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Doings Of Battery B

328th Field Artillery American Expeditionary Forces

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 SERGT. LEON O. FRYE Serial No. 2,026,565 St. Louis, Mich. Sergt. Frye was one of the first men of the Battery, having been inducted September 22, 1917. After going to France he attended the School of Liaison and was promoted to Corporal at Camp Coetquidan. Just prior to leaving for the front he was made Gunnery Corporal on No. 2 gun. It was he who pulled the lanyard that sent our first shell into enemy lines. At Pont-a-Mousson he was promoted to Sergeant. He was a member of the Battery B quartette and while it was in one of its heights of revelry, Frye sprained his foot coming down some steps. Sergt. Allen, in his desire to get help for Frye, reported to the Battery commander that Sergt. Frye had hurt his foot and wouldn’t they send the veterinary. In his little excitement, his experience as Sergeant among the horses got professions mixed up. This made it difficult for Sergt. Frye to walk for a few weeks, and this was a hardship, as it made it rather hard for him to keep from starting some fun for everyone in general. At Les Forges, right after Retreat, the boys made up a party of which Sergt. Frye was a member, and all visited the town of Vibraye. In one of the cafes two little French girls sang the popular French song for us, “Quand Madelon.” He was very accurate as to detail, and made a model artilleryman. The boys will remember many pleasant card parties. He visited Rennes and was on leave to Aix Les Bain. QUAND MADELON Quand Madelon vient nous t’rvir a boire, Sous le tonnelle on frole son jupon, Et chaeun lui raconte une histoire, Une histoire en sa façon. La Madelon pour nous n’est pas sévère, Quand on lui prend la taille ou le menton, Elle rit, c’est tous l’mal quelle sait faire. Madelon, Madelon, Madelon. When Madelon comes to serve us drink, Under the arbor, we pull at her skirt, Each one telling her a story, A story in its way. Madelon is not strict with us, When we put our arms ‘round her waist or tickle her chin, She laughs, that’s all the harm she knows. Madelon, Madelon, Madelon.

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