, it is shell proof and turns a bayonet like a duck's back turns water. Outside of armor plate and the hide of a cheap politician, I have never seen anything quite so invulnerabl as the French mud.”
“One house, by which we passed, broke into small lumps, and a cloud of white powder rose clear to the clouds. It was a direct hit, and where the two story house had stood, there was nothing left but a large hole with a few broken stones, and two uprooted trees on the edge of it. As we got closer the trees were nearly all broken off or had the limbs torn away by shell fire.”
“At first, I did not know that I was hurt, I tho't the shell had blown some mud or dirt over me & stunned me a little I stooped down to help up one of our men - my left arm would not work some how tho' I felt no pain - the man was dead, blown completelyy in two at the waist line. It was then I saw the blood running down my arm, but I sure thought it was a scratch...The last I remember is falling into the mud & water at the bottom of a caved dugout.”
The rest of the story:
Learn more about Edward D. Shoor
Exhibit page created by Rachel Dark