Legacy of a Patriot: The First Seven Generations

The cold wind blew unmercifully, as Harmon snugged his coat collar closer to his neck, stomped his feet, beat his hands on his thighs and walked to and fro beside the Holt tractor trying to keep warm in the late Fall of 1918. The temperature had steadily fallen since eleven o'clock the previous evening. It was now four-thirty AM. The ground had frozen to steel hardness making his numb feet hurt all the more. He could hear the faint rumbling thunder of the German artillery exploring the front lines and see the lightning-like flashes on the horizon towards no-man's land as well as the closer American artillery's reply. Since the firing range was up in the high hills about 185 miles south of Paris, the view on the horizon was spectacular. Their range was at Montmorillon, France. The 64th Regiment was one of the three regiments of the 34th Coast Artillery Brigade, the other regiments being the 70th and the 71s.t. Being up high, and in early November it was rather chilly. Add the clear, moonless night and a steady wind of about fifteen miles per hour it seemed much colder than it really was. "Oh Man! Oh! Man! It sure is cold, cold enough to freeze tha' horns on a brass billygoat!" Harmon said to himself. He and his brother, Ralph, were wagoners in Battery B, 64th Coast Artillery Regiment. The 64th was in the last stages of their training and nearly ready to be deployed to the western front. They had been training at Montmorillon forever, it seemed. Harmon muttered just loud enough so that his helper, eighteen-year-old Private William (Willy) Charles Stone could not hear, "I'll be frozen before our tour is over." Harmon and Willy have been on duty for about one and one-half hours. And he and Willy have one last run to make and then have about 15 minutes left on this tour. He and Willy are about talked out and have little or nothing to say to each other. Now each is deep in thought in the silence of the night. Harmon's thoughts are drawn to what many a soldier draws near to when to they have some time just to try and forget their misery when in a damp and cold situation warm--thoughts of home! Harmon mulls over in his mind how it was when he and Ralph left home. "Weedie is 10 years old now an she has dark black hair, which she wore in braids. O! How she cried when we left home to enlist. I can just see her standing there, holding her dolly and hugging it tightly and sobbing an' tugging at my hand. I sure hope she=s got over by it now. When we left out the gate, she ran back, up the steps, opened the door, turned around looking so miserable, shouting through her sobs 'I don't want you to go, Harmon, I really, really, don't!' She ran inside and slammed the door. She is such a sweet child. Someone will get a sweet wife when she grows up and marries. Speaking of marrying, when we get back, I am going to hunt for me a beautiful, sweet, loving 'n gentle 'n kind girl for a wife, one I can live with forever!" Little did Harmon know that he would find two such girls, and what joy and grief he would experience in the years, yet-to-come. Harmon's thoughts now drifted to his three older sisters. He mused, well, my older sisters were not there to see Ralph and me off to the war. Let’s see now, Willie Ola left home and married Jim Martin when I was about ten. I can’t remember much about her except she looked a lot like Mama, rather short and stout. She wore her hair like Mama did, put up in a bun. I recall that. An’ that's about all. Now, I remember Constance getting married to a fella with a strange last name B Olive. Let’s see, believe she married him when I was fifteen n' that would have been in the Summer of 13, n' that would have been in July or August. I thought the preacher would never finish and have them kiss. That stiff, high, starched collar itched so much, an’ I tugged and pulled at it till I thought I’d go nuts. An’ she went with him to Panama City, Florida. They had their first baby there, an’ named her 'Zora.' Man! Who could forget a name like that one? I wonder where it came from. Then there was Marge. Now, she was the pretty one of the bunch and she really liked to have fun with us boys and then she got all grown-uppity, changed her pants for a skirt, and about two years ago, married this really nice fella, Lawson Phillips. But, nobody called him Lawson. Everyone called him 'Eggy' that's an odd nick-name. Wonder why he is called that? Climbing up onto the open seat of the Holt tractor, Harmon thought about his brother, Ralph Was he still alive? Calling to his helper, Private William (Willy) Charles Stone, to turn the crank while he was advancing the spark and pulling out the choke, he wondered where they had taken his older brother. (Ralph had become one of the victims of the world-wide endemic of influenza.) He thought, this is the last run for our tour. Then to his helper, "Let’s move to the next one, Willy. This one’s gonna stay runnin’ I think." Harmon stepped across to the top of the track of the next tractor and climbed to the seat, while Willy moved over to the crank on the second tractor. They continued this way until they had finished and then Harmon went back to the first tractor and cut the engine and made the trip back over the tracks, cutting each one in turn.