January 4, 1919

Der Tag has come and gone; while it was here, it proved all that is expected. The gang (for such it is) gave a dance, with practically no American girls and only our own people and lots of French women. I didn’t go. Judging by the aching heads next day, everyone was beautifully drunk, which seems to be the desideratum in such affairs. A good time was had by all, and I was in bed. I must be getting old.

Next day I got up at 11 o’clock – just in time for dinner, which was unusually good. Afterwards it took me about three hours to come to. Then I went to Streiff’s took the little boss out and had seven drinks. Then met “Pep” (it should really be “Top”) and two others. We went up to the little half French, half Italian café about a half-mile from here – the same place we had been to on Christmas Day – and had a great deal of supper, drink, music and occasionally one of us got a dance off. The language and atmosphere were mostly Italian – one might say very Italian. The talent consisted of local demoiselles who have a foreign idea about dancing, but it wasn’t so bad. I got one ha-ha when some old frog got up and sang what was intended to be an international anthem, a stirring super-patriotic affair about universal peace and the league of nations. We were the guests of the b-in-l of Mme. Bellamy – the nameless person of a recent letter; he has a name, however; it is Daniel. I don’t know whether that is his first or family name.

Thursday and Friday were uneventful enough, although I know you’ll say “no wonder.” But it wasn’t so wild New Year’s as it sounds on paper. And then I can fall back on that old one, “They do these things better in France.” You can’t really catch the spirit of a French celebration from a piece of paper like this.

Today’s greatest event seems to have been getting something for nothing. The K. of C. have sent us a lot of soap and towels and tobacco and cigarettes and cigars, which they did not need and thought we might. So everybody got a little which was good. Aside from that it’s just another raw, wet day – 1919 and all still here, with no new rumors about going home. Tonight there is a lesson. Tomorrow I’m to go to Streiffs’ for dinner. That’s all.

Next post January 6.