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Dr. Robert C. Gill
Courtesy of Michael Belis and Find A Grave |
Robert C. Gill, M.D. of Norwalk, Ohio wrote the following letter at the close of World War I to Mildred Monnet Laning, wife of Sheldon Laning. The Lanings were close friends who also lived in Norwalk, Ohio. Gill was a descendant of Huron County, Ohio pioneers. He graduated from Norwalk, Ohio high school and Denison University. He received his medical degree from Western Reserve in 1914 and then served an internship at St. Luke's Hospital in Cleveland, Ohio.
Dr. Gill served in World War I as a medical officer of the 37th Division where he attained the rank of major. He trained in Montgomery, Alabama and saw action on several European fronts, including the Argonne Forest and in Belgium. He was awarded the silver star. Dr. Gill married Olga Schroeder of Youngstown, Ohio in 1922. Following his service, he did graduate work at the New York Optalmic Hospital and then returned to Norwalk, Ohio where he practiced medicine until his death in 1955.
This letter is part of the Sheldon Laning Local History Miscellaneous Manuscript Collection.
Capt. R. C. Gill
Belgium
140th Amb. Co.
112 [?] Train
Amer E Force
November 11, 19
Dear Mildred:
Your first letter was read while I was walking down a lane
in Belgium just a few hours before we went – no by God I read it the second day
of the drive while we were moving up beyond a ridge that the enemy had occupied
the night before. And they gave us hell that night. Your letter was in my hand
while we passed machine gun pits, artillery and infantry units lying in support
while we moved up under shell fire. I wish Tud [Sheldon Laning] could have seen
what your letter saw. Since then I have been in another drive that was just
getting underway when the armistice came.
We had our dressing station about ½ mile from the enemy’s
line when peace was declared. In the drive before we moved up to 250 yds of the
enemy’s first line at night and at dawn the boys went over under a terrific
barrage. We got it coming & going but are all here safe now. Believe me
folks, it was hot and I tell you I’ve seen all of War that I want. I’ve seen
refugee women running towards our lines bar[e]footed, with their hair down, and
bleeding from wounds, They really were surrounded by children and sometimes
carrying wounded babies. I saw an old man pushing a wheelbarrow with two
wounded babies in it. They came streaming in with our wounded and they all had
a smile on their faces. Wounded Boche and Boche prisoners. And all the time the
houses in the town to our left and the building to our left were crashing under
the Boche shells. Trees falling in the distance and the big shells plunging
into the canal behind us searching for our pontoons. Then between us and then. road large geysers of
earth would leap into the air. They were trying to get the high road then. Machine guns around us were rattling and one [?] banging in our ears. Once in a
while something would swizz thru the air. Besides we had a light attack of
sneezing gas. Believe me, one took interest in things. We laid behind
straw-stacks til we got word to go forward and then moved cause the
Boche were getting our range.
Some of those things I believe I’ll never forget and some I
never want to remember again. I can’t tell you where we are yet because the
censor-ship is still on. The Division has made a name for itself. You going to
invite me and some nice girl to your house party? I’ll come if you keep your
old man from saying embarrassing things and behave yourselves. You try any
sfommy [?] in my presence as you two usually do or I'll go you one better or go home
or get drunk or something. When I get home I want to get drunk in Cleveland.
Can you spare Tud one night to take care of me? Lord know somebody ought to for
I sure am going to celebrate, oh Boy. You might keep that cider til I get home
– it will be tart alright.
Just now we are still doing fours right and fours left. It
seems strange to see lights in all the houses and to go out in the moonlight
and not hear a plane over head. Write soon ”tootsweet” and tell Tud I’m using
“commissary” tobacco. Yours Bob.
Almost forgot to tell you. I got my captaincy after the
first drive and on the third front was given command of the company. It’s a
hell of a job taking care of 122 men keeping em fed clothed and in good
spirits. They can send me home now and cut out the honors.
Yours,
Bob
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